Page 10 of Giving Chase

But looking into Chase's eyes, feeling the warmth of his embrace, all those concerns seem distant, manageable.

"No," I whisper. "I don't regret it. At least, not yet."

Chase's answering smile is radiant. He leans in to kiss me again, and as I melt into his embrace, a small voice in the back of my mind whispers a dire warning:This is going to complicate everything.

But with Chase's arms around me and the echo of that song still playing in my mind, I can't bring myself to care. Whatever complications may come, in this moment, everything feels perfectly, wonderfully right.

It was a kiss. Just a kiss. Well, notjusta kiss. The most amazing kiss I’ve ever had. But something tells me it’s the beginning of something unstoppable. Something dangerous. Something that feels amazing now but is going to destroy both of us later.

“I… should go,” I say, forcing myself to pull away from him. It almost physically hurts. “Justin will be up soon for school.”

His face falls, but he covers it quickly, his hands falling from my waist. I have to suppress a shudder at the chill from the loss of his warmth.

“Right,” he says, a crooked smile showcasing his dimple. “To be continued.”

My heart stutters at his words, and fear runs through me. Was this a giant mistake? Did I just ruin everything? Did I let my heart lead my head yet again? I should know better than to let this happen. What about my rules? Aren’t they there for a reason? What the fuck am I doing?

It was just a kiss.

As we leave the studio, the first hints of dawn streaking the sky, I can't shake the feeling that we've just set something monumental in motion. For better or worse, nothing will ever be the same again.

Sin on Skin

CHASE

“So,"Eliza's voice comes through the phone, crisp and professional. "Where should we start?"

My breath catches in my throat. Five years, and her voice still has the power to stop me in my tracks. I pace the length of my living room, bare feet silent on the polished hardwood, phone pressed to my ear. Outside, the Malibu surf crashes against the shore, a rhythmic counterpoint to my racing heart.

"How about we start with hello?" I say, aiming for lightness but hearing the tension in my own voice. "It's good to hear from you, Eliza."

There's a pause, heavy with unspoken words. I close my eyes, picturing her: the furrow between her brows as she weighs her words, the way she'd twirl a strand of hair around her finger when she was thinking.Does she still do that?

"Hello, Chase," she finally says, her tone softening almost imperceptibly. "I think we should discuss the logistics of the induction ceremony."

Of course. Straight to business. That's Eliza all over. But I can't just ignore the elephant in the room, the five years ofsilence between us. Five years of regret, of growth, of wondering 'what if?'

"Sure, we can talk logistics," I say, running a hand through my hair – longer now, streaked with silver. "But don't you think we should address the fact that this is the first time we've spoken in five years?"

I hear her sharp intake of breath. "Chase, I don't think-"

"Please, Eliza," I cut in, my voice low and urgent. "I know you want to keep this professional, but we can't just pretend like there isn't a history here."

Another pause, longer this time. I use it to steel myself, to remind myself that I'm not that reckless kid anymore. I'm sober now. Stable. The man she always believed I could be.

"Fine," she says finally, a hint of that familiar fire in her voice. "You want to talk about it? Let's talk. Why haven't you reached out in five years, Chase?"

The question hits me like a physical blow, even though I was expecting it. I sink onto my couch, the leather cool against my skin. My eyes fall on the five-year sobriety chip on my coffee table, a constant reminder of how far I've come – and who I have to thank for it.

"I... I wanted to," I begin, the words feeling inadequate. "God, Eliza, you have no idea how many times I picked up the phone, started to dial your number."

"But you didn't," she says, her voice tight with an emotion I can't quite place. Hurt? Anger? Both? “As a matter of fact, I believe you even blocked my number, which is why I’m calling from this phone.”

"No, I didn't call. And…yes, I did," I admit, the shame of it washing over me anew. "I couldn’t, Eliza. After everything I put you through, everything you did for me... I didn't know how to face you."

I think back to that last day I saw her, when she dropped me off at the final rehab, the way she looked at me – a mixture of hope and resignation that haunts me still. "I thought I was doing the right thing," I continue. "Giving you space, letting you move on with your life without me complicating things."

"That wasn't your decision to make, Chase," Eliza says, her professional facade cracking slightly. "Do you have any idea-" She stops abruptly, and I hear her take a deep breath. "Never mind. It doesn't matter now."

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