25. Chase
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHASE
W aking up to the bed and my arms empty, I half wonder if I dreamed everything from last night. The kiss. Kisses. Lots of kisses and watching fireworks from my bed. Feeling Kayla’s laugh vibrate against my chest. Her touch. I sit up and run my hand through my hair, looking around for my phone, when I see it on the floor, next to her bracelet. A late-night memory hits me of her giggling. Her trying to untangle the chain from the snag in my shirt collar before ripping it off her wrist and throwing it on the floor, diving her lips back into mine. Nope, no dream could compare to last night. I reach for my phone, swiping the bracelet up with it and shoot off a quick text.
Me
You snuck out on me.
Kayla
Had to work and didn’t want to wake you.
Me
Dinner tonight?
Kayla
Can’ t. Working a split shift and have to close tonight.
Coming in for coffee today? There’s still time for breakfast…
Me
Work meeting this a.m. What about lunch today?
Kayla
Babysitting for my neighbor at lunch. Tomorrow?
Me
I can’t wait until tomorrow. Even if it’s just five minutes, I want to see you.
Kayla
Okay… I have a 15 min. break after the dinner rush. 8:00?
Me
I’ll be there *smiley face* This is our first date… should I be nervous?
Kayla
Definitely. And then you can stare at me and leave your number in the tip jar with some line about stealing your breath away. Oh, wait…
My parents are eating breakfast when I walk into their rental. Dad has his arm draped lazily over the back of Mom’s chair, holding his phone away from his face to read whatever is on the screen. Avery is sitting at the kitchen bar, typing furiously on her phone. I ruffle her hair as I walk by, and she swiftly elbows me in the back.
“Cut it out, Chase!” she says, smoothing her mussed-up ponytail.
“I missed you, Av! Gotta make up for lost time.” I wink, and she rolls her eyes at me as she turns back to her phone. “Where’s Had?” I ask, leaning against the countertop, looking around the room for my youngest sister.
“She slept over with Artemis last night. They haven’t seen each other in so long, I can’t tear them apart,” Mom answers, looking up from her word puzzle. “Speaking of last night…how’d it go?”
“Leave him alone, Christine, before you get details from your precious baby boy that aren’t so innocent,” Dad says.
“Oh, he didn’t have sex with Kayla. He likes her too much to rush into that.” She stares at me over her readers, daring me to challenge her.
“Oh?” Challenge accepted. “And what makes you say that?” I volley back at her. I’ve told her bits and pieces about my journey to capturing Kayla’s attention, but never details that would give her any notion of my bedroom habits.
She folds her arms, tipping her head as the glare in her eyes intensifies.
“It’s the way you look at her, Chase,” Dad intercepts, putting his phone down on the table and crossing one ankle over the other. I rub my fingers across my forehead, wondering how I walked into this battle at nine-thirty a.m. “Your last girlfriend from a year ago…what was her name? Lucy?”
“Lacie,” Mom says, helping him.
“Right. You never looked at her that way. Or the other one, Carly.”
“Kylee…” Mom helps him again.
“What would I do without you?” he asks, leaning down to kiss her temple.
“Lose your head, that’s what,” she teases back, smiling up at him and cupping his chin. They lean in to share a kiss, and I hear my sister gagging behind me .
“Ew! Your room is right there !” Avery points down the hallway, her face scrunched up like this is the most disgusting thing she’s ever seen.
“And yours is upstairs.” Mom shrugs, kissing Dad one more time. Avery hops off the stool and stomps up the stairs, mumbling something about the kitchen being a place where we eat. I shake my head and take her seat, watching the unabashed love my parents share. They’ve been this way forever, never leaving the ‘high school sweetheart’ status behind, and I admire them for it. I strive to emulate it.
“Anyway, I think when you meet someone who makes you look at them the way you look at Kayla, you do whatever it takes to keep them,” Mom says.
She turns and gazes into Dad’s eyes, a scene I’ve witnessed so many times before. This is just the way they look at each other, but something about this time, this glance, gives me a new perspective.
“And in what way do I look at her?” I ask, hoping to be told what I already know. I anxiously rub the hair on my face while I wait.
Dad answers this time, eyes still fixed on Mom. “Like there’s no rush, and you can see forever.”
