Page 58 of Alpha Chase

Yes.

I blow out a breath, pushing dirty thoughts out of my mind and trying to stay on track. “Well, you’re home, so I’m just gonna…” I throw my thumb over my shoulder, indicating the door behind me.

His face falls, and he doesn’t even try to mask the disappointment in his eyes as he sinks down on the edge of the bed dejectedly. “Stay.”

Ugh. That word. Those eyes. Once again, sympathy for the devil.

“I shouldn’t…” but he’s already got me. He knows it when I step toward him, his lips twitching into a lopsided smile. “I get that you’re hurting,” I say, slowly walking in his direction, closing the distance between us. “But throwing a tantrum and running away to get fucked up isn’t the way to handle it.”

Chase’s smile drops. “How would you know?” he snaps, burying a hand in his hair and tugging at the strands. “You don’t know what I’ve been through. My dad died. My fuckingdad.”

I stop in front of him, folding my arms and staring down into his stormy eyes. “So did mine, and you don’t see me pissing my life away over it.”

His brows lift in surprise as his jaw goes slack. “What? When?”

“When I was twelve.”

“Shit.” Chase reaches out for me, pulling me in to stand between his spread legs. “I didn’t know.”

I gaze down at his stupidly handsome face, pushing his hair back off his forehead. “You never asked.”

Heaving a sigh, he tugs me in closer and buries his face in my chest. His arms wind tightly around my waist and he goes still, the room silent for a few moments save for the sound of our breathing and the rapid beating of our hearts, thumping against one another in unison.

“Does the pain ever go away?” Chase rasps, his words muffled against my jacket.

My heart constricts, aching for this boy that I suddenly feel so connected to in grief. I wish I could lie, tell him that he’ll wake up one day and everything will be okay again, but that won’t do him any favors. Six years later, I’m still grieving my own dad. There are times when the pain of losing him feels excruciatingly fresh, like ripping open a scab that has to heal all over again.

I sink my fingers into Chase’s hair and gently drag my fingernails against his scalp. “No, not completely. But it gets easier to live with.”

He sighs, his breath penetrating the fabric of my jacket and warming my skin. “You’ve got me all fucked up,” Chase groans, his voice pained. He suddenly releases my waist, flopping backwards on his bed and throwing an arm over his face. “I don’t want tofeel.”

I hate the way my body practically aches from the loss of his contact. While his eyes are covered, I selfishly take advantage of the opportunity to check him out again, my eyes roaming over all of that taut, lean muscle covering his chest. My gaze licks over his skin, the way my tongue aches to, from his rock-hard pecs, to his six pack abs, to the V of his Adonis belt framing the soft line of hair dipping from his navel into his boxers.

Happy trails to me.

Shaking my head in an attempt to scatter my thoughts, I focus on steering this runaway train back on the tracks, swallowing hard as I search for the right thing to say. “You can’t run from your feelings,” I murmur gently. “You’ve gotta face your grief, head-on. That’s the only way you’ll ever be able to get past it. You can’t sweep something like this under the rug or it’ll consume you.”

Chase is suddenly so quiet that for a moment, I wonder if he passed out. That is, until he mutters something so low that I almost miss it, his arm still shielding his eyes.

“I didn’t do shit with Stasia.”

I snort. “Not tonight, you mean?”

His arm slides from his face and he props himself up on his elbows, biceps flexing, abs tightening.Fuck, this man is beautiful.His eyes meet mine, the intensity of his gaze making me weak in the knees. “Not since we… whatever this is. Even that first night, I didn’t fuck her. I let her suck me off, but I thought about you the whole time.”

“Charming.” I grit my teeth, trying not to picture exactly what went down between them that night. She was in here, with him, on her knees…

“I’m serious,” Chase growls, reaching out for me. A surprised gasp parts my lips as my feet leave the floor and he hauls me down onto his chest. My face hovers above his, my palms flat against his bare skin. He sweeps my hair behind my ear with his fingers, so gently that I find myself leaning into his touch, seeking it. “You’re all I can think about,” he murmurs, the featherlight touch of his fingertips traveling down my cheek and tracing my jawline. “It’s driving me fucking crazy.”

I wish I could ignore what that admission does to my insides, but there go the hornets.

Fuck.

He’s drunk. I shouldn’t take any of this to heart. But what’s that they say- a drunk man’s words are a sober man’s thoughts?

Damnit, I can’t do this. Not now, not withhim. Nothing good can come of it.

“You should get some sleep,” I grind out, pushing up on his chest and rolling off of his body. As soon as my own hits the soft mattress beside him, he rocks onto his side and his arm hooks around my waist, drawing me into the warmth of his chest.

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