Page 21 of Chasing Chase London: Part 4-Play-Offs

“Nothing,” I say quickly.

He rests his hands on the edge of the wall between his hip and my leg, rubbing his pinky finger against my thigh casually. “Must be something,” he says, studying me. “Otherwise you wouldn’t be blushing.”

“I’m not,” I mumble, hardly able to string two words together with his finger teasing me that way. I wonder if he even notices what he’s doing, or if it’s just some unconscious habit, like tapping a foot. Even the touch of his little finger charges me with so much electricity I can hardly stand it.

“Oh, Sky’s just trying to figure out how she can avoid sleeping with Todd,” Daria says casually, like it’s nothing.

I almost choke with shock. I cannot believe she just said that, and to Chase of all people. I have never been so embarrassed in my whole life. My face is so hot it’s a wonder that my skin isn’t peeling.

Chase’s finger stops moving. He throws his head back and laughs like it’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard.

I want to disappear into the ground. Being buried alive would be better than this humiliation.

“Shut up,” I growl, kicking out a foot to hit the side of his thigh.

He sobers up and turns to me. “Just tell him you’re not ready,” he says, his eyes serious for once. “He’s a nice guy. He’ll wait.”

His hand moves over my leg to the inside of my thigh. I try to suppress a shudder, my breath caught in my throat by the tidal wave of heat that rushes through my body from his bold touch.

He gives a gentle squeeze and runs his hand down to my knee, where he lets it rest casually.

I’m frozen, unable to move or breathe.

I. Am. Dying.

“Whoa there, handsy man,” Daria says, giving Chase a warning look. “Not your girlfriend’s leg.”

Chase jerks his hand away, giving me a chagrinned look. “Sorry,” he mutters.

Daria laughs. “Don’t worry, I can keep my mouth shut. But you better watch yourself. Lindsey may be trusting, but she’s not blind. And her family is neither.”

I’m glad the attention is diverted from me momentarily, long enough for me to manage a quick intake of breath.

“Right,” Chase says. “I’ve got to get to practice anyway.” He rakes his hand through his thick, honey hair, leaving it even more tousled.

My bones are molten lava.

I can only manage a little sigh at how gorgeous he looks, and then he’s gone, striding into the gym.

Daria fixes me with a stormy look.

“You’re so sleeping with him.”

“No, I’m not,” I protest. “I swear!”

“You totally are!”

“Seriously, I’m not. I promise.” I hate my blush so fucking much I vow to get my blood surgically drained so it can’t rush to my face and give me away so easily. I couldn’t be more transparent.

Daria huffs. “Methinks the lady doth protest too much.”

“I swear to you I’m not sleeping with him.”

“But you have…?”

“No, I haven’t. Seriously. I’ve never slept with anyone! I swear to you I would never do that to Lindsey.”

She looks at me through lidded eyes. “You’ve never slept with anyone?”

---