Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
Piper
The morning sun filters through the pines as Chase and I climb the trail toward Lone Pine Lookout. I'm currently walking like someone who got thoroughly ravaged last night…
Which I did.
God, did I ever.
Through a clearing in the towering pines, I catch a glimpse of the lookout tower perched like a crown jewel against the morning sky, its rustic wooden frame gleaming honey-gold in the dappled sunlight that filters through the canopy above us.
My thighs protest with every step, a delicious reminder of exactly how Chase spent three hours reminding me that Knox and Travis winning the chili cook-off didn't matter.
And that my attempt at redemption later last night—challenging Knox to darts at Timber Tavern and losing spectacularly—also didn't matter.
Those smug bastards.
Knox with his stupid victory dance, Travis buying rounds and announcing to the entire tavern that 'Team Chaos reigns supreme.' Charlie didn't help. He hung a tiny gold trophy behind the bar with their names engraved on it.
I can still see their faces, grinning while I nursed my wounded pride over a whiskey sour.
But then Chase brought me home.
And oh. My boot slips on a stick as a shiver runs through me at the memory.
The way he pinned me against his apartment door before we even made it inside, his mouth hot and absolutely devastating on mine. He stripped me bare in the hallway, leaving a trail of discarded clothing all the way to his bedroom, ours mouths locked the entire time.
It only got better from there.
The intensity in his eyes grew darker as he spread me open on his bed, eyeing me like prey before proceeding to absolutely wreck me with that talented tongue of his.
I lost count of the orgasms somewhere around the second hour.
I breathe a heavy sigh as up ahead, Chase's shoulders flex beneath his flannel. The trail pitches upward, the incline transforming from gentle slope to something that demands real effort.
I notice a flash of blue in the trees closer to me, and when I look across, a tiny mountain bluebird lands on a twisted pine branch, its feathers so vivid they look hand-painted against the weathered bark.
The little cutie tilts its head, studying me with bright curiosity before letting out a sharp, clear trill. I swear to God it knows how many orgasms I had last night, because the trill is the exact pitch Chase wrung out of me when he went down on me against his kitchen counter at three AM.
But despite feeling lighter than air this morning… there's one thing still bugging me.
Chase had been different last night. Not bad different, just different different.
More possessive, more commanding. Taking control of my body with a passion and desire and raw lust that left me trembling. His hands were everywhere, his mouth branding every inch of skin, biting, nipping and sucking like I was the fuel to his very being.
And he delivered. Sweet mercy, did he deliver.
I shift slightly, feeling the pleasant ache between my legs, and catch Chase glancing back at me with a knowing smirk.
"You good back there, Chicago?"
"Don't call me that." I narrow my eyes at him.
"You're walking funny."
"You're the reason I'm walking funny."
His grin widens with smug satisfaction. "Yeah. I am."
Heat floods my cheeks. "Cocky."
He reaches back, offering his hand to help me over a cluster of exposed roots. "Yeah, well… at least I made you forget all about Knox and Travis."
He's not wrong.
The moment his hands touched me last night, the chili cook-off disaster evaporated. But come to think of it… that's when things started feeling… off.
I take his hand, letting him pull me up onto the smoother section of trail, and wonder what got into him. That fierce intensity. The way he'd looked at me like he needed to memorize every sound I made, every expression that crossed my face.
Like he was afraid I'd disappear.
Or maybe…
I swallow hard, my stomach twisting.
Maybe he sensed my distraction. The way I've been clinging a little too tight, laughing a little too loud, kissing him like I'm storing up reserves for a drought.
Maybe he knows I'm hiding something.
The Whitman Gala. Next weekend's absence.
Shit.
I push the thought aside as we continue climbing.
The trail opens up, and I spot a cluster of delicate purple blooms nestled between two rocks.
"Chase, look," I say casually, pointing. He stops beside me, flooding me with a fresh whack of his citrusy cologne. "Lupinus polyphyllus. Native to the Pacific Northwest, blooms late spring through summer. Prefers well-drained soil and full sun."
Chase turns to stare at me. "What did you just say?"
I fight the grin threatening to split my face. "And over there—" I gesture to a patch of yellow flowers near the tree line. "Balsamorhiza sagittata. Did you know the roots of those plants were used by Indigenous peoples for food and medicine? Ingenious."
His mouth falls open, those sexy eyes wide with surprise. "You… how do you…?"
