Chapter Twelve Chase
Chapter Twelve
Chase
I never left.
Her location shoot was an hour away, but the plan was to deliver the food and come back. I mean, I’d hoped she’d introduce me around . . . as a friend. But I was also happy to just feed her.
Until I heard her scream.
I wasn’t even in the park, but I came running because it sounded just like . . . Fuck. I can’t even go there in my head, but I know she did because I heard what she said . . . she said he.
Evie was back in that night, even if only for a split second, which is why I never left. I waited around, really fucking tired, pretending to ignore all the security checks in the form of glances she gave me.
Because I needed her to know that no matter where she was, I was there too.
And when she packed up, so did I.
But now, watching her from the doorway as she stands aimless in the middle of her room, I’m at a loss for what to say or do. The night’s caught up with her. All the adrenaline gone, and now only the aftereffects of her panic attack hang heavy on her small frame.
Evie’s feisty and spunky and an absolute force of nature. But she still feels like the softest wind could knock her over.
With a heavy exhale, I uncross my arms, pushing off the jamb, and walk inside her room, saying something so I don’t startle her.
“Hey, let me help you.”
I come up behind her, my fingers gently hooking under the strap of her bag before I slide it off her shoulder and place it on her bed. She looks down at the ground and rubs her forehead, letting out a sigh.
“You don’t have to do anything for me, Chase. I’m fine. You’ve done enough.”
She says it as I walk past her toward the bathroom.
I can feel her eyes on me as I turn on the bathtub, filling it with warm water, testing it with the back of my hand to make sure it’s hot enough.
“Bubble bath?” I ask, locking eyes with her.
She stares at me for a moment, like there are a million thoughts running through her, before she points to a cabinet, saying nothing. So I open it, finding some other jars labeled bath salt, as well as the bubble bath.
The sound of the water bubbles whooshes as I pour it all in and walk back inside the bedroom, extending my hand, motioning with my head for her to come with me.
Evie frowns, and I think she’s going to push back, but she doesn’t. Instead, she takes a hesitant step forward and slips her soft palm into mine.
“For the record, I can undress myself,” she says quietly.
Her eyes lift, slowly meeting mine again. There’s not nearly enough snark behind them for me to stop worrying, but I play along, saying something outlandish as I lead her inside the bathroom.
“Oh, I know. You used to strip in my dreams plenty.”
She huffs a surprised laugh. “Is that so?”
I shrug, giving her a wink over my shoulder. “Duh. We’re just friends now, so you don’t do that anymore, which is why I said ‘used to.’”
Or maybe I’m yours . . . “This is my . . . Chase. This is Chase.”
She places her phone down on the counter, looking at the filling tub, seemingly lost in thought, so I start to walk away.
But she grabs the bottom of my shirt, not looking at me. And her voice is so quiet that it makes me want to get back in my car, drive the hour back, and punch that motherfucker in his goddamn face for that prank.
“Don’t go too far, okay?”
I eat my thoughts and nod. “I won’t. Promise.”
As her fingers drift away, I have an overwhelming urge to pull her back into my arms like I did on set, but I don’t think she’d let me anymore. So I walk back out, into the bedroom, hearing the door close softly behind me.
Fuck. I run my fingers through my hair as I look around the room, trying to think of what else I can do for her. There has to be something.
That’s when a thought strikes.
“Hey, I’ll be right back,” I call out, walking quickly out of the room to grab my laptop and something else I think she’ll appreciate.
I’m back in minutes, standing in front of the door, a little out of breath. Hopeful to make shit better for her, even though I know nothing ever makes what we feel better.
Except . . . The thought hits me hard because that’s not totally true for me. I feel good when she’s around . . . and I think about that night less.
Evie brings me ease.
I want to try and give that to her tonight.
“I’m back . . . Are you all bubbled up? Can I come in?”
I hear her huff a half-hearted laugh. “Yes. I’m indecently decent.”
A chuckle accompanies my struggle to open the door. I can only use a few fingers because my laptop is in one hand, shot glasses are in the other, and a bottle of booze under my arm.
But I get it open, using my shoulder to push through, peeking my face around the door with a grin.
“Hi,” she breathes out, lifting a toe out of the bubbles to touch the faucet.
Her toenails are painted red. And I can’t describe what that’s doing to me right now because if I did, I’d be standing here with an erection.
