Page 53 of Eye Candy

“Yes.”

He grinned. “Coming up.” Then he awkwardly sidestepped Lyssa in the doorway—normies were so uncomfortable with nudity! Even partial nudity!—and disappeared into his kitchen.

Lyssa, her blue eyes like saucers, leaped onto the soft mattress, bouncing on her knees. “Caroline! The rich hottie likes you!”

“Who, you?” I pretended to misunderstand. “I already knew that.”

She pushed me playfully. “Stop. My mom has money, but notSanford Groupkind of money. And Chase is cute. I went through all his drawers when you were helping the puking Hulk, and I didn’t find anything alarming. No molars on a necklace that might have belonged to an ex, or biographies written by tech bros. He does have multiple versions of the same sweater in his closet, like a cartoon character, but bad fashion sense isn’t a deal-breaker”—quickly she added—“foryou. I’d rather find a tooth necklace than date a guy who thinks caramel cashmere is chic.”

“We’re not dating.”

She snorted. “The professor simp doth protest too much, methinks.” Then she snapped her fingers. “There’s this great floral jacket in the fashion closet where I used to intern that I think would be perfect on Chase. It has navy elbow patches, which I know will do it for you, plus the monochromatic blues will go well with his coloring and bring out those unnerving eyes?—”

“His eyes aren’t unnerving!”

She waved me off. “Unnerving doesn’t mean bad, Caroline.I’munnerving.” Then she sighed. “I wish I’d taken that jacketbefore I left. Maybe I can get someone to grab it for me. Dana in the mail room might still be on my side, although I don’t think she has access to the fashion closet… Wait, what am I talking about? Chase is rich; I can just tell him where to shop.” She flopped down next to me on the bed, her hair making a cloud on the pillows. “You know, I never saw myself leaving West Village, but I don’t suppose Mr. Moral will want to move into our place. Bunk beds aren’t sexual-partner friendly. Unless there’s such a thing as three-tier bunk beds?”

“Lyssa—”

“Kidding, kidding, I know we can’t have three-tier bunks. Root Beer is arthritic. But this place is nice, even without bunk beds. Root will like having a terrace.” I couldn’t tell if she was joking or she genuinely planned to move in here. “Is Mr. Moral allergic to cats, do you know? I don’t know if we can live with a man who is allergic to cats.”

“Mr. Mora—Chaseand I are not an ongoing thing, Lyssa. This was one and done.”

“Because of the scam?”

“Scam’s dead.”

Lyss looked like she was about to cheer, so I added quickly, “But we still won’t work. I don’t think I can stay in New York. It’s a whole long thing; we’ll talk about it later”—the look on her face was devastating—“I know Lyssa. Iknow. But I can’t get into it now, not in his apartment, or I’ll cry. Please, I need your help.”

Her expression showed she didn’t like it, but she sighed and asked, “What do you need?”

“Eat bagels with me.”

So, we ate bagels at Chase’s sunny breakfast bar, wrapped in borrowed robes, while he tried to explain Dungeons and Dragons. Last time he played, his team had defeated a hydra, and apparently that was a big deal. Lyssa had lots of follow-up questions, mostly about cosplayers’ costumes, which Chase knew nothing about, but promised to put her in contact with some people. Sunbeams crept over the floor with the cheerful optimism that aSaturday morning in this zip code guaranteed. This was Chelsea, and the only worries in Chelsea were which cashmere sweater to wear, whether to run to Starbucks for coffee or make one on the machine, and if the farmer’s market would have the nice provolone today.

Did it change me to enjoy this? Could a person still be a scrappy showgirl and have bagels in Chelsea? Deep down, I wanted both.

Later, when Lyssa was in Chase’s guest shower, no doubt using as much of every product as she could—the man had fresh eucalyptus hanging in his shower; no wonder Lyss was planning to move in—Chase reached across the counter and laid his hand over mine. I stared at his watch’s pretty gold dials, each one displaying something different. I had no idea what. I knew nothing about watches, but I knew his was expensive.

He cleared his throat. “I’ve been meaning to ask you?—”

Now he was going to ask why I’d impersonated Teddy. He’d just wanted to ensure my grumbling stomach wouldn’t interrupt his interrogation. Chase was a nurturer, true, but ultimately still a goody-two-shoes.

But again he surprised the hell out of me.

“What are you doing next weekend? Do you want to come to Canada with me?”

CHAPTER 21

CHASE

“Well,how would you have done it?!”

“Not like that! What’s wrong with you?”

Xan was looking at me like I was one of his role-play characters—and not a cool, enviable one—one that caused the party endless grief by inviting women they hardly knew to travel out of the country with them.

“Well, if it were Amber, how would you ask her to come away with you?”

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