38. Chase
THIRTY-EIGHT
CHASE
Between Sunday night’s almost-kiss and Wednesday morning, I’ve had a lot of time to think. About Goldi. About me. Our past. Our future. About how perfect she is and how I’d spend the rest of my life loving the hell out of her if only she’d let me.
I used to think I didn’t deserve her. That I couldn’t be who she needed me to be. Hell, I still don’t think I was wrong; that boy was in no shape to handle Goldi. But I’m a man now. I’ve weathered the storms and forged through the rubble of living a life without her. I don’t want to know that type of emptiness anymore.
She may be with Jax, but she was mine first.
I’m not surprised when she doesn’t show up for work, even though I know she isn’t sick. I figured she’d be scared off by what almost happened between us. What keeps almost happening between us. She better buckle up, because if she thought I was hard to handle before I decided to fight for her, she has no clue how difficult I’ll be now.
She lets me touch her in the office. Lets me call her Goldi. Baby. The sudden change in her demeanor makes me dizzy, but it’s not unwelcome. I’m fucking giddy over it.
I show up to her dad’s house eager for our “talk.” When I see Eli and his girl sitting at the kitchen table, laughing with Mr. Carson and sharing beers over their memories, my stomach sinks with worry. I don’t think Goldi knows what she’s about to walk into, but fuck, I’m glad I’m here, so she doesn’t have to face it alone.
All through dinner, I keep my eye on her, assessing her face, watching her body language. I know the bough is about to break before it happens. I should have guessed it would be her father that adds the pressure to make it snap.
I won’t allow his disease to be an excuse for treating Goldi like a punching bag. It’s beyond obvious he hasn’t healed from his wife’s death and she’s taken the brunt of the fallout. She lost her mom, her dad, her brother, and me all in one go. My heart weeps for what she’s had to endure.
I’m thankful when she decides to get us out of the situation, instead of feeding into the toxic environment of her family dynamic, and even though she asked for a drive, I know where she really wants to go—what she really needs.
Fuck her family for making her deal with shit like this. For the thousandth time, I wonder why Jax and Becca aren’t around to help her carry the weight, but I’m pretty confident she hasn’t told them. Shame is a hell of an emotion. I felt it every day with my mom.
We get to the lake and I pull into our usual spot. When I look over at Goldi, her face is drawn and she’s lost in her thoughts. I reach out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
Come back to me, baby.
She turns, smiling. “Thanks for bringin’ me here. How’d you know this is exactly what I needed?”
“How many times do I have to tell you I know you before you start to believe me?”
She takes a deep breath, hopping out of the truck and running around the back. She jumps in the bed and starts laying out the blanket.
My heart skips as I watch her. She’s so comfortable in my truck, by my side, with my things. With me. I’m so busy staring, I don’t make a move to leave my seat. She pushes her hair out of her face and glances at me, her hands on her hips.
She speaks loud, making sure I hear every word through the back window. “Well, Chase Adams…you just gonna sit there like a dud, or you plannin’ on comin’ back here to woo me?”
My stomach somersaults as I open my door and walk around, leaning my arms over the side of the truck bed. I arch a brow. “Who said anything about wooing?”
She plops down, crossing her legs, her eyes twinkling. “I did. Just now. Your ears broke?”
“Maybe I don’t woo. You know it’s never been my strong suit.”
She rises on her knees, scooting closer to the side of the truck. “Lucky you have me here to practice on then, huh.”
My heart skips. “Is that what this is? Practice?”
“No,” she whispers, pushing her body against the truck’s metal frame. “This is the main event.”
My eyes follow her fingers as they slide up my forearms and rest on my shoulders. Every nerve lights up at her touch. “Are you saying what I think you are?”
Her cheeks flush and suddenly pink is my favorite color. She leans her forehead against mine and her breath fans my face. “I’m tired of bein’ angry with you.”
My lungs squeeze tight. “You are?”
She nods.
“What would you rather be, instead?”
“Yours.”
I’m on her in the next breath, stealing the remnants of her words. Drowning in her forgiveness. Her mouth opens immediately, warm honey and vanilla coating my senses and slinking through my veins, heating me up from the inside.
Goddamn.
My entire being groans from the taste of her. Finally.
I reach around the back of her head to pull her in closer, my fingers knotting in her hair. I tug on the strands, and she gives me the sweetest moan. Fuck this truck for being in my way.
She rises up on her knees, leaning over the edge until her breasts push into my chest, her mouth pressing harder against mine. Her tongue delves deeper, then retreats only to be replaced by her teeth nipping my bottom lip.
Arousal flares, blood rushing to my groin.
The sound of laughter down the bank interrupts the moment and has me slowing our kiss, trying to regain some sense. Her hands clutch the fabric of my shirt, pulling me back, like she’s desperate for more. I’ve dreamed of this moment, so I give in, losing myself in the euphoria of her touch.
Finally, I break away, my chest heaving.
Goldi grins at me, her eyes glazed, her cherry lips swollen.
My soul fucking sings.
I peck her lips again because I can’t help myself, trailing a line of kisses along her face until I reach her ear. “Promise you’re mine?”
She smiles against my cheek. “Cross my heart and hope to die.”
Journal Entry #347
She’s mine. I’ll never lose her again.