Chapter 17 #2
I manage to find an empty lounge chair and ease into it, so I can sip on my sangria and observe. And maybe it’s the alcohol, or the fact that I’ve already been through absolute hell, but it feels like everyone’s eyes are on me, watching.
The ocean breeze is freezing, so I scrunch my knees up and pull the bottom of my sweatshirt over them.
It helps a little. Then I drain the rest of my drink while I watch a handful of drunk people play beach cricket, which is more entertaining than one would think.
They can barely walk straight, let alone hit a ball.
Out of my periphery, I see a tall figure emerge from the surrounding shadows and sit on the end of my lounge chair.
My mind is still processing the sheer audacity of whoever this is, sitting on my chair, when a red solo cup fills my vision. A bamboo straw and a pink umbrella balance on the rim of the cup. “I know your weakness for a good Mai-Tai.”
That voice.
My eyes climb up to the stranger’s face, only it’s not a stranger. Broad shoulders fill out a white polo shirt, and his short brown hair is combed neatly back from his face. A pair of familiar brown eyes lock on me.
“Chase, ” I squeak, heart in my throat. I pull my legs out of my sweatshirt and sit up straighter, taking the drink from his hand. “What are you doing here? I mean, how did you—?”
Was he looking for me? How did he find me? Bumping into him here is almost too good to be true.
“Weird seeing you here,” he says flatly, echoing my thoughts. “Didn’t you say you were at a friend’s place, taking a break?”
I lean forward and open my mouth to tell him everything, when Jackson’s voice fills my head like a movie voiceover, every word crystal clear—Try to escape, and I swear to God, Ava, I will hunt you down, drag you back to my bed, and chain you there if I have to.
Not to mention what he’d do to Chase.
“Yeah,” I laugh. “That friend basically kidnapped me. I didn’t exactly want to come.”
He nods, but it’s stiff. Hesitant. He doesn’t kiss me or reach out to touch me, which means he’s pissed. But who can blame him? I have no clue what Jackson texted him, pretending to be me, but it was probably pretty blunt.
“I’m surprised to see you here,” I say, then rush to add, “I mean, it’s a happy surprise. But I didn’t think you came to these kinds of things.”
Chase doesn’t do parties. He goes to class, to work, then hangs out at my place. If we’re lucky, we might get a date night or something, but even that’s pretty rare. He’s a homebody, through and through.
He takes a sip of his beer. “My buddy, Dorian, is a member of the Flaming Crown. He could tell I was feeling shitty, so he invited me.”
“Burning Crown,” I say.
He leans in closer to hear me over the music.“I’m sorry, what?”
“The Burning Crown,” I say, a little louder this time. “That’s the name of the society.”
“Right,” he says, his gaze dropping to the pendant resting against my chest, visible on top of my sweatshirt. Shit. If I’d been thinking, I would have tucked it underneath. Too late now.
“Is that—?” He pauses, tilts his head, and recalculates his words. “When I was invited here tonight, Dorian said there were only two rules. One, don’t openly talk about the society, and two, don’t touch any girl wearing that necklace. It means she’s been taken by one of the leaders.”
I swallow, heart racing, completely thrown by his observation.
“Is that what this is about, Ava? Is that why you needed a break?” he presses, eyes locked on mine. “Are you hooking up with someone else?”
Guilt swamps me, even though none of this was my choice. But, regardless, he deserves to know the truth…
“No,” I say quickly, then catch myself. “I mean, yes.” I pause, exhale slowly, and force myself to start over. “It’s my ex, Jackson. We dated back in Missouri, and…” I swallow hard. “Yeah, he’s one of the leaders of the Burning Crown.”
He blinks, absorbing that. “So…you bumped into each other at Isca or what? I mean, you don’t go anywhere else.”
“Um, yeah,” I say with an awkward shrug. I mean, we did reconnect at Isca. In the parking lot. When he kidnapped me.
Chase is silent, and that silence kills me.
“Chase—” I reach out to touch his arm, but he pulls it away.
“Listen, I get it,” he says, his tone calm. “I just wish you’d been honest with me.”
Tears sting the backs of my eyes, but I manage to hold them back. Chase is a good guy, a safe guy. Do I love him? I don’t know. But there’s time for that. And this is what I do know—I’m content with Chase. Comfortable. And the idea of losing that is terrifying.
But the damage is done. I can see it on his face. And I have no idea what I could possibly say to fix this, but I have to try. “Please, let’s just talk,” I plead. “Let me explain.”
He leans back and shakes his head. “You need to figure things out first, Ava. Then maybe we’ll have something to talk about.”
A lump forms in my throat. “So this is it, then? We’re breaking up?”
I could literally kill Jackson right now.
Chase’s warm eyes search my face. “We’re just pressing pause, until you know what you really want.”
That gives me a little relief, at least. And his response is just confirmation that Chase is the right choice.
Imagine Jackson being this secure. There’s no way in hell he’d ever allow me to explore a relationship with another guy while he’s actively fucking me—evidence that Chase is so much more evolved and mature than Jackson could ever hope to be.
“A pause,” I repeat, nodding stiffly. “Okay. That’s fair.”
A smile curves his lips, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. If I weren’t so quick to trust him, I might wonder what he’s hiding. But Chase isn’t like other guys. He’s genuine, honest.
Everything Jackson isn’t.