Page 16 of Chasing Chase London: Part 4-Play-Offs

“We’re at Lindsey’s house,” I say, gritting my teeth against the urge to throw something at him. “Are you really hitting on me in your girlfriend’s bed?”

“We can go to my house,” he says, sitting up and leaning forward with his elbow on his knees. When he looks up at me with those eyes, that smile, it knocks the breath out of me. How is it possible to love someone and want to strangle them at the same time?

“Did you and Lindsey break up?”

He scowls at me. “No.”

I cross my arms and glare.

Chase sighs and rakes a hand through his hair. “Look, Lindsey’s… Fragile. Even if she doesn’t show it, her family’s going through a lot right now, and I promised I’d be there for her. She needs me right now, Sky.”

“I know.”

Lindsey’s whole theory about making men think they need her is void when it comes to Chase. He doesn’t think he needs her—he just knows how much she needs him. And the fact that he stays with her for that makes me a little less angry at him, whether or not it’s because he promised his dead mother he would.

“Do you want me to break up with her?” he asks after a second, his blue eyes searching mine.

“No! Of course not. Why would I want that?”

I think he’s going to give a real answer, and my stomach drops. Even if they broke up, I could never be with Chase. I’m working hard to accept that. Even when I’m pissed at him, that knowledge is heartbreaking.

But instead of bringing up one of the moments between us that prove why we’d both want it, he cracks a grin.

“Ah, don’t tease me like that,” he says, reaching for my hand.

I pull away quickly.

“Me? Tease you?” I demand. “You have a girlfriend, and you’re hitting on me while you tell me you’d never break up with her. Even if you said you would, which I don’t want, I know you’d never follow through on it, so what does that make you?”

He stands up and tries to grab me as I turn away, but something inside me snaps as his fingers brush my arm and that infuriating bolt of electricity shoots through me like it does every fucking time.

I jerk away from his touch, turn, and shove him as hard as I can. He falls back on Lindsey’s bed, a grin on his face like he thinks I’m about to wrestle around with him like Lindsey does. His face falls when he sees my expression, but I don’t wait around to hear more lies.

I flee, almost running to get out of there, away from him and her and all of it. Tears press at my eyes, making a hard knot in my throat, but I will myself not to cry. I make it out of the house before the tears overpower my will. The cold dampness of the night clings to me like a dead hand, stinging my face and freezing my tears on my eyelashes. I stumble down the drive, choking on a sob.

I left my coat and all my homework in the rush to get away, but I can’t bear the thought of going back there crying. I’m not even sure what I’m crying about, if it’s the realization that I’ll never be with Chase or the frustration of him always dangling something in front of me that will never be mine; the thought of what he’s doing to Lindsey, or the thought of losing her.

I reach the gate to their neighborhood and glance back over my shoulder, halfway terrified I’ll see one of them coming after me. But when I don’t, my heart falls, and paranoia eats at my nerves. Did he tell her what happened? Is he telling her about everything that’s gone between us all these months, while we tried to resist?

When I turn back and step through the gate, I almost scream. A figure looms over me from the darkness, his eyes glittering from the shadows of his face.

eight

Now Playing:

“Eating on All Fours”—Green Apple Quick Step

Preston’s right in front of me, his hair damp, his bare shoulders glistening in the streetlights overhead. Even in the coldness of the night, a thin sheen of sweat covers his skin from how hard he must have been running.

I could never outrun him.

The thought pops into my head, and I shrink into myself as he looks at me with those predator’s eyes.

“Is the little rat scurrying home?” he taunts.

I start to step back, but his hand shoots out quick as a snake, his fingers wrapping around my throat. I’m so shocked I don’t even try to fight him. He steps forward, his movements quick and fluid, his body hard against mine. His lips twist into a cruel smirk, and he reaches up with his other hand, tracing a tear track down my cheek. His cast rasps against my shoulder, but his gaze follows his finger.

“Did my sister finally put you in your place, little rat?” he asks, his voice a smooth purr. “Is that why you’re on your way back to the gutter? Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

---