TEN
SERENA
The museum corridor is quiet. Dimly lit and cool compared to the heat of the dance floor. My feet ache from dancing, but I’m smiling too. Chase has been a fun fake boyfriend. He’s been attentive and sweet. Making sure I’m OK one moment, making me laugh the next.
Ahead of me, an exhibit case catches my eye. I step closer, admiring the charred and pitted surface of a meteorite. It’s the size of a baseball and might not seem like much to look at, but the small rock has survived thousands of years in space before crashing down to earth to be admired and learned from. I’ve always loved museums. My parents used to bring us every summer. Elle would be constantly asking how long before she could look in the gift shop or get an ice cream, while I lingered over every small treasure.
We didn’t have a lot of money growing up. Two teachers’ salaries didn’t stretch far. Family vacations meant camping in national forests and visiting museums on free-entry days. But there was a lot of love and a lot of fun, and I never felt like I was missing out.
I’m leaning over the case, reading about the chemical composition of the meteorite when a voice comes from close behind me. Too close.
“I love that you’re trying to make me jealous tonight.”
I jolt, heart leaping to my throat as I spin around and find Ryan right behind me. The way he snuck up, not making a sound, has me off-balance and uneasy.
“Ryan,” I manage, stepping back and regaining my space.
Except Ryan follows, moving casually, like he has the right. A shiver creeps down my spine. The last few weeks replay in my thoughts. The day Ryan waited for me after work with a bouquet of flowers. The time the week before, when he knocked on my apartment door with a full picnic basket and plans to take a road trip to the Rocky Mountain National Park. Both times, I said no. And both times, he looked at me like my refusal was part of a game he would eventually win.
I even skipped my Friday morning Pilates class last week because his car was parked in the lot. My favorite teacher—my favorite way to start the day—ruined because there was no way I would be able to relax with him on the mat beside me.
“I’m not trying to make you jealous,” I say, keeping my voice light but clear. “Chase and I are together now. I’m sorry, Ryan, we’re not getting back together.”
“You and Chase, huh?” Ryan raises his brows. “Come on, Serena. You told me a thousand times you were just friends. And now suddenly you’re soulmates. You’ve obviously roped him into pretending tonight just to get to me. Almost had me convinced, too.” He leans closer. I step back again, but my spine hits the cold wall. Ryan rests his hand above my head, still smiling. “It’s pretty cute of you to go to so much effort.”
Fuck!
My heart starts to race. Cold prickles my skin. I know I should move, should shove him back, but I feel trapped. I don’t want to escalate this. I don’t want to find out what would happen if I try to walk away.
“Time to head back to the ballroom, Ryan,” I say.
He doesn’t move. Doesn’t back away. “You want to play games?” he asks, voice low and edged with a menace. “Fine. Keep playing, Serena. Just know I always win.”
“I’m not playing any games,” I cry, allowing the frustration to leak into my voice. “We’re over. I want you to leave me alone.”
His smile is still stretched on his lips but there’s a coldness to it I don’t like. My pulse is now a drumbeat in my ears. I glance along the corridor, praying someone comes out of the ballroom. A second later there’s movement, and I almost cry out with relief. A familiar figure is closing the distance in long, purposeful strides. Seconds later, Chase is on us. There’s something dark in his eyes I’ve only seen when I’m on the sidelines watching him play football. A look that says he’s not backing down.
Ryan turns but doesn’t shift away. “Get lost, Sullivan. This doesn’t concern you.”
Chase’s voice is steel. “That’s my girlfriend you’re leaning over, so it does concern me. And even if Serena wasn’t my girlfriend, the way you’re getting in her space when she’s asked you to step back is serious creep behavior.”
In one movement, Chase is towering over Ryan while his hand slips into mine, tugging me toward him. His other hand meets Ryan’s chest, not a push, just a warning.
“It’s time for you to leave, Ryan.”
Ryan glares up at him, jaw ticking, but doesn’t argue. He knows better. Chase doesn’t flinch, doesn’t push, doesn’t threaten. But he doesn’t back down either.
