Page 83 of When the Fake Snow Falls

I lie back in bed, and Chase pulls me to him. His body is warm, strong, and safe. He gently brushes his fingertips over my skin in soothing patterns until I drift off to sleep, knowing being awake with him here is far better than any dream.

The next time my eyes flutter open, soft sunlight peeks through the windows, and I stretch my arms overhead. The first thing that hits me is the feeling of the bed being too big—the feeling of being suddenly alone. Sitting up, I hold the blanket to my chest and look around the room, but it’s empty. Only then does the quiet sound of cabinets closing catch my attention.

Getting to my feet, I wrap his soft comforter around me and head into the bathroom for a mirror. To my surprise, I don’t look as rough as I thought I might. My curls have fallen, and my lips are back to their natural color, but I don’t lookbad.I look like a slightly faded, washed-out version of the girl I was last night. With the pad of my thumb, I gently rub away some of the eyeliner that smeared overnight.

Looking around, I take in the dark slate that covers the floor and bottom half of the wall. His entire walk-in shower matches, and it all beautifully compliments his black cabinets and white countertop. I pick up a tube of toothpaste neatly set on the counter and put a little on my finger as a makeshift toothbrush to freshen up.

Feeling ready to face him, I grab my phone and head back the way I came. There are four messages from Miles, but each is only one word.

Miles:

BITCH

WHERE

ARE

YOU?!

I let out a breath of laughter and quickly send him a text.

Candace:

Yes, I’m still with him. Yes, it was that good. Yes, I will tell you about it.

My phone buzzes in my hand, but I ignore it. With my hand on his bedroom door handle, I breathe to try to get rid of any lingering nerves.Please don’t let this be awkward.

The door opens, and the sight makes me pause. Chase is shirtless, wearing nothing but navy sweats as he cooks breakfastwith his tiny Christmas tree perched on the counter like a loyal assistant. I don’t think I’ve ever appreciated anything more. Everything about him, from his bedhead hair to his bare feet makes me want to pull him right back into this bedroom and repeat what happened last night.

He looks up, and relief fills me when that easy smile pulls at his lips.

My own smile stretches across my face, and it’s only then that I realize I was biting my bottom lip. Crossing the room, I head into the kitchen and stand next to him so I can peer into the pan. There are eggs, bacon, toast, and fruit. All sliced, cooked, and prepared. My eyes widen. “You’ve been busy.”

“I figured this was the most productive way to distract myself from you being naked in my bed.”

I give him a sideways glance and steal a blueberry from the bowl on the counter. “If I wasn’t so hungry, I might complain about that.” We’re flirting. It’s the morning after our deal has expired, and we’re flirting in his kitchen. Maybe it’s just hard to break the pattern we’ve fallen into.

Chase lifts his brow as he turns off the different burners. “Does this mean you haven’t had enough of me yet?”

My heart pounds in my chest, but if I don’t put myself out there now, it will never happen. Turning him toward me, I push up on my toes and kiss him.

Once I pull back, I dare to look up at him. His eyes are wide like I’ve surprised him. How can he not know I’m completely at his mercy? “Chase, you could fuck me in every room, and I still wouldn’t have enough of you.”

In an instant, his mouth is on mine, and I’m overwhelmed with the taste of mint from his toothpaste. He hoists me onto the counter, and the blanket I’ve been holding falls open. He pulls back and lets his eyes drag over me. “God, I love seeing you naked.” He kisses my neck. “Never wear clothes around me again.”

I tilt my head, leaning into him, and the blanket falls free, collecting around my hips. Chase lets out a groan, his hands palming my breasts, and my legs fall open. Too soon—tooabruptly—he pulls back, and I watch in shock as he spoons some scrambled eggs onto a piece of toast.

“What are you doing?” I ask with wide eyes, suddenly overly aware of how naked I am.

He holds the toast up to my mouth. “Eat, beautiful. I can’t fuck you when I know you’re hungry.”

With a light laugh, I take a bite, my eyes widening. Covering my mouth with my hand, I say, “Chase, that’s good—like really good.”

“I know,” he says, holding the toast for me to take another bite. “I’m not much of a cook, but I’ve mastered breakfast.”

My lips twist, and I roll my eyes. “So modest.” Nodding toward the toast, I add, “You have to eat, too.”

The corner of his mouth twitches, and he takes a bite where I left off. “I think you’re underestimating how badly I want to watch you come again.”

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