Chapter 25
After being up most of the night into the wee hours of the morning exploring each other’s bodies, I’m surprised when I step into Chase’s living room on Saturday morning and see him in the kitchen with a mound of food on the kitchen counter.
“Morning, Princess,” he says without looking up from where he’s chopping vegetables.
“You already told me good morning.” He woke me up with his head between my legs a couple hours ago before flipping me over and pounding me into the mattress. I fell back asleep not long after and am only now feeling like I can tackle the day.
He looks up at me with a predatory smirk, looking sinful as ever in gray sweatpants and no shirt. “I know.”
Crossing the room, I place a soft kiss to his bare shoulder and ask, “What is going on in here?”
He turns so he’s leaning against the counter and pulls me into his chest with his hands on my lower back. “Thought it might be nice for us to have a date.”
“A date?” My hands roam over his biceps until they’re looped behind his neck. “What would we do on this date?” Smiling up at him, I hope I’m maintaining my composure because inside I’m kicking my feet at my crush wanting to take me on a date.
“Well, since you won’t let me take you out on the town and show you off, I thought we could have our date here.”
“Aren’t you just Mr. Romantic?” I kiss the corner of his mouth.
“For you.” Closing the distance, he feverishly claims my lips until a knock at the door interrupts what was sure to be another round of mind-blowing sex. It keeps getting better and better every time.
“Why don’t you go answer that while I, uh—” he motions to his bulge in the sweats, making me wish I didn’t have to answer the door, but I leave the kitchen anyway.
“Delivery for Bree?” the doorman from downstairs asks when I answer the door.
“Yes, thank you.” I smile and take the massive bouquet of red roses from them and kick the door closed behind me.
“Chase... what did you do?”
“How do you know it was me?” He takes the heavy glass vase from me when I round the corner and sets it in the center of the island.
Normally, I have fresh flowers in my house, but we’ve barely come up for air the past few days, so I haven’t replaced the dead ones from last week yet.
I’m reveling in every minute we have together before he leaves tomorrow night for another away series. Real life can wait a few more days.
“You’re the only one who calls me Bree, no one sends me flowers, and this is your house.”
“I like that.” He hums approvingly, kissing the crook of my shoulder.
“So, the flowers, a date, and roses. You’re being very romantic.” The red petals in full bloom are vibrant against the white countertop. It’s an impressive arrangement that likely cost a pretty penny.
“Am I? I just noticed you had them in your house before so thought they might be your favorite.” He pecks my lips, downplaying his sweet gesture.
“You remembered that?” He’s been to my house a total of one time and that was a month ago.
“I remember everything about you.” He reaches around me and plucks the card out from the middle of the bouquet and passes it to me. “You should read the card.”
“Or you could just tell me.” I laugh, but take the card from him. Sliding open the thick card stock envelope, I pull out the embossed card and read it aloud.
“Congratulations, you deserve it. Proud of you, Princess.”
“Heard you got a promotion,” he says when I glance up at him.
“How did you hear?” I freeze, sensing a deeper conversation about to happen.
“Miller told me.” He drops his hands on either side of me, caging me in. “The question is, why didn’t you?” Though he speaks calmly and doesn’t appear angry, I can’t help but feel like I’ve upset him. Dropping my head, I quietly apologize.
“Hey, look at me.” He lifts my chin with one finger until I meet his eyes.
“I’m not mad. More curious why you didn’t say anything while we’ve spent the last few days together when I haven’t been at the stadium or community service.
” The last couple of days have been amazing.
We’ve hung out together, talked, laughed, watched movies, had marathon sex, making up for lost time while tangled in sheets.
“This is just new for me, you know? I didn’t want to spoil what little time we have together talking about work.”
“It’s new for me too, but work is important to you. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t share it with me.” After freaking out on him during our first time being intimate again, I didn’t want to mention the black cloud hanging over our head and ruin it while we were having fun.
“It’s only temporary anyways, so it’s not a big deal.”
“It is a big deal. You’ve earned this chance. Mark was an asshole who shouldn’t have been in charge to begin with. From what I’ve heard, you’ve been running the department for a long time now. It’s only right you get the promotion permanently.”
“And what do you think they’ll say when they find out the first thing I did after getting the interim spot was jump into bed with the rookie?” I snap.
He steps back like I slapped him, and I may as well have with how harshly I spoke.
“Listen, I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair. I meant we’re blurring the lines so much I can hardly see the line right now.”
“Do you want to stop this?” He motions between us with his fingers.
“No,” I loop my arms around his neck and close the distance between us. “That’s not what I’m saying either. I like this. I just didn’t want to bring work into this because it’s hard for me to think about how we can have this, and I can have that. Does that make sense?”
“I just want to be here for you, Bree.” He tucks a stray hair behind my ear and frames my face with his palm.
“In all the ways. I can’t do that if you don’t let me in.
” He kisses me and I latch onto him, pouring everything into the kiss and basking in the feel of him against me, hoping I can keep this feeling long after he’s gone.
This is why I suck at relationships. Even my friendships suffer because I don’t do the emotions and all the things well.
I don’t have an example of a healthy relationship.
The give and take required to make a partnership work.
My best example is Ivory and Preston, and their situation isn’t even remotely comparable to what I’m dealing with.
I also can’t talk to her about it without bringing more people into our secret. It’s complicated enough.
“I’ll try to be more open,” I agree and try to pull away, but he keeps me in his embrace.
"That’s all I ask.” Running his hands under my shirt, teasing along the curve of my hip, he continues, “Now, as much as I love you in nothing but my T-shirt, why don’t you go shower and get dressed while I finish prepping lunch and then we can have our date?”
“You still want to have a date?” I’ve fucked this conversation up so badly I wouldn’t be surprised if he canceled our date, asked me to leave, and never spoke to me again.
“Of course I do. We had a conversation, Bree. You expressed your feelings, and I expressed mine. We came to a solution to satisfy both of us, and now I’m going to cook you lunch and we’re going to move on with our day.
I only have one more day with you before I’m gone again and don’t want to waste a second of it.
” He kisses me again before releasing me from against the counter.
Looking over my shoulder at him as I pass by, I purse my lips and harrumph, “You’d think I was the younger one in this relationship after that spiel.”
“What can I say? I’m mature for my age.” He swats me on my ass and pushes me toward the bedroom.
Taking my time in the shower and getting ready, I try to shake off the awkwardness of our conversation.
I don’t want to overthink it and make things worse, which I’m known to do. Hello anxiety, my old friend.
I should’ve known that wouldn’t have been an issue when I walk out of the bedroom again and find Chase plating our lunch on the dining table with a perfect view of downtown Nashville and the Cumberland River.
He smiles up at me like I’m his favorite person in the world and a little of my unease settles.
He’s changed into jeans and a black T-shirt, though his feet remain bare against the hardwood floor.
“You look beautiful.” I’m wearing white linen shorts and a dressy pink shirt tucked into the waistband, but I may as well be wearing an evening gown with how he makes me feel as he takes my hand, pulls me to him, and starts swaying to the beat of the song playing over the Bluetooth speaker in the corner.
Dancing in the kitchen and a bouquet of flowers? A girl could get used to this.
When the song ends, he guides me to one of the chairs at the table. “I hope you’re hungry.”
“This looks amazing.” Before me on the table is a garden salad, baked potato, and a steak that has my mouth watering.
“Where did you learn to cook?”
“You don’t have to sound so surprised.” He chuckles.
“Sorry, I just assumed you had a private chef or something like the other athletes do.” It’s easier for athletes to have someone else worry about the planning and preparation of their meals since they’re on strict nutrition regimens due to the nature of playing at the highest level.
The body needs fuel to perform, and they have too many other things to worry about than the logistics of grocery shopping and meal prep.
“I do have someone who prepares my meals, but I still enjoy cooking when I have the time. I couldn’t exactly plan a date for my lady and not cook for her.
” The wink he sends me while he cuts into his steak has me blushing.
He could’ve hired someone to cook for us, or he could’ve ordered delivery, but no, not Chase.
From the roses to setting the table, to prepping and cooking, he took the time to do it all himself.
“Thank you.” Reaching across the table, I take his hand in mine. His thumb lightly grazes over my knuckles as we dig into our meals.
“I had to fend for myself a lot,” he says after a few minutes. “You asked where I learned to cook. I helped my parents growing up and was on my own because they worked a lot so I could play baseball. It started as more a necessity. I’m no chef, but I know a few basic recipes.”
“That must’ve been hard.” I picture a young Chase making himself macaroni and cheese after practice because his mom was at work. It hurts my heart a little.
“They made sacrifices so I could do what I love. It was the least I could do, ya know?”
“I bet they’re so excited for you to be playing for the Troubadours.” They weren’t at his first game, which is odd for a player who’s been called up, but I can’t imagine a family who poured everything into their child’s dream missing such a monumental achievement.
“Excited isn’t a strong enough word. It was too short notice for them to come out for my debut, but they made it to the game in Chicago.”
“I’m glad they were able to come out. Are they making a trip to Nashville soon?”
“You trying to meet the parents?” My deer in headlights expression sends him into a fit of laughter. “Don’t worry, Princess. You’re safe.” He winks at me again and I can’t help but roll my eyes at him.
We settle into small talk for the rest of lunch, and then I help him clean the kitchen before it’s time for him to leave for the stadium. When we get to the parking garage under his building, he pushes me back against my car and peppers kisses up my neck.
“Are you staying tonight?”
Kissing along his jaw, I lean up on my tiptoes and speak directly into his mouth. “Your place or mine? We have one more night together before you leave, so you bet we’re spending it together.”
“Don’t you just love a man in baseball pants?” Taylor shouts from beside me in our usual seats behind home plate.
“I sure do love my man in baseball pants.” Ivory gives a finger wave to Preston in the batter’s circle. How that man keeps eyes on her and the game at the same time, I’ll never know.
When I look past him, I see Chase talking to Miller in the dugout, but he’s looking directly at me and my heart skips a beat from his attention.
“Now batting, number ten, Preston Fields,” the announcer calls as Preston steps into the box.
It’s a tied game in the bottom of the eighth inning.
Atlanta has played the Troubadours hard this series and we’re all ready for it to end with this Sunday matinee.
The only downside is the team leaves after the game for a six-day away stretch.
“How are things in the office now that Dickardo and Douche are gone?” Taylor asks, breaking me out of my spiraling thoughts.
“HA,” Ivory cackles. “Those are the best names ever. Good riddance if you ask me.” She raises her beer in a salute and we drink together.
“Hard to tell honestly. I’m still trying to dig myself out of the mess he left, plus deal with the disciplinary board for Chase and the weekly status meetings with the District Attorney.”
“His charity idea is great,” Taylor says, confirming what I already know. When Chase called a last-minute meeting Friday to go over his idea for a massive pet adoption event hosted at the stadium, I was blown away by the thought he put into it.
“Preston is excited about it too. You know he loves an excuse to volunteer.” Ivory claps and yells when Preston gets a hit in the gap between third and short.
“It’s nice of them to adopt Chase into the fold.” Seeing Chase get along so well with Miller and Preston makes me happy. If things were different and we could go public, knowing he got along with my friends would be important so we could all spend time together.
“Are you kidding? They love him. It’s only a matter of time before they invite him to the house for one of our cookouts.” Ivory smiles wide at the idea of hosting. “I’m honestly surprised it hasn’t happened yet. I should plan something the next time they’re home.”
“They’re off on the twenty-fourth. We should do lunch,” Taylor says without taking her eyes off the field.
“You would think you live here at the rate you’re in town.” I eye her suspiciously. “And where are you even staying? Because it’s not my guest room.”
“It’s not?” Ivory asks, looking between us. “It’s not mine either. Where are you staying?”
"Grant had the team put me up in a corporate apartment since I’ll be at Bark in the Park.”
“He did, did he?” I eye her skeptically.
When Ivory looks back at the field where Miller is stepping into the batter’s box, Taylor makes a slashing motion across her throat at me.
Whatever she’s hiding, I’ll get it out of her one of these days. Today isn’t that day, though, because Miller hits a home run and the Troubadours are now leading by two runs.
The rest of the game passes quickly and as we greet Preston and Miller on the field to congratulate them on the winning runs, Chase looks back at me over his shoulder on his way to the dugout, blows a kiss, and sends me a wink.
It’s not the goodbye I want, but it’s the only one I can get.