Chase: A Devil & his Birdie: Havenwood University Book Two

Chapter 33

CHASE WILTON IS a dangerous man and no one on God’s green earth can tell me differently. He’s had me forgetting myself more than once this morning. I’ve never been mindless like I was just now. It’s the first time I let my caution fly to the wind and willingly gave up control. He made me feel safe enough to be free. I trusted him to take care of me, and boy did he ever.

The lust that rolled through me was thick enough to cloud my judgment. It blocked out my thoughts and forced me to feel without all my insecurities and worries weighing down the moment between us.

I wasn’t thinking about what he would see, how he would react, or what I would say. In that moment, I wasn’t worried about the self-inflicted cut on my thigh and how I carved it after his painful rejection. I didn’t think about how I had sliced my fingers so the humiliation I was feeling could bleed outta me. These cuts were his… but so was the rest of me.

And I was a mess.I came with more baggage than an airport cargo hanger. My emotion filled suitcases were threadbare and had broken zippers. They were barely able to hold in all of the dark pieces of me that I carried around everywhere I went.

I started cutting my thighs when I was at UGA. I hadn’t considered what would happen if I was ever with someone and had to explain my messes. It’s why last night I felt like I had no other choice than to hold myself back and go upstairs alone.

My self-harm and anxiety would have been too hard to keep under wraps if I were naked with this man. I was swarmed with shame like bees on honey thinking about him seeing my ugly parts. Questions buzzed in my head and each one felt like one of those bees had stung me. What would he say when he saw it? What would I say? What would he think of me and all my scars? Would he stay or leave?

But this morning something had shifted. It was profound. It was like nothing else mattered but being with him; not where we were or who heard us. Not even the possibility of the door not locking after we tumbled inside this room could’ve stopped me. I was ravenous for him.

It should’ve had me teetering on the edge of my sanity and feeling outta control, but it didn’t. For once, I wasn’t trying to keep my balance while my toes curled around a tightrope wire. I felt sturdy enough to let go when I was with him. Like I could launch into the sky and he’d be there to catch me when I came back down.

I trusted him with more than just my heart and soul, I trusted him with my demons, too.

I guess I had to tell him. I knew I couldn’t promise him that the skeletons in my closet wouldn’t come out to play, but he needed to know they were there.

I wouldn’t be able to hide my scars and marks forever, and as much as I wanted to promise Davis and Evie that I’d never cut again, I couldn’t yet. It was gonna take some time. I wasn’t just a work in progress, I was starting an entire renovation.

I knew if I was gonna tell him, I needed to be brave and do it now. We”re still tucked away in the studio, and neither one of us seems to be in any hurry to get up and get on with the rest of the day.

I might as well dump my entire Saturday list. Nothing is more important than being with him right now.

I’m sitting down on the floor with my back up against the wall and his handsome head is nestled in my lap. My fingers comb through his thick brown hair while he stares up at me with soulful eyes. Right now, I need them more than ever. I need them to see past all my faults.

“I’ve got somethin’ I need to tell you.” I’m nervous and reach back to pull out my ponytail holder. I snap the elastic on my wrist, welcoming the baby bite of pain.

“What is it?” He says while getting himself up and into a seated position so he’s facing me head-on.

“I’m–,” My throat feels too tight for words. Like each letter is trying to shoulder its way out. It’s painful and has me stalling. My nerves are nipping at me and I try to remind myself to muster up some courage but my self- resolve is no match for my self-deprecating thoughts. Please don’t leave.

I know Chase has some of his own troubles but that doesn’t mean he wants to take on mine or be with a girl who has enough turmoil to fill a pipeline. Maybe he’ll start to think that I’m too much for him. My Daddy has no problem reminding me every chance he gets that I’ve always been more than a handful even though he and Mama make me feel like I’m never enough.

“I–,” nothing comes out after that and I grip my feather pendant and squeeze it. The silver metal presses into my palm along with my nails and a tiny hiss of pain breaks free again.

He’s as fast as lightning and reaches forward, places his hands on my hips, and pulls me into his lap so I’m straddling him. He wraps his arms around my lower back and leans his forehead up against mine. He anchors me to him and I no longer feel like I’m floating out to sea.

“You’re perfect, Birdie, that’s what you are.” His voice is steady, his words are clear, and it’s evident by his tone that he believes every word to be true. The same way I dig my nails into my skin is how I imagine bursting the bubble he has me in.

“No one’s perfect, Chase,” I gently remind him. He leans back slightly and has a determined look on his face.

“Maybe not, but you’re my perfect.” His eyes darken to a deep dark chocolate and he leans in to kiss me.

“You have no idea…there are broken parts of me,” I whisper just as his lips stop short of mine. There’s a sliver of space between us, and I hope like hell it doesn’t grow. The popping noise of the bubble bursting is so loud in my head that I squeeze my eyes shut.

“And you have no idea how much I’ll love those pieces too,” he says, kissing my forehead. “Give me every shattered and splintered piece of you, Birdie. I don’t give a shit how big the pile is. They’re all mine now. I don’t give a damn what they are or what they mean. None of it could ever change how much I love you.”

“You love me?” I ask with a gasp that sounds a hell of a lot like disbelief. After losing my parent’s love years ago, I’ve got a hard time believing that that anyone could or would want to love me.

“You’re my lifeblood.” He brings my hand up to his chest and places it above his heart. He covers my hand with his, interlocking our fingers. “Do you feel that? My heart started beating for you the day we met and it won’t ever stop.” He says with steadfast confidence and a velvety tone that wraps around every word. It softens me right up.

“Like love at first sight?” I smile saying every word. I can’t help it. I love him silly. I absolutely love this man. I know it in my soul that I do.

“Exactly like that, Sloane,” he says and tucks a piece of hair behind my ear, “exactly like that.” And then he kisses me like a man in love. And I fall for this handsome devil even more.