Jeremiah
“Alright, thanks. See you next Friday. Alright. Bye.” Chase hangs up his cell phone, placing it gently on the soft cushion between his legs, which are spread out comfortably.
We’ve been working away all evening, confirming details with event staff and the venue. Chase has been handling the calls like a pro while I’ve been busy creating and editing our presentation slides.
It’s clear how much he cares about this business. As much as I hate to admit it, he’s… really good at what he does.
“It’s looking great,” he says, plugging something into his phone. “We’re all set with the caterers. If everything goes as planned, it should go off without a hitch.”
“Great,” I reply, nodding. My mind is still half on the work, but I’m zoning out a little. The day is warm, and I’m thankful Chase suggested we work outside. It’s peaceful out here, sitting on the back balcony. Spread out, lounging, it almost makes working on the weekend bearable.
I take in a slow breath, peering out at the setting sun. Which reminds me—I glance at my watch. “Shit, it’s six p.m.” I sigh, the reality of time slipping by too fast.
“Already?! Damn.” Chase leans back, crossing his arms over his chest, looking more relaxed than I’ve seen him all day.
“Are you hungry? I could cook us something.” Cooking has always been my way to unwind, and the idea of having someone else to cook for feels nice—too nice.
Chase raises a brow, his gaze flicking to me. “Are you offering to cook for me?”
Rolling my shoulders, I stretch out my arms. “Calm down. It’s just dinner. Nothing fancy.”
I’m not sure what’s making me so restless, but the thought of him leaving before he eats sits wrong with me.
He looks at me for a beat, considering, before nodding. “Yeah, okay. I’d like that.”
I stand and gesture for him to follow me inside. As he walks in close behind me, his fingers brush against mine, and neither of us moves away. When we reach the kitchen, I shift away, but the warmth of his hand lingers as I pull ingredients from the fridge and set a pot of water on the stove.
“You ever cook for anyone before?” Chase asks, settling onto a seat at the kitchen island.
My lips twitch despite myself. “Not really, but I’m pretty good—if that’s what you’re wondering,” I answer, starting with preparing the pancetta.
He watches me, curiously. “How do you know you’re pretty good?”
“Because I’m good at the things I enjoy doing.” I take out a cutting board and set it in front of him, handing him a few sprigs of basil and a knife. “Here, chop these into small pieces.”
He takes the knife, following my direction. I turn on some music to fill the space with familiar background noise while the water comes to a boil. I focus on whisking eggs and cheese in a bowl, but it’s hard to ignore him. I steal glimpses of his muscles as they tense and relax as he chops.
In no time at all, I have our dinner hot and ready.
“There you go. Classy, creamy carbonara,” I say, presenting the finished plate in front of him. I set mine across from him and sprinkle a bit of freshly cracked black pepper over both of our plates.
He stares down at his plate, eyes wide in disbelief. “Oh God,” he says, before his mouth closes around a forkful of pasta. His eyes immediately flutter shut, and a loud, satisfied moan escapes him. “Holy fucking shitttt, balls.”
I laugh, surprised by his reaction but enjoying how much he’s clearly enjoying the food. “You’ve got one hell of a dirty mouth.”
Chase tries to stifle his laugh, but the beaming smile on his face says it all. “Yeah, I guess I do.”
I take a bite of my own pasta, savoring the richness. Honestly, it feels good stealing a moment away like this.
I clench my jaw, silently cursing to myself.
“So, Blackwood,” he says, twirling more pasta onto his fork, “You like to travel, you practice jiu-jitsu, and apparently, you’re good at cooking.”
I raise an eyebrow, letting out a quiet tsk. “Just good?”
“Okay, okay, fantastic at cooking,” he corrects, chuckling as he digs in again. “But seriously, where’d all that come from? You’re only a year younger than me.”
“Two years younger than you,” I correct.
His brows raise. “You’re twenty-six?!”
A chuckle slips free as soon as I see the shock all over his face. “I skipped two grades.”
Fuck, he mouths, staring down at his plate as the realization settles in.
“And yet, you’ve done so much…” he mutters, moving some noodles around with his fork.