"I've been reading the wildflower guide," I shrug, trying to look nonchalant even though my heart's doing a happy little dance at his dumbfounded expression. "Every night before bed. I wanted to see that look on your face when I showed off."
"What look? I don't have a look."
"Yes, you do." I step closer, rising on my toes to kiss his jaw. "You're impressed. Surprised. A little turned on, maybe?"
"Fine. But I'm more than a little turned on." His hands find my hips, pulling me flush against him. "You've been studying? For me?"
"For us."
The words slip out before I can stop them. They're too honest, too revealing for two people who have declared to remain friends with benefits. No strings.
I'm forced to look away from Chase's eyes as they explode with excitement
"I wanted to know the names of the flowers in the meadow. The ones you pointed out. I wanted to understand this place the way you do."
He continues to look at me with those soft and vulnerable—and suddenly achingly tender—eyes. "Piper…"
"Plus, I figured if I'm going to keep losing at chili cook-offs and darts, I should at least win at something."
I deflect with humor, uncomfortable with the raw emotion building between us. If I was any kind of good person, now would be a really good time to tell him I won't be here next weekend.
But then he laughs, the sound rumbling through his chest and he shifts to continue up the path. "You're winning at a lot more than you think, baby. Come on, we're nearly there."
We continue up the trail, his hand now warm in mine. As we walk, he quizzes me on more flowers, really putting me to the test. I nail most of them, and with each correct answer, his smile grows wider.
Pride radiates off him in waves, and it does something dangerous to my heart.
Tell him about the gala, Piper. Just do it!
The words hover on my tongue, ready to spill out and ruin this perfect morning. I should tell him I won't be here next weekend. That Mother's locked me into the Whitman Foundation Gala and there's no escape.
That our 'casual' agreement is about to hit its first major test.
But then he points out a hawk circling overhead, and the moment passes.
Coward. I'm nothing but a coward.
We reach Lone Pine Lookout as the sun climbs higher, making everything look like it's been dipped in magic.
The view is stunning up here. Rolling peaks stretching endlessly toward the horizon, valleys wrapped in whispers of late-morning mist, and a sky so impossibly blue it actually hurts to look at.
I forget to breathe for a solid five seconds.
Chase spreads a blanket near the weathered pine tree and unpacks the lunch he prepared: salad rolls from Betty's, fresh fruit, a thermos of cold lemonade, and—
"Gummy bears." I laugh as he pulls out the familiar packet. "Of course."
"The last ones from Lily's most recent shipment." He tears it open, offering me first pick. "She sent three pounds this time, but with you around, they haven't lasted long."
I select a red one—cherry, my favorite—and pop it into my mouth. The sweet-tart flavor bursts across my tongue, and I settle onto the blanket beside him.
We eat in comfortable silence, the kind that only comes when you're completely at ease with someone. When you don't need to fill every second with words.
But the silence also gives my thoughts too much room to spiral.
I glance at Chase, his profile outlined against the sky, and my heart aches. Two weeks without his warm smile, his infectious laugh, his gentle touch. Fourteen nights without falling asleep in his arms, without waking up to his kisses.
The thought is unbearable, a constant drumbeat echoing through my mind. Closer, closer, closer... the clock is ticking, time moving too quickly until I have to board that plane.
Until I have to leave him behind.
Chase finishes his sandwich and leans back on his elbows, face tilted toward the sun. "So… are you coming to the dance next weekend?"
I glance at him with a frown.
"Dance?"
"The Harvest Dance. At Wildflower Meadow." He glances at me, casual and easy. "It's a whole town thing. Kinda like the cook-off. You'll get used to it, it's what we do in Stone River to keep ourselves busy."
"I like all the events. They're fun."
"Well, you'll like this one ever better." He smiles, but his tone is different. Like he's not really asking me, just checking in. "Live band, dancing under the stars, Betty makes her famous apple cider. I thought maybe you'd want to go. With me."
Oh God.
I can't.
I can't tell him.
Not when he's looking at me like that… hopeful and open and so genuinely excited about the idea of me being there.
If I tell him I'm not coming next weekend, it will crush him.
I know about his mother leaving, his sister moving to Germany, his fear of being abandoned by everyone he cares about.
"I…" My throat closes around the words.
Liar. You're a liar.
"Yeah." I feel my heart crumble. "Yeah, that sounds… really nice."
His entire face lights up. Like he's just as surprised as I am. "Yeah?"