Chapter 33
thirty-three
Two gorgeous girls stand before us as they set their drinks on the table. One with sleek, long, brunette hair that, I’m assuming, she tried to fade into a blonde, but because she’s starting from a level five, it ended up pulling more of an orange tone. She still manages to pull it off. The other girl has red curls styled to perfection, and I wonder if it’s her natural color.
Chase leans back in his seat but keeps his arm on the back of my chair. “Candace, I’d like you to meet Chloe.” He gestures to the redhead. “And Brittany,” he says, gesturing respectively to the brunette.
I try to match them up to the many girls who tagged him online, but it’s been so long since I looked at those pictures. I have no idea if these are some of the women he’s spent time with.
The girl with auburn hair assesses me. “So, you’re the one who’s been keeping him from us,” she says with a hint of sarcasm.
Darting my eyes to Chase, I lean in a little closer. “I guess I am,” I say with a smile. “I didn’t realize I was keeping him from anything.” My hand finds Chase’s leg under the table, and I take another sip of my drink.
“You’re not,” Chase says simply. “They’re just upset because I won’t drive their boat around anymore.”
Thinking back to his social media, I vaguely remember seeing him tagged in photos on a boat. He looked good sun-kissed and windblown, and part of me is a little jealous these girls got to see that side of him. By the time summer rolls around next year, who knows if we’ll still be . . . whatever we are.
“Has the big boss lady met her yet?” Brittany asks Chase like I’m not sitting here.
“Nope,” Chase says happily. “We haven’t had the pleasure of running into her.”
Brittany scoffs before finally turning her attention to me. “She’s going to hate you.” I arch an eyebrow, and her eyes go wide. “It’s not you. She would hate anyone Chase is dating.”
“Good to know,” I say with a laugh. They’re not telling me anything new. His boss is the reason I’m here, but these girls don’t know that.
Chase’s fingers trace the nape of my neck. “If she has an issue, I’ll deal with it.” He gives me the easy smile I love so much before saying, “Come on, let’s go for a walk.” Standing from the table, he holds out a hand for me to take before looking at the girls. “Ladies, if you’ll excuse us.”
Trying to contain my obvious relief, I say a quick goodbye and take his hand so he can lead me through the crowd. He heads straight toward one of the many double doors, nodding to the occasional person but never stopping. Pausing before opening the door, he looks up at the mistletoe overhead and breathes out the word, “Perfect,” before covering my mouth with his. He kisses me through the doorway, and once we’re on the balcony, he doesn’t stop kissing me. He spins us around, pressing me up against the small sliver of wall between sets of doors so no one inside can see us. His hand on my back holds me flush against him while his free hand is braced against the wall by my head.
“Chase,” I breathe when he moves to my neck, his lips trailing down to my collarbone. When his mouth lands on my cleavage, I inhale a sharp breath. “You’re going to mess me up, and the party hasn’t even started.”
He stands up straight and leans his forehead against mine. “Maybe messing you up is the party I’d rather be at.”
As we catch our breath, I can’t help studying him in the glow of the coach light a few feet away. There’s a hunger behind his eyes, but also a hint of desperation I’ve never seen in him—not in this way, at least. “You don’t like being here, do you?”
“Not at all.”
Playfully, I whisper, “Then why are we here?”
The corner of his mouth quirks. “Because I never show my face with them, and this is the one function I feel like I have to go to. They all get drinks on Tuesdays, and I blow them off every week. I stay and work late.” I open my mouth to ask about the extra workload he mentioned before, but he cuts me off. “Partly because I have to, but even if I didn’t, I wouldn’t want to go.”
“But Chloe and Brittany’s boat?”
Chase’s smile broadens. “You’re not the reason I stopped hanging out with everyone from the office. I only hung out with them for a few months after my breakup. I was fucking depressed, and at the time, I felt like my options were to take them up on their invites or sit around in my apartment all day. I always offered to drive so I wouldn’t have to talk to anyone.”
“It must have been a bad breakup,” I say quietly.
He rubs his hand over the back of his neck. “It was nothing special. We were together for three years when I found out she was cheating on me. She said it was because I worked too much, which maybe there was truth to that. I don’t know.”
“Even if you did work too much, that’s no excuse to cheat on someone. I’m sorry.”
He blinks, the clarity coming back to his eyes. “Don’t be. I’m glad it didn’t work out.”
I’ve never seen him like this, and I think I’ve been wrong about him. This missing puzzle piece somehow changes the whole picture. He was committed, then he was hurt, and then he tried to distract himself from that hurt. Nothing about that makes him a fuckboy.
I don’t know what comes over me, but I kiss him. I kiss him, and for the first time since meeting him, I let my emotions slip into it. I let myself feel everything. All the hope, fear, and straight adrenaline that comes with falling for someone new.
When we pull apart, Chase lets out a slow whistle. “Damn, Candace. If I had known you’d kiss me like that, I would have told you my sob story a long time ago.”
A light laugh leaves my lips, and I trail my finger down his torso until I gently hook it into the front of his belt. “Tell me all your secrets, Chase. There’s no telling what I might do.”
He blinks, his wide eyes dropping to my finger before jumping up to meet my stare. God, he’s beautiful. I’d pay money to see this turned-on look of surprise on his face every day.
“When I was fourteen, my girlfriend dumped me in front of my friends in the cafeteria.”
Placing my hand on his chest, I gently push him away from me with a laugh.
I walk toward the door, and he adds, “In college, my shorts somehow ripped, and I had no idea until my roommate pointed it out to me that night.”
I reach for the door handle. “Are you coming? ”
“My ass was out all day!” he says as he starts after me. “I flirted with girls!”
I look over my shoulder at him. “Something tells me you still made quite the impression.”
He grips the side of the door as he follows me back into the party. “Of course I did. But that’s not the point.”
I shake my head. “So humble.”
“You want to see me humble?” His hand wraps around my wrist and he pulls me to him. We’re standing under the mistletoe again, and I can’t help looking up at it before I meet his gaze. “The fact that you’re here with me humbles me. The fact that you let me touch you, kiss you, and act like you’re mine at all, humbles me.” He hooks his finger under my chin, and I forget how to breathe. “ You humble me.”
“This is you humble?”
He grins. “Believe it or not, yes.” He gently weighs his head from side to side. “Humble and a little determined.”
“Determined?”
“Yes.”
My lips twist. “Determined to do what exactly?”
A dangerous smirk pulls at the corner of his mouth. “To make sure you have a great time tonight.”
I smile. “I am having a great time.”
“Good.” He kisses my forehead. “Because it’s just getting started.”