Getting to the diner at seven forty-five feels like the cool water at the end of a long race. I’m early, but I just couldn’t wait any longer. Bert sits in his spot at the end of the counter, reading the paper as he sips on his decaf, like he does on most nights. I look around the warmly lit diner for Kayla, spotting her at the end of the room, past the row of booths. She layers plates and cups on a tray and maneuvers around a chair, walking behind the counter and dumping the stack through the kitchen window. She hasn’t noticed me yet, and just like usual, the casual way she navigates the space around her, graceful and confident, sets my heart racing. When she turns and sees me, she smiles and it’s bright enough to melt me down to bare bones.
“Staring again?” she asks, coming around the counter to stand next to me.
“Guilty,” I say, reaching to pull her closer. She stands between my knees, palms flat against my chest.
“Patti’s sick today, so I have to take my break out here.” She flashes her teeth in a nervous grin.
“That’s okay. Is she alright?”
“She thinks the new fish place down the street gave her food poisoning a couple of days ago. She’s on the mend, but needs me to open in the morning too.”
I stroke her cheek, rubbing my thumb down to her jaw. I just want to press my lips to hers, but Bert’s still over there, sipping away in the corner. Even though we talked about PDA last night, I don’t want to make her uncomfortable at work. “I missed you today,” I whisper, tipping my head to hers as I reach into my back pocket for her bracelet.
“I’m sorry I snuck out,” she whispers back, running fingers up the back of my neck and into my hair. Capturing her hand and bringing it between us, I hook the bracelet around her wrist and press a kiss to her thumb. “I didn’t want to wake you up that early,” she continues, peeking up at me.
“Wake me up. Always wake me up. I don’t care what time it?—”
The bell above the door rings again, and she sighs, straightening out her back and stepping away. “That’s my cue,” she says, rubbing her face with a sigh. “Can I get you anything?”
I shake my head and watch as she greets the couple making their way to a booth. I didn’t know a “dessert rush” was a thing, but five more groups shuffle in, demanding one form of pastry or another. Except for touches that are far too brief as she walks between the kitchen and the customers, I don’t get another minute with her until the booths empty out again. With the last group walking out of the diner, she leans over the speckled quartz countertop, planting her elbows as she dips her head. She rubs her eyes like she’s trying to wipe the last hour from her face.
“Twenty minutes,” she sighs. “Twenty minutes and I can lock the doors.”
“Think he fell asleep over there?” I jut my thumb to the corner, taking in the suspenders fitting too tightly against Bert’s white button-down shirt. His bowler hat sits on the countertop next to his newspaper.
“Oh, Bert? Naw, he’s always here this late. He comes in early too. Patti pays him in free food to make sure no one causes problems.”
“So he’s a bouncer?”
Stifling a yawn, she nods and walks in his direction.
“Hey, Bert, you can head out early tonight if you want. Chase will stay with me while I clean up.”
He whips his head over to me, eyes narrowing as I give a little wave. “Alright, Kayla, but you call me if you need anything. I’m just around the corner.”
She nods, giving him a thumbs-up.
“Any more pie left?” he asks, craning his neck to look at the dessert display.
“Fresh out. That last group took the rest of it to-go,” she tells him, grabbing his empty cup and plate.
“Ah, well, I can’t say I blame them.” He stands, places the bowler on his head, and strolls right over to me before putting a hand on my shoulder. With a pointed look, he tells me, “She walked today. You make sure she gets home safe.”
“You got it, Bert.” I nod back at him, and he claps my shoulder twice before walking out the door.
Kayla’s already gotten to work, wiping down appliances and countertops, flipping display light switches off as she goes. She stifles several more yawns as she makes her way to my end of the bar. When she gets close enough, I grab her hand, slipping the wet cloth from her fingers.
“Let me do this,” I say, reaching for the spray bottle in her other hand. She steps back, just out of reach.
“No, Chase, I got it. It’ll take me fifteen minutes, tops.” She reaches forward to grab the towel, and it’s my turn to lean back.
“You’re tired. Let me help you so you can get home and sleep. It’s my fault you were up so late anyway.” I smirk.
She stares at me, exhausted and exasperated to be losing this battle of wills, and hands over the spray bottle slowly.Grabbing more towels from under the bar, she directs me to the booths and tables while she tackles the dishes. Fifteen minutes turns into seven, and before I know it, she’s locking the front door. She places a box of dirty towels in my arms, andI follow her to the back to dump the towels in the washing machine.