“Come on, Serena,” Chase says, throwing his arm around my shoulder, pulling me close. “Our car is here.”
I lean into him. Not because he’s my fake boyfriend. But because he’s my real best friend and even if I don’t want to admit it, what happened with Ryan scared me.
Outside, I draw in a breath of crisp night air and try to calm the furious beating of my heart. I’m OK. I’m safe. Chase doesn’t loosen his hold on me as we step toward a waiting car, and he opens the door.
“My clutch,” I say, suddenly remembering. “It’s on the table. My keys…”
“Dylan grabbed it. And there’s no way I’m letting you go back to your apartment alone after that. You’re coming back to the ranch with me. Your truck’s there anyway.”
He tilts his head toward the open car door, and I don’t hesitate.
“What about the others?” I ask as we settle into our seats and the driver pulls out.
“Harper and Jake are staying in the city. Mama, Dylan, and Izzy went ahead.” Chase turns to me then, his brows drawn together, his dark eyes searching. “Are you OK?”
My voice is shaky as I reply. “Yeah. Just a little rattled.”
“What Ryan did back there wasn’t OK. Has he done anything like that before?”
I pause, not wanting to admit it, but Chase knows me better than anyone. It would be pointless to lie. “He’s been hanging around a lot lately. Waiting for me after work, showing up places, trying to convince me to give him another chance. It’s been… uncomfortable. But tonight was the first time he actually scared me.”
Chase’s jaw tightens. “You should talk to Human Resources. Let them know what’s going on.”
“I don’t want to cause trouble,” I say, dropping my gaze from the intensity of Chase’s eyes. “Ryan could make things difficult for me at work. He deals directly with the budget for the cheer team. He could sideline my job or terminate my contract any time he wants and call it budget cuts. I’d rather let the dust settle on its own for now.”
The silence draws out. I know Chase doesn’t agree, but he’s always respected my decisions. A moment later, his hand slides into mine, squeezing tight. “Just promise me, if anything else happens, you’ll talk to someone in HR about it?”
“I promise,” I say. “I still can’t believe our fake date didn’t convince him. Maybe he knows me too well.”
Chase makes a face, the one where he’s about to admit something he doesn’t want to. Usually, it’s him admitting he’s bought me an ice cream even after I said I didn’t want one, because he knows I’ll change my mind halfway through his and steal the rest.
“What is it?” I ask.
He rubs a hand over his jaw before reaching into his pocket for his phone. “I had a look on socials just before I came to find you. And…” He taps his screen before turning it toward me.
It’s a Reel of our kiss, and… Oh. My. God. I knew it was good, but this is seriously hot to watch. Except the words across the image read: Too hot to be real!
“Some of the media outlets are running it as us being together, but the fans… they’re not convinced. I guess the fact that everyone knows we’ve been best friends since forever is working against us.”
I groan, leaning my head against the headrest. I’m suddenly exhausted. Everything we did tonight was for nothing. Ryan didn’t believe us and neither have the Chasing Love fandom.
“What do we do now?” I ask.
“It’s just like we planned. We carry on. We double down.”
“You’re sure?” I ask.
Mischief dances in Chase’s eyes. “We’re not quitters, Serena. Remember when we were twelve and tried to build that treehouse with nothing but rope, two-by-fours, and a hammer we stole from the barn?”
I laugh. “And you fell out and we thought you’d broken your arm.”
“But I didn’t. And we went back the next day and the one after that. And eventually we had our treehouse. You and me—we’re not quitters. I’ll even take you on a date to a home furnishings store.”
“You’re only saying that because you know how much I’ve been wanting to drag you to buy more furniture.”
His voice is teasing. “Throws and pillows. Pictures for the walls. Those pointless ornaments you love. Candles.”
I laugh. “You had me at throws.”
He claps his hands together. “By the time the Denver Fall Fair comes around, no one on the planet will think we’re fake.”
For a second, when our eyes meet, I feel a whisper of something long-forgotten burning inside me…