Page 59 of Alpha Chase

“Stay.”

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck.

Chase’s fingers find the zipper of my jacket, dragging it down, and my heart thumps wildly at the grinding sound of the metal teeth separating. His chest is pressed firmly against my back, his breath on my neck. His scent fills my nose, and while he may be drunk on whiskey, I’m starting to feel half drunk on him.

Reality smacks me in the face and it suddenly dawns on me how much trouble I’m in. If his words are to be believed, I’ve already let this go too far. If I get in any deeper with Chase, I’ll drown. I cover his hand with my own, thwarting his efforts with my zipper.

“If you want me to stay, we’re keeping our clothes on,” I whisper.

His movements still, his arm sliding from my waist as he jackknifes up on the bed and clambers out of it. I slowly sit up and watch him stride over to the dresser, thinking that I wouldn’t be surprised if this is where he tells me to leave- but he shocks the shit out of me when he fishes a t-shirt out of his drawer and tugs it on over his head, sticking his arms in the sleeves.

“You win this one, little fury,” he grumbles, snatching another t-shirt out of the drawer and tossing it in my direction. It lands on the bed beside me, and I stare down at it for a moment before my eyes return to his. He folds his thick forearms over his chest, smirking. “Can I at least watch you change into it?”

“Nice try,” I chuckle, pushing up from the bed and scooping up the t-shirt, making my way to the bathroom and closing the door tightly behind me.

Morning comes too soon. Chase’s scent is all around me- on the shirt I’m wearing, on the sheets I’m resting on, and on him lying beside me. Even the lingering stench of stale alcohol seeping from his pores doesn’t detract from that rich, masculine scent that he carries. I breathe it in deeply like I’m deprived of oxygen, squeezing my eyes closed, savoring it for one more moment. Then, all too reluctantly, I wriggle out from under his arm, climbing out of bed and heading for the bathroom to change back into my own clothes.

Considering he didn’t even stir when I left the bed, I’m surprised to find him awake when I emerge, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“What time is it?” Chase asks drowsily, squinting in my direction.

“Almost eight.” I strut over to the dresser, slipping my feet into my shoes.

Chase groans loudly. “Why the fuck are you awake?”

I comb my fingers through my hair, turning back to him. “I’ve got an early shift today. Some of us actually have to work, remember?”

He groans again as I step toward the bed. I’ll bet he feels like hell today, given his condition last night. I can’t find it in me to feel bad for him, though, not when he did this to himself.

“Uh, look, about last night…” I begin hesitantly.

“What about it?” Chase asks bluntly, blinking back at me.

I worry my lower lip between my teeth, shoving my hands into the pockets of my jeans and toying with my car keys. “We should probably talk about it. What you said…”

He throws the sheet from his body, sitting up straighter and scrubbing a hand over his face. “Sorry, babe, I don’t remember shit about last night. Last thing I remember is freezing my balls off in the woods trying to get back here.” His scrutinizing eyes drop down my body, a devious gleam lurking in them. “But I guess since you’re here, we had a pretty good night, eh?”

“What?!” I blurt, completely thrown off by his sudden amnesia. “No, we…” I shake my head, my chest tightening. “You don’t remember?”

Chase shrugs. “Guess I was pretty rocked last night.” He winces, rubbing his temple. “You sure you have to leave? You could always call in to work, stick around for some morning sex. It was pretty fun last time.” He winks, an infuriatingly smug smirk on his lips.

“Goodbye, Chase,” I sigh, whipping around and heading straight for the door before he can stop me. Before he can see the hurt in my eyes.

Before I change my own damn mind and lose myself in something that can never be.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Chase

Iremembereverything.

It would be a hell of a lot easier if I didn’t, because then I wouldn’t know what put that wounded look in Vienna’s eyes when she left this morning. She ran out of here quickly, but not before I saw the flicker of hurt behind those big brown eyes that immediately made me feel like shit.

Why the fuck did I have to go running my mouth last night?

It came out like word vomit at the time, but in the light of day, I couldn’t cop to my slip-up. Not to her, and not to myself. It’s easier to pretend like it never happened than to actually face what that admission might mean; that Vienna Vega has well and truly gotten under my skin.

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