30. Chase
THIRTY
CHASE
The second I’m in my new place, Marissa surprises me with a weekend visit.
I should be thrilled the woman I’m in a relationship with is here, and I swear to God I try to be the type of boyfriend she deserves, the kind that wants her around and isn’t spending all of his time thinking of another woman, but I’m failing miserably.
“I’m so excited to see where you grew up,” she says, making herself comfortable on my couch.
“Mmm.” I sit next to her, but I’m distracted.
“What’s wrong? Are you upset that I came?”
Blowing out a breath, I lean back and run my hand through my hair.
Her eyes track the movement. “What is it?”
“Nothing,” I reply, my tone defensive.
She points to my hand that’s still tugging on the roots. “That’s your tell. You always mess with your hair when you’re nervous or stressed.”
My palm drops to my side, and I stare at her silently for a few moments, surprised she knows that about me.
But why wouldn’t she? I tilt my head and blink at her, trying to figure out if there’s anything about her that I know. Small things like that, things that seem inconsequential but make us who we are at the core.
I come up blank.
“Not upset.”
She frowns. “Are you mad that I’m here?”
Shaking my head, I reach out and grip her hand. “Not mad, just… I wish you would have called first.”
“I thought it would be a nice surprise,” she says, her face dropping. “You’ve been tense whenever we’ve talked on the phone, you know? Thought you might need some relief .”
Grinning, she takes her hand from mine and slides it down my abdomen until she’s palming my lap.
I’ve been half-hard all week from thoughts of Goldi, so it doesn’t take long for my body to react, my cock stiffening under her touch, and I wish I was the kind of guy I was back in high school. The kind that could shove all my emotions into a small, square box and move on autopilot, not caring how shitty of a person it made me, but I’m not that person anymore, and Marissa touching me right now makes me physically sick to my stomach.
I push her hand off, and she scoffs, crossing her arms.
I haven’t really been stressed like Marissa thinks, just distracted, mainly with thoughts of Goldi. How she’s dealing with her father. How badly I want to take away the sadness from her soul, even though I know it’s not my place anymore.
She has Becca.
Jax.
Envy slithers up my spine and squeezes like a constrictor when I think of them together.
He was always half in love with her, and I’m sure over the years, the feelings have only grown stronger.
It doesn’t matter , I tell myself.
“Are we…okay?” Marissa’s voice cuts through my thoughts.
She sniffles, and once again, I feel like a complete asshole.
Another flash of Goldi with Jax flows through my mind, and then the memory of her wanting absolutely nothing to do with me, both at her mom’s funeral and at almost every encounter we’ve had since I’ve been back.
Regret and longing fill up my chest, but they’re blanketed by a type of acceptance. One that might be coming years too late, but I guess better late than never.
I focus my attention back on my actual girlfriend, the woman who does want me. One who I haven’t fucked up beyond repair yet.
She’s here. She’s trying. And with her there’s an actual chance of a future, so maybe it’s time I accept reality and really give it a shot.
Reaching out, I run my hand up Marissa’s arm and over her collarbone until I’m cupping the nape of her neck, tangling my fingers in her hair. I drag her toward me, resting my forehead against hers, and press a kiss to her lips. A chaste one. Just to see.
It’s nice. But my heart stays steady and my brain is calm.
Maybe that’s for the best.
“Yeah, we’re okay,” I murmur, pressing my mouth to hers again.
She grins against me and moves quickly, sliding into my lap and shoving her tongue down my throat, and I accept it all with a certain type of numbness.
Guess that high school kid isn’t too far gone, after all.
All my pent-up energy goes into fucking Marissa. But afterward, I feel dirty. Like I cheated on Goldi , which is truly an extra level of some fucked-up shit.
Marissa’s lazing in bed next to me, still naked, and when she sees me watching her, she rolls toward me, throwing her leg over my hip, her fingers playing with the dusting of hair on my chest. “Mmm… I could get used to this. Being here, I mean.”
I absentmindedly rub her back as I ponder whether this is something I could get used to. Could I see myself with her here? It’s not unpleasant, having her warm my bed. There are worse things to come home to.
My phone vibrates on the end table and Marissa jerks her head up from where it’s resting on my chest to look at the screen. It’s a random number she wouldn’t recognize, but I sure as hell do.
I’m grabbing it to answer before I even recognize that my heart’s picked up speed.
“Goldi,” I say as I move Marissa off me and sit against the headboard.
I’m not sure what’s going on, but I doubt she’d call me unless it was an emergency, as much as I hate to admit it.
She says she needs me and I’m out of bed in seconds, holding the phone between my ear and shoulder as I throw on my clothes.
“What are you doing?” Marissa asks, leaning on her elbows.
I hold up my finger so she knows I’ll answer her in a second. I’m sure she’s wondering who’s on the phone, but my mind is only worried about Goldi. Complete tunnel vision. I repeatedly fucked up when she needed me before, no chance in hell I’m going to let that happen again.
She rattles off her address, which isn’t far from me, and then I’m hanging up the phone and grabbing a jacket from my closet.
Hands creep around my waist after I get it on, and my stomach drops.
“Are you going somewhere?” she asks, her fingers rubbing small circles on my abs.
“Yeah.” I clear my throat. “A friend needs some help. Car trouble.”
She gives me an incredulous look. “At 10 p.m.?”
Sighing, I turn around and lift a brow. “You think cars normally fuck up during business hours?”
She steps back, giving me an odd look before picking her dress up from the floor. “Well, hold on a second. I’ll come with you.”
Panic chokes me, and I walk to her and rest my hand over hers, stopping her from getting ready. “No, no. You hang out here. I’m not sure how long this will take.”
Her dress hangs limply in her hand and she frowns. “Are you sure?”
Fuck yes , I’m sure. Having the woman who wants my heart around the reason she’ll never get it? Hard pass.
Marissa’s eyes narrow. “Who’s the friend, someone from work?”
“Oh. No, it’s…” I debate how to handle this situation. Why is it even a question? I’m not doing anything wrong, and I have no reason to lie. “It’s a friend from when I used to live here. Alina.”
“Alina. That’s a pretty name.” She slinks over to me, running her hand down the front of her naked body. “Doesn’t she have someone else she can call? Another friend, a boyfriend of her own?”
I shrug, but her words invade my brain. Does she have a boyfriend? God, I’m fucking pathetic. “I don’t know, but I won’t ignore her when she needs me.”
Marissa’s fingers ghost over her nipples and tweak them. “ I need you.”
I grit my teeth. “Marissa…I can’t right now.”
She huffs, dropping her hands to her sides. “Fine. I’ll just be here, waiting for you to get back, I guess.”
I feel like an asshole, but not enough to make me stay.
“How long will you be gone?” she prods.
“However long it takes, I guess. I’ll leave some money on the coffee table so you can order some food. I don’t have much here yet.”
“Okay.” She goes up on her toes and leaves a lingering kiss on my lips.
I let her because I don’t know what else to do.