Page 113 of The Chase

“Text me if you decide to stay out all night so I don’t worry?”

For the first time since I told him I was interested in Fitz, he reveals a flash of anger. With a cynical smile, he says, “I’m pretty sure you’ll be too busy to care what I’m doing tonight, Summer.”

Guilt pierces into me. “Hunter…”

Don’t be like this,I want to say, but how can I blame him? I agreed to go on a date with him, and ten minutes into it I told him I wanted to be with somebody else. That’s a crappy thing to do to someone, and I don’t know how I’ll ever make this up to him.

“Thanks for driving me back,” I whisper.

“Of course.”

I reach over and gently touch his shoulder, and he winces as if I’ve hurt him. And I realize I have, only not physically. I hadn’t known he’d liked me this much. I thought it was more of a flirtation on his part.

I pull the door handle and slide out of the Rover. I’ve barely taken a step before Hunter reverses out of the driveway. He drives off in a cloud of exhaust that burns my nostrils before floating away in the evening air.

I feel awful as I let myself into the house. I guess Hollis went out, because he’s not in the living room, and his bedroom is empty when I pass the open doorway. I ignore my own room and walk to the master. No light spills into the hallway from beneath the door, but I know Fitz is home because his car’s in the driveway. Unless he went somewhere with Hollis, but I guess I’ll find out.

I take a breath, gather my courage, and knock softly.

No response.

Crap. Maybe he did go out.

I hesitate, just for a second, before turning the knob and easing the door forward. The room is bathed in shadows. I squint in the darkness and make out a bulky figure on the bed. He’s not under the covers, but a fleece throw is haphazardly draped over his lower body.

“Fitz?”

The mattress shifts. “Summer?” he says sleepily.

“Yeah. I’m back.”

He makes a drowsy sound, a cