Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
ELENA
TESSA
Why is Chase asking what happened with Peter?
ELENA
Probably because I wouldn’t tell him
But you can if he’s asking
TESSA
Okay… but why is he asking Elena?
ELENA
Idk Tessa. Maybe because he’s a good guy?
You guys give him an awfully hard time
TESSA
Woah okay
We’ve got a minor hiccup over here at the cidery site, so Chase is coming to help you unload the moving pod.
Just please be careful
I love you and I don’t want to see you get hurt again.
ELENA
There’s nothing to worry about.
Thirty minutes later, there was a knock on my front door.
I need to get a Ring camera ASAP.
When I opened it, I found an utterly tortured looking Chase on the other side. “Elena...”
Tessa must have said something. What, I wasn’t sure.
“Don’t. I can’t. I am barely holding it together right now.”
“Let me help,” he said, stepping inside. His eyes darted around the empty house like he was looking for something to fix. “I can install security cameras. Change the locks. Whatever you need.”
“Chase—”
“That bastard’s not getting anywhere near you again.” His hands were already checking the front door’s deadbolt. “I’ll call my buddy Andy. He’s a cop, but he does security systems on the side. We can have one installed by tonight.”
“Please stop.” My voice cracked.
He froze, finally looking at me. Really looking. I could see the moment he registered my trembling hands, my shallow breathing.
“Shit. I’m making it worse.”
I nodded, wrapping my arms around myself.
“I just... I want to fix this for you.” His voice was rough with frustration—at himself, at Peter, at the whole situation. “Tell me how to fix it.”
“You can’t.” The words came out quiet and sad. “Some things can’t be fixed, Chase. They can only be survived.”
He looked so lost standing there, this big strong man who could probably break Peter in half but couldn’t punch his way through this particular problem.
Part of me wanted to let him try—to accept his offered protection, his need to make everything better.
But I’d spent too long letting other people think they knew what was best for me.
“I need to do this my way,” I said. “On my terms.”
Something flickered in his eyes—understanding maybe, or resignation. “Okay.” He ran a hand through his hair. “But will you at least let me help unload? No security system talk, I promise. Just... let me do this one thing?”
I managed a small smile. “Yeah. I’d like that.”
He didn’t try to hug me or touch me, didn’t push for more details about Peter. Just grabbed a box from the pod and followed me inside.
We worked in comfortable silence, and if he positioned himself between me and the door every time we heard a car pass, I pretended not to notice.
The afternoon light was fading by the time we got the last box inside.
Chase had worked steadily, efficiently, letting me direct where everything should go without argument.
When I stumbled over a box labeled Kitchen, his hands found my waist, steadying me.
The touch was brief but electric, reminding me of that day at the lodge when he’d taught me to snowboard.
“You okay?” he asked softly, not immediately letting go.
I nodded, hyperaware of his proximity, of how safe it made me feel despite everything. “Just tired.”
“Here.” He guided me to sit on one of the boxes then disappeared into the kitchen. I heard water running, cabinets opening and closing. He returned with a glass of water and two ibuprofen from the bottle I’d left on the counter earlier.
The simple thoughtfulness of the gesture made my throat tight. Peter had never… not without an audience. His affection had always been about appearances, something polished and public. Chase’s was different. Quiet. Uncomplicated. Just for me.
Chase crouched in front of me, his expression concerned. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I took the pills, avoiding his eyes. “It’s just... no one’s taken care of me in a long time.”
His jaw clenched, but instead of the anger I expected, he just reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. The gentleness of it nearly broke me.
“You haven’t asked,” I said finally, watching his face. “About what happened.”
He set the empty glass aside and settled on the floor near my feet, close enough that I could feel his warmth but not so close as to make me feel trapped. “Figured you’d tell me if you wanted to.”
“But you asked Tessa.”
His shoulders tensed. “Yeah. Because every time I look at you, I see those bruises from the hotel. I see your fingers now.” He gestured toward my splinted hand. “I want to hunt that bastard down and—” He cut himself off, raking a hand through his hair. “But that’s not what you need, is it?”
Without thinking, I slid down to sit beside him, our shoulders touching. He went very still, like he was afraid any movement might scare me away. But for the first time in years, I didn’t feel scared. I felt... anchored.
“No, it’s not what I need,” I said softly, letting my head rest against his shoulder.
