Page 73 of Foreplay on Words

Evan

Boston

My internal clock was set to wake me around the same time every morning. Chase was still dead to the world as I glanced at my phone and saw it was 6:00 am. I didn’t want to be completely creepy—lying here and staring at her until she woke up––but my body was restless and I needed to get up.

While pulling clothes out of my bag, I had an idea. Chase’s fridge was bare, stocked only with condiments. I had a feeling it was like that even when she wasn’t at my house.

Pulling up Google, I found the closest market and then looked around for keys to her door, seeing them on a hook inside the hall closet. She lived in a nice building, but I wasn’t leaving her sleeping alone with her front door unlocked.

The weather was nice as I walked to my destination. The air had a crisp bite, but it wasn’t freezing. It was just enough to wake me up. I knew I wouldn’t have time to get in a proper run today with my plans.

The market was bustling; there was a little coffee shop at the back with a line growing by the second. I’d stop there last. I wasn’t sure what kind of coffee maker Chase had.

I could picture myself here, shopping for ingredients to make dinner for her sometime. It seemed that every thought I’d had lately involved her with me.

My anxiety still had the hair on the back of my neck standing at how busy it was, but if it meant I could bring this fantasy to life for her, I was fine with pushing through it. Deep breaths, and don’t make eye contact.

Leaning down to grab a box of pancake mix, I was startled when someone bumped into me from behind, almost throwing me off balance.

“Oh! I’m so sorry!” A slender blonde woman apologized with wide eyes.

“That’s alright,” I assured her, straightening back up.

She tilted her head and looked at me strangely. “Do I know you?”

“I don’t think so,” I shook my head. She looked vaguely familiar, but that didn’t mean I knew her.

“You look really familiar...” she mused as she squinted at me.

She’d probably read my books. I occasionally ran into people who recognized me from the book jacket picture. Most of the time, I politely said hi to them and quickly escaped, but she gave me a look.

“Are you sure I don’t know you?” she asked again, her brows pinched together.

“I have one of those faces.” I gave her a tight smile, picked up my basket, and hurried to the next aisle.

She shook her head and continued her shopping.

We ended up in front of the eggs together at the same time, and she was clearly still trying to figure out who I was by sneaking glances at the side of my face. She was making me super nervous.

Thankfully, her phone rang, distracting her.

“Yes, I’m getting the eggs. I know. I’ll be back soon.”

I could hear a male voice coming from her phone, and then she laughed loudly. “Yes, I met with her yesterday. She’s in the city for a week or so. I don’t know what she did to your boy.”

“Oh, come on, Adrian,” she scoffed, and I looked at her wide-eyed. “It’s not my job to babysit my writers or yours.”

Fuck. This must be Isobel. Chase never told me she lived so close to her editor. I needed to get out of here fast.

“I’m sure he just needs to recharge,” she responded to further mutterings from her phone. “He’s been through a lot in the last few weeks, and I know Chase is hard for most people to swallow, much less someone who doesn’t interact with others much.”

I begged to differ. Chase was very easy to swallow and tasted fucking fantastic.

“You seriously need to lighten up,” she continued, and I tried to pull my thoughts out of the gutter.

He was talking again, and I saw her cheeks start to flush.

“Oh, stop it. I’ll be back soon, and then we can continue where we left off last night.”

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