39. Chase
Chase
Three days.
That’s how long it’s been since Summer crashed back into my arms and turned my world right side up.
It’s terrifying how natural we’ve fallen back into each other. She wears my T-shirts to bed, leaves her notebook on my kitchen counter, hums melodies while she makes her coffee in the morning.
She’s everywhere. In my space, in my head, in the quiet corners of my life I’d convinced myself were fine being empty.
The beach is quiet this afternoon.
I’ve been in the water for the past two hours, catching waves and letting the salt wash away the workday.
Every time I paddle out, I find myself scanning the shore for her.
She’s exactly where I left her.
Summer’s set up camp on a faded blanket, guitar across her lap, notebook open beside her.
Her hair is twisted over one shoulder—a sight that makes me smile.
She’s wearing another sundress. Those things are going to be the death of me.
This one’s white with tiny little flowers.
It’s riding up her thighs, and I’ve almost wiped out twice because I can’t stop staring.
Even from here, I can see her lips moving, singing along to a melody, testing lyrics and strumming her guitar. Every now and then she pauses, her pen moving in quick bursts as she scribbles, crosses out, then scribbles again.
She’s been writing constantly the past few days, managing to fill nearly a whole notebook.
“I don’t know what it is, but it’s like a dam broke,” she told me last night as she curled against my chest. “I can’t write fast enough.”
I don’t want to jinx anything, but I’m hoping it’s happiness that’s driving her inspiration.
“What changed?” I asked, tilting her head up to place a kiss on the underside of her jaw.
“You know what changed,” she replied.
Yeah, I do. Because it’s the same thing that changed me. The thing that’s given me hope. I know I might not have her forever, but I’m optimistic that maybe this time things will work.
I know she’s not staying here forever—she has other commitments—but surely things have changed, right?
I catch one last wave, then ride it into shore. When I emerge from the water, my board tucked under my arm, Summer looks at me and grins. Her whole face lights up.
“Good work, Whitmore.”
“You weren’t even watching.” I stab my board into the sand, leaning over her to shake out my hair.
She shields her face and squeals. “Ahhh!” Laughter bubbles out of her.
The sound’s so sweet, I never want it to stop.
“Excuse me! I was watching,” she insists, still giggling. “I saw at least … seventy percent.”
I look at her incredulously, and she swats my leg. “Go dry off. You’re dripping all over my masterpiece.”
I snatch my towel from beside her and scrub it over my face and hair. “How’s it coming along?”
“Good.” She sets her guitar aside and stretches her arms overhead, her skirt inching up even higher. This time, I don’t stop myself from looking. “Really good. I think I’ve got the bones for two new songs.”
“Two? Since yesterday?”
“I said bones.” She points at me. “They have a way to go yet.”
She shrugs like it’s nothing, but I don’t miss the sparkle in her eyes.
I crouch beside her and rest my forearms on my knees. “Will you play them for me?”
She dips her chin like she always used to when she was shy. “Maybe.”
I catch her chin between my thumb and forefinger, locking her gaze with mine. “I’d really like to hear them.”
Her cheeks redden. “Okay,” she whispers.
I tuck a loose strand behind her ear. “Thanks, baby.”
She fights another grin.
“Let me just make some room in the back of the truck for my board and I’ll cook dinner back at yours. How’s that sound?” I ask.
She cocks a brow. “You cook now?”
“I’ve always cooked.”
“I think in our entire senior year, you managed to make me one grilled cheese.”
“I’ve evolved.”
Her mouth tips up. “Sounds good.”
I lean in, kissing her softly. “I’ll be back to give you a hand with your things in a second.”
“’Kay.” She returns to her writing as I stand, grab my board, and head toward the parking lot.
That’s when I see her.
Rachel.
She’s leaning against the hood of her Jeep a few spaces down from my truck, her arms crossed loosely over her chest. She’s dressed in her work clothes—dusty boots, faded jeans, her blond hair pulled back underneath a ball cap.
She approaches me as I reach my truck, sliding my board in the tray.
“Hey,” she says.
“Hey.”
Her eyes drift past me toward the beach where Summer is packing up.
“I was on my way back from the trail ride and saw your truck.” She pauses. “I saw you two out there.”
I don’t quite know what to say. I rub the back of my neck.
“She’s the one, isn’t she?” she asks.
I don’t have to explain. Rachel’s smart. Townsfolk talk. She knows about Summer and our history—everyone here does.
“I’m sorry, Rachel,” I tell her. “I didn’t expect …” What? To ever have feelings for you like I did for her? Didn’t expect to fall back in love with her as soon as I laid eyes on her again? “I—”
“Chase, I always knew. I think we both did.” She shrugs a shoulder. “I think I hoped that maybe one day you’d look at me the way you looked at her picture.”