His arm came around me carefully, giving me plenty of time to pull away. When I didn’t, he drew me closer, his chin resting on top of my head. We sat like that for a long moment, just breathing together.
“Then what do you need, Elena?” The words rumbled through his chest where I was pressed against him. “Because I’m flying blind here, and I’m scared shitless of fucking this up.”
The admission cost him—I could see it in the way he wouldn’t meet my eyes, in how his hand clenched at his side. Chase Everton, who acted so confident, so sure of himself, was terrified of making a wrong move.
Just like I was.
“I need...” The words stuck in my throat. “I need to know that when I do tell you everything, you won’t...”
“Won’t what?”
“Won’t look at me different. Won’t see me as broken.”
He started to reach for me, then stopped himself. “Elena—”
A car door slammed outside, and I flinched hard enough to rattle the empty kitchen cabinets. Chase lifted from his spot on the floor just enough to peer out the window.
“Just the neighbor,” he said softly.
I nodded, trying to slow my racing heart. This was exactly what I was afraid of—being seen as damaged, jumping at shadows.
But when Chase turned back to me, there was no pity in his eyes. Just that same intensity I remembered from the hotel, like I was something precious he wanted to protect but didn’t quite know how.
“I see you,” he said roughly. “Not what he did to you. Just you.”
For that moment, caught in Chase’s fierce gaze, I let myself believe him.
I let myself hope.
Chase started to stand from his spot on the floor, but I caught his wrist. “Wait.”
He stilled instantly, those blue eyes finding mine. The touch of his skin under my fingers sent electricity up my arm, and suddenly I couldn’t remember what I’d wanted to say. All I could think about was that day in my hotel room, his hands gentle on my body, his mouth...
“Elena.” His voice was rough, warning. Like he knew exactly where my thoughts had gone.
I should’ve let go of his wrist. I should’ve done anything except what I actually did, which was lean forward until I could feel his breath on my lips.
“What are you doing, Sweetness?” The nickname came out barely above a whisper.
“I don’t know.” It was honest, at least. After months of careful planning, of documenting everything, of knowing exactly what my next move would be... this wasn’t part of any plan. This was just want, pure and simple.
His free hand came up to cup my face, thumb brushing my cheekbone. “You sure about this?”
Instead of answering, I closed the distance between us.
His lips were soft against mine, hesitant at first, then hungry. The kiss deepened, and I made a small sound in the back of my throat that seemed to break something loose in him. His hand slid from my face into my hair, tilting my head back as his mouth moved to my neck.
“God, I missed touching you,” he breathed against my skin. “Been thinking about this since that day at the hotel.”
I arched into him, my fingers finding the buttons of his flannel. “Chase...”
“Tell me to stop,” he murmured, trailing kisses along my collarbone. “Tell me this isn’t what you want.”
Instead, I pulled him closer, working the buttons free one by one. His skin was warm under my hands, muscles tensing as I explored. When I scraped my nails lightly down his chest, he groaned.
“Elena...” He pulled back just enough to look at me, pupils blown wide with desire. “We need to get you a bed.”
I laughed breathlessly. “Sorry. I planned to go tonight.”
His answering grin was wicked. “I’ll make it work.”
He shrugged out of his flannel, laying it on the floor beside us before easing me back onto it. The wood was hard beneath me, but I barely noticed, too focused on the way he was looking at me—like I was something precious, something worthy of worship.
His hands slid under the hem of my sweater, warm against my ribs. “Can I...?”
“Yes,” I breathed. “Please.”
The sweater joined his flannel on the floor. His fingers traced patterns on my skin, featherlight touches that made me shiver. When his mouth followed the path of his hands, I gasped, arching up into him.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured against my stomach. “So fucking beautiful. And so strong. So brave.”
His words, so different from Peter’s cruel comments about my weight, my clothes, my everything, made my throat tight.
Chase noticed my hesitation immediately, pulling back to look at me. “You okay, Sweetness?”
I nodded, pulling him back down to me. His mouth found that sensitive spot below my ear that made me forget everything except how good this felt. How right. His hands slid lower, teasing along the waistband of my jeans until I was practically squirming beneath him.
“Chase,” I gasped as his fingers popped the button of my jeans. “Wait...”
He froze instantly. “Too fast?”
“No, god no.” I laughed breathlessly. “Just... do you have...?”