“Let me just grab my stuff, and I’ll be ready to go,” she says, slipping the Patty apron over her head. She throws it in the washer with some detergent, preparing it to be run in the morning.
I wait for her by the back door, and when she finally reaches me, my arms can’t go around her fast enough. Lifting her chin, I graze her lips with mine.
“Thank you for helping me.” She nuzzles her face into my chest.
“Of course.” I rub her back.
It’s a short drive to her house, through the neighborhood across from Patti’s Place. Even in the darkness outside, I see a large tree beside the small, rambler style home. After parking in the driveway behind her silver sedan, I turn to her.
She looks down at her hand in mine, rubbing her thumb over my index, and quietly asks, “Can you come in for a little bit?”
“Thought you’d never ask.” I raise her hand to my lips before getting out of the car.
She leads me up the path to her front door and flips on a tall floor lamp as soon as we enter. I take in the overstuffed mahogany leather couch next to a low, glass-covered coffee table in the living room. Beyond the couch is a round dining room table, big enough for four, with a speckled granite countertop separating it from the kitchen.
“Let me take a quick shower before you tell me I smell like pie again,” she teases, patting my chest and handing me the remote to the TV. I flash a smile and sit on the supple leather couch as she disappears down the hallway. She makes it back to me in under ten minutes with a blue silk scarf wrapped around her hair. Green shorts peek out under the oversized black T-shirt hitting her thighs as she maneuvers around the room. Carrying a bottle to the coffee table, she sits on the couch and spreads the vanilla scented cream over her arms and legs.
“That explains the vanilla…” I say, drumming the hand on my leg, wishing my fingers were the ones traveling across her skin.
“The apples are from my shampoo,” she says, rubbing the last bits of lotion into her hands. She bites her lip and pulls me toward her end of the sofa. Noses touching, I breathe her in before diving to find her lips. They’re soft and warm, greedily wrestling mine in a whirl of resolved anticipation before she pulls back, yawning.
“I’m sorry…” She scrunches her face before yawning again.
“Sweetheart, you’re tired.” I smile down at her before sitting up and grabbing the lotion from the table. “Lie down,” I say, placing her foot in my lap.
“What are you—ahh, mmm.” She moans as I rub the lotion across her sole, making concentric circles with my thumbs. She makes a halfhearted attempt to take her foot back before sinking into my hands again.
“Just relax and let me do this for you,” I say, grabbing her other foot. “Besides, you’ve been running through my mind all day. These things must hurt.”
She lets out a giggle, covering her eyes in the crook of her arm while I work. “How was your meeting this morning?” she asks, relaxation settling into her voice.
“It was good. Dad and Kendall decided I’ll start at the new EdTechU headquarters in San Francisco while it gets up and running. ”
“EdTechU?” She shoots up from the couch, peering at me with wide eyes.
“Yeah… You heard of it?”
“I’m catering for them in August…” she says slowly, eyes narrowing.
I tilt my head slightly, wondering why she looks confused. “I’ve never said I was working for my dad?”
“No, you did, but you never said a company name. So he’s like, one of the higher-ups?”
“More like the highest up. He and Kendall are co-founders. CEO and CTO, respectively. They founded EdTechU during undergrad at CUT?—”
“ CUT ? Like California University of Technology? Like, only super-smart geniuses go there?”
“Yeah… You didn’t know this?”
“How would I know this? Isn’t EdTechU, like, a really big company?” Her eyes widen with every bit of information I confirm for her.
“…Yes…” I hesitate, unsure where she’s going with this.
“I… You’re…” She shakes her head, grabbing her phone. “That’s like, one of the top technology companies…” Her mouth drops open as she looks down at her screen. “It’s worth a ton!”
There it is. The reason for the panic. We stare at each other while she processes the fact that I’m the son of a technology-genius multimillionaire.
“But…you had a job up at Camp Bender…”
“I didn’t, technically. I signed up to be a volunteer at first and didn’t need the paycheck, so I took the position without pay. Claire used the money to offer scholarships to two of the campers.” The way she’s staring, slack-jawed, makes me wonder if I’ve sprouted three heads. I move to cradle her face in my hands, not sure what else to do. “Hey…” I say softly. “I’m still me. I haven’t changed in the last five minutes. My family just has a little more money than most.”
“ A lot more money than most. You’re millionaires! Why didn’t you say anything? I met your family, met your parents , and just treated them like regular people. I gave them mediocre small-town pie!” She leans back against the arm of the couch, folding her arms with a bewildered look in her eyes.
“Three things,” I say, laughing at her quip about the pie. “One: they are just regular people. My parents didn’t grow up with money and like to stay as grounded as possible. Two: that apple pie is better than any expensive dessert I’ve ever tasted, and three: I didn’t say anything because it’s not something I go around advertising.”
She studies me, trying to make sense of everything spoken in the last few minutes. I take her hands in mine, pulling her close enough to wrap my arms around her waist. “Look, my family is wealthy. I use it when I need to—want to, even—but I try not to let it affect me. I don’t talk about it because it’s not the most interesting thing about me.” Her face softens, and I breathe a sigh of relief, sensing we’ve made it past this millionaire sized hurdle.
“You should have told me.”
“You’re right. Surprise,” I tease, squinting an eye as I flash my teeth in a nervous grin. She laughs, and I peck a kiss on her lips.
“So you’re moving to San Francisco? Not back to LA?” she says up through her lashes.
“Yep.”
“That’s only an hour away from SSU,” she whispers.
“Yep,” I smile, moving in for another kiss. Her fingertips trail down the muscle in my jaw as she kisses me back, sweetly at first, and then more urgently, until another yawn breaks us apart. “Come here.” I chuckle, lying back on the couch and bringing her to rest on top of me, head to chest. I play with her fingers, recalling that night at camp when our hands locked together after a thumb war. Being that close to her back then was amazing enough, but this, having her body curled around mine, is something I don’t ever want to end.
“Can I ask you something?” I ask. The words come out cautiously, and I don’t know if I actually want to hear her answer .
She nods against me.
“Up at camp, you said being charming was a bad thing. Why was that a bad thing?”
She breathes a deep sigh before propping herself up to look at me. Her eyebrows dip, and her eyes seem to glaze over as she stares down at my chest. “Because it was.”
She recounts the story of her last boyfriend, his charm, the way he made her feel special, her abandoning her grades to spend time with him only for him to betray her trust in the worst possible way. Her resistance toward all my hints and flirting makes perfect sense now. I reminded her of him.
“I took a trip to see Ashlie for spring break, and when I got home, I found him in my roommate’s bed. With my roommate. Alone together.” She twists her fingers around themselves, voice shaking. “I should have known better. He was always flirting with other girls and then reeling me back in with empty promises whenever I got upset. Not to mention, we just didn’t make sense. He was the wealthy star football player, and my roommate was on the cheer squad. They fit inside each other’s worlds. I very obviously did not.”
“So what did you do?” I try to keep my voice steady, but searing heat fills my chest. My back teeth grind together at the thought of Kayla being mistreated. I’m angry for her. Pissed that someone would do that to her, make her feel less than the beautiful person I know today. Upset that someone would take advantage of the fierce loyalty I’ve seen from her.
She shakes her head as a crease forms between her eyes. “I did nothing. I didn’t stand up for myself. I just walked out and avoided them. I was devastated.”
With a clearing of her throat, her voice comes back strong, confident, the way I’m used to hearing. “I spent the rest of the semester in the library, trying to salvage the nine months of school I’d neglected. With help from my advisor and caring professors, I worked my ass off to get the extra credit I needed, and I made it happen. It was hard as hell, and I promised myself I’d never let a guy get in the way of my future again. So I work and avoid distractions.” She bites her lip, uncertainty shadowing her face as she looks up at me.
“And I was a distraction…” I say, as I piece together every moment we’ve shared up to now. After everything she just told me, I can see how my efforts to get her attention would have pushed her farther away. I reminded her of some asshole who broke her heart and destroyed her confidence in the process.
“Yeah.” Her voice is barely a whisper.
“What changed?” I ask, searching her face for a glimmer of hope for a future with her. Hope that I’ve shown my character enough for her to know I would never treat her that way. But the hope I seek doesn’t come from the look on her face. It comes from the way she lies back on my chest, head to heart, and curls her body into mine.
“You were there for me,” she mumbles, on the edge of consciousness. I wrap my arms around her and hold her tight. In no time, her breathing slows, signaling her transition from awake to fast asleep. Stroking her back, I hear the faintest sigh, and a memory of her smiling in the sunlight is the last thing on my mind before falling asleep myself.