Chapter 37 #2
Chase smiles at me for a second, and in spite of the cold, my heart melts a little. Because that smile is a potent thing. Then he lifts the edge of the comforter up and pats the spot on the sofa beside him in a clear invitation.
Since my ass is already a Popsicle, I quickly shift over there and sit beside him. And he lowers the comforter over the two of us. Now we’re hip to hip, and I breathe in the same scent that was once my whole world—spicy cologne and fabric softener and just plain Chase.
A silence descends over us like the comforter has, and it isn’t uncomfortable.
I gaze up at the sky, which has the typical New York City glow.
“Back then? I panicked, Chase. When my mother questioned me, she had a cop with her. They were trying to trace the drugs that Joon-ho had taken, and my mom was ranting about how the whole thing would end her career.”
“The cops searched me,” he says dully. “They searched my room and my truck. I heard a cop talking about her interview with you. She said, ‘Figure out if Chase gave something to Ethan. Zoe might have seen something.’”
My heart stops. “But you didn’t give Joon-ho the stimulants! That was Melanie.” We eventually learned that she’d been selling her Adderall to other campers, and Joon-ho took too much.
“We all know that now,” he says in a low voice. “But they treated me like a criminal, and I felt like you caused it. Joon-ho refused to give up Melanie’s name until he heard they were accusing me. And then your uncle…” He sighs.
“My uncle what? Just tell me. It must have been bad.”
He finds my hand beneath the comforter and squeezes it. I have to close my eyes, because I’ve missed him so much. And here we are, sitting on a rooftop together. The way we used to.
“First tell me this,” he says quietly. “Why is the internet obsessed with the idea that I can figure skate with you?”
“Can you, though?”
He chuckles, low in his chest. “Yeah. We’ll figure it out. But answer the question—why did that old video break the internet?”
“Because you’re a hockey player? And hockey players can’t do pretty spins.”
“Any of them could,” he argues. “After a five-minute lesson with you. But they don’t do spins. They’re not supposed to.”
“Yeah, okay. Hockey players don’t twirl and jump. They knock people over instead.”
“Exactly,” Chase agrees. “A hockey player just toughs it out, all the time, no matter what. He can’t have feelings. He can’t show emotion, unless it’s anger or gloating. And if he breaks down, he’s worthless.”
“Whereas figure skaters are delicate, emotional creatures who need to be supervised. I think I might have bought into this myth more than I like to admit.”
“So did I,” he says quietly. “Because after our summer together? I broke, Zoe. And your uncle couldn’t stand it. In the first place he was furious at me for having any kind of relationship with you. And when I got depressed afterward, he made my life a living hell.”
“Oh shit. How?”
He thinks a moment before he speaks. “Before I ever met you, he’d said, ‘Never lay a hand on my niece.’ But then I did…”
“Totally my choice,” I point out.
“That didn’t matter to him. He was old school, I guess, and taking you to a tent in the woods for one night was a betrayal. So he turned on me. Berated me at every opportunity. Told me I was a shitty player who’d never get anywhere…”
“What?” I gasp. “That’s not even credible.”
“It was to me,” Chase says quietly. “My game fell apart under the pressure, and then everything he said became true. My grades also suffered, and I lost my scholarship.”
“Oh God. I’m sorry.”
He interlaces his fingers with mine. “That’s the real reason I never called you again.
My life was really messy for a while. I was really messy.
And I did some heavy drinking, like my father, which made me feel like a loser.
Ended up living in my truck for a month or so until I reconnected with a hockey scout who’d always liked me.
He gave me a job at his family’s restaurant and helped me get some tryouts with junior teams.”
He slept in his car? “I never knew any of that,” I whisper. “I have the chills just hearing it.”
He turns toward me and puts his free hand on my cheek. “You don’t have chills, Zoe. You’re just cold. It’s February.”
“I’m fine,” I insist. “I needed to hear this. And I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not on you,” he says. “None of it is. I conveniently forgot this whole time how much of a stranglehold your mother had on your life. I should have trusted that you weren’t trying to shove me under the bus.”
“I wasn’t,” I insist. “I tried to fall on my own sword. I told everyone who would listen that spending the night off campus was all my idea and that I wore you down. And I’m sorry I lost my cool and mumbled something about Ethan. I was trying to explain you’d never hurt a camper.”
He actually snorts. “Want to know what was in that bag that I gave Ethan?”
“Well, yeah.”
He massages my palm with his thumb. “It was condoms and lube. That’s what I gave Ethan and Joon-ho. To use on each other.”
“Oh lord,” I gasp. “That never occurred to me.”
He starts to chuckle. “I realize that now. You were such a sheltered kid.”
“You were my first real kiss, did you know that?”
“Seriously?” He turns to give me a startled look. “I’ve been so angry at you. But we were just a couple of kids doing our best.”
My eyes get hot. “What I wouldn’t give to change that day.” I put my free hand on his chest. “You were everything to me. You believed in me, and there wasn’t an hour I spent with you that wasn’t magic.”
He takes my free hand and kisses it. “You’re freezing, Zoe. Let’s get you inside. Come on.” He tosses the comforter off. “It’s late.”
“And you have a game tomorrow!” I remember suddenly. “I should go home.”
“It’s too late to walk you home.” He yawns.
“You don’t have to. I’ll… take an Uber.”
He gives me an arch look. “It’s too late to put you in a car with strangers, in your jammies. You’ll stay here.”
My heart does a triple axel. Or, well, not my heart. But other body parts that also get excited about Chase.
“I’ll be a perfect gentleman,” he says. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”
Ah, well. I follow him inside anyway.