The answer to his original question isn’t easy. I shift slightly in my seat, watching him as I try to figure out how to put my answer into words.
“As you know, school wasn’t my favorite place…” I begin.
The smile on Chase’s face starts to fade as he tongues the inside of his cheek, obviously uncomfortable.
“You know what? Forget it—”
“No—” Chase reaches out, grabbing onto my forearm. “I want to know. Please, I want to know,” his voice stern and concrete.
My brows furrow as I take in the sincerity on his face.
I shake my head looking down. “I didn’t know who I was and I guess…
my reputation kind of stuck.” My eyes glance at his, but I quickly look back to my food.
“After graduation, I saw it as an opportunity to start over. See more of the world. Do what I want to do, for once.” A smile creeps up as I recall my dad’s face when I told him I was leaving. “Naturally, my dad hated the idea.”
Chase smiles at that, giving me some comfort in sharing more.
“He thought it was me just wasting time and his money but, honestly, I think I needed it to figure out who I wanted to become.”
Chase stops eating for a moment, his fork suspended in mid-air as he processes my words. His expression softens, and he nods. “I get it. You wanted to re-build yourself. Start anew.”
I smile, grateful for his understanding.
He chews thoughtfully, then looks up at me, his gaze steady. “So, who are you? Now, I mean.”
The question hangs in the air between us.
“I think…” I hesitate, then shake my head. “Honestly, I don’t know. I thought travelling would’ve helped me figure that out. And I guess it did, in some ways. But I’m still not entirely sure.”
Chase watches me for a long beat. Then, softly, “Well… for what it’s worth? I like who you are today. I… think I really like who you are today.”
His words hit me harder than I expected. “Thanks,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. “For the record, I’m starting to think I like who you are today too.” Chase’s eyes widen as I bite back a laugh. “I mean, you were such a dick in high school.”
Chase smiles sadly. “Hey.”
I bite my lip, chuckling softly.
A frown pulls at his lips as he crosses his arms on the countertop. “Nah, you’re right.” He sighs, defeated. “Honestly, I think I was just trying so hard to be someone I wasn’t. Trying to keep up with the cool kids.”
“You were the cool kids. You were trying to keep up with yourself.” I shake my head. “Gotta say, I definitely don’t miss the cafeteria garbage in my locker every day.”
“I didn’t tell them to do that,”
I huff out a laugh. “I mean, it’s not like you told them to stop.”
“I hated it—”
“And yet.”
“You don’t get it…I–” He hesitates, the words catching in his throat.
“What?” I urge him to continue.
He licks his lips, sitting up in his seat.
“I—”
His phone rattles violently against the countertop. The sound slices through the quiet space that was just between us. Chase’s eyes shut for a second like he’s willing it to stop.
He flips over his phone. “I need you to know, back in school, I—”
The phone buzzes again.
This time, he flips it back over, taking a glance down at the screen.
Mia.
Chase exhales sharply, jaw tightening as he drags a hand through his hair. “Shit,” he mutters, already standing. “I gotta take this.”
And just like that, whatever he was about to say disappears through the room, out the back patio doors.
I can’t help but feel like we were so close to something I didn’t realize I needed. But, maybe it’s for the best. What could he have possibly said anyway? I pile our empty plates together and rinse them off before stacking them into the dishwasher.
Trying not to listen, I hear only the tail-end of their conversation.
“Shit, no. It’s okay, Mia. I’ll be over there shortly. It’s fine, everything will be okay.” I hear Chase soothe.
He comes inside, sighing. “I hate to do this, but I gotta run. Fuck!” He huffs, running his hand through his hair.
My heart sinks. “What happened? Is Mia okay?”
“Something to do with her and Rachel. I couldn’t really make out the rest but I gotta go see her. She needs me right now and–”
“I’ll drive.” I hear myself saying. Without hesitating, I walk towards my entryway and pick up my car keys from the décor bowl.
“What? No, you don’t have to do that. I can Uber myself there.”
This isn’t just about getting Chase there promptly. I want to be there for them both. She’s such a sweet girl, she deserves all the support.
“Tell me where to drive. Let’s go,” I say, opening the door.
He looks at me shocked but follows me all the same.