I frown. “What picture?”
Her lips press into a thin line. “The one in your wallet,” she whispers.
Oh. She’s seen that?
I open my mouth to speak, but she beats me to it.
“I get it.” She gives me a sad smile. “She’s really beautiful, Chase … you look happy with her. Like it’s easy.” Her eyes turn glassy. “I haven’t seen you like that before.”
My chest tightens. “Rachel—”
“Let me finish,” she whispers, holding up a hand. “I’d really like to say this.”
I nod, swallowing thickly.
She takes a deep breath. “When we started this thing between us, I told myself it was enough. I’d just broken up with Josh, and I wasn’t ready for anything more.
I thought having a piece of you was better than having nothing at all, that it beat being lonely.
” She laughs softly, shaking her head. “I ended up lying to myself. I think I always hoped that if I was patient enough, you’d eventually let me in. ”
“Why didn’t you ever say anything?”
“I guess I was happy pretending. It felt good to pretend.”
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper.
“You never lied to me, Chase. You never promised me something you couldn’t give. You were always honest about keeping me at arm’s length. I just … got carried away and chose not to listen. I should have ended it as soon as I began developing feelings.”
I take a step forward. “I should have known. I should have—”
She cuts me off gently. “We didn’t owe each other anything. I have no regrets. I think we both found each other when we needed someone to remind us we were worth something. I’m glad I could be that for you, even if it wasn’t … everything.”
Emotion clogs my windpipe. “You’ve always deserved more than I was able to give you.”
“Maybe.” She tilts her head. “But you gave me what you could. You’ve always been kind to me. You’ve always treated me well.”
We’re quiet for a moment. A seagull squawks overhead.
“It’s real with her, isn’t it?” Rachel whispers.
“Yeah.” My voice comes out rough. “It is.”
She nods slowly, like she’s accepting something she already knew. “I can see she lights you up, Chase. I dunno … your whole face has changed. It’s like … like you finally make sense.”
I’m more myself with Summer than I am with anyone. Without her in my life, nothing makes sense, I think to myself.
“She’s lucky,” Rachel continues. “I hope she knows that.”
“I’m the lucky one.”
A deep, rich laugh falls from her lips. “God, you’ve got it bad, huh?”
I can’t help but smile. “I really do.”
“I won’t keep you any longer,” she adds. “But can I give you some advice?”
My brows lift expectantly, waiting.
“Don’t waste another ten years. Hold on to her, Chase. With both hands. And don’t let her go.”
“I won’t.” It comes out like a vow.
Rachel’s attention drifts back to Summer, who’s making her way across the sand toward us, arms full.
“Hey.” Summer’s voice is warm as she approaches.
Rachel adjusts her hat while I take Summer’s guitar case slung over her shoulder and set it in the back seat.
“Sorry,” Summer adds. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“You’re not interrupting.” Rachel grins. “I was just leaving.”
Summer hesitates for a second before her shoulders soften. She extends her hand toward Rachel. “I’m Summer. You must be Rachel. It’s really nice to meet you.”
Rachel takes it and I see the flicker of surprise flash across her face. “It’s great to meet you. I’m actually a big fan.”
My head snaps to her. “What?”
“Oh, thank you,” Summer says, surprised. “You work with the trail horses?”
Rachel blinks, clearly not expecting that. “Yeah. I lead trail rides and run lessons.”
“Wow. That’s great.” Summer’s eyes light up. “I’ve always wanted to learn how to ride, but honestly? I’m too scared of anything bigger than a Labrador.”
“They’re gentle, I promise. Mostly,” Rachel teases.
“See, it’s the mostly that doesn’t sell me on the idea.”
They both chuckle and something inside me unwinds.
“Well, it was lovely meeting you,” Rachel says, spine straightening.
“You, too, Rachel,” Summer replies.
“Take care of him.” She tips her head in my direction before shooting me a final smile. “Bye, Chase.”
I offer a sharp nod and then she turns and walks to her Jeep, her taillights disappearing down the coastal road.
I turn to Summer. “You okay?”
“She’s lovely,” Summer says quietly.
I take Summer’s hand, threading our fingers and tugging her close. I press a kiss to her forehead. “Let’s get out of here.”
The drive back to Summer’s place is peaceful.
I keep stealing glances at her. I can’t help it.
She’s got her bare feet propped on the dash, her head tipped toward the open window, the amber light washing over her face.
She taps her fingers against her thigh. I don’t think she has any idea that she’s humming.
By the time we pull into her driveway, the sunlight is waning, replaced with cool shadows spilling over rooftops as we approach dusk.