Especially since there’s nothing but her head bobbing above a bathtub full of bubbles, those long braids all wrapped up on top of her head in a cute white bow.
“I come bearing gifts.” I smirk, coming out from behind the door, showing my left hand first. “For a movie while you soak.” She smiles, so I slide my right hand around the door, presenting the glasses. “For some chill because the night sucked.”
Her brows rise. “Shots?”
I nod, shrugging to draw her attention to the long-necked bottle tucked under my arm. “Limoncello . . . We keep it classy.”
She lifts her arm, water and suds dripping off before taking both the yellow shot glasses, letting me turn around to set up my laptop on the counter. But she lets out a shaky breath, so I turn back around and reach for my glass.
“Let’s do these first?”
Evie licks her lips as I uncork the bottle and fill them. She hands me mine before our eyes connect. Goddamn, I will never stop thinking how pretty those eyes are. Her eyes are prettier than all my other friends’ eyes.
Friend. That’s a dumb word.
She raises it like she’s giving me a cheers before knocking it back.
“Gettin’ right to it,” I tease before giving her the same nod of my glass, but before I can lift it to drink, she reaches out and steals it, gulping it back too.
“What the—” I fake protest, watching her wipe the back of her wet hand over her mouth. “I take it you needed a double?”
“Something like that,” she breathes out, looking up at me. “Call it liquid courage.”
I’d like to call it fucking hot. But that’s not what she needs right now, so with that thought, I give her a wink and start to turn around to tend to the movie, but her voice halts my movement.
No, not her voice—her hand on the waistband of my jeans.
I blink down at her as I stand there in silence. She’s just staring up at me, those eyes saying so much while her mouth says nothing at all.
To say I’m caught off guard would downplay how I’m also intrigued. I watch her swallow, looking for the courage to say what she wants. That’s why she took my shot—her liquid courage.
But surely no matter what it is she wants to say, she knows I’ll understand. That whatever she wants, I’d get.
I part my lips to tell her in case she doesn’t, but her fingernails barely scrape my stomach. And that makes my breath come out ragged in the quiet of the room as I only manage to whisper, “Evie.”
She says nothing. Just stares up at me.
We’re breathing in sync, eyes fixed. And the drip of the faucet is the only sound in the room as her chest rises and falls.
The familiar pull I have to her starts to cloud my judgement, so I blink a few times, about to back away, but she beats me to the punch.
“You should get in.” Her voice is husky and breathless.
Fuck draws out in my head. There’s no way I’m hearing her right.
But I know I am. I felt it the moment she laid eyes on me just now.
She peeks up at me through long lashes, her bottom lip drawn between her teeth before it glides out slowly.
“What happened to being just friends . . .”
I ask, but I don’t care about the answer.
The silence grows around us, as if it’s stilling to make room for the electricity growing between us. When she doesn’t answer, I test her resolve, rocking back on my heels to move away, but she grips my jeans tighter and sits up.
Goddamn.
Water sloshes, and my knees feel weak as water slides between her full breasts, soapy bubbles slowly falling from her nipples.
She’s looking up at me, topless and brazen.
God never created a more beautiful woman.
“Get in, Chase. We can go back to being friends tomorrow.”
I look deeply into her eyes, understanding exactly what she means—a one and done—but I shake my head anyway because now I do need to know why.
Both her hands come to my jeans as the shine in her eyes makes me feel how raw she is.
“There’s too much going on inside of me. I’m still too scared, and for whatever reason, you’re the only one that makes that go away. I don’t understand it . . . and I don’t want to analyze it. But you’re the only place I feel safe. You take it all away.”
We don’t have to analyze it, because I understand it. Everything she’s saying . . . none of it could ever make sense to anyone else except for us.
What she doesn’t get is we feel the same.
Evie closes her eyes as if she’s talking to herself. “I just need a moment . . .” Her lashes flutter open as she locks that exquisite gaze back on mine. “Please give me one.”
I’ll give her as many as she wants. Every day. For the rest of my life.
Because I’m crazy about the girl.
She never had to ask me twice. Period. The end.
Without another word, I step directly into the tub, T-shirt, jeans, and socks. She gasps up at my smile before I sit down, bounding water over the sides.
“What? You wanted a moment . . . How am I doing?”
There’s relief in her smile as I slide my hand around her slick body, pulling it flush to mine.
“Do you remember how to do this?” I tease, my voice low and deep. “Since the official statement is we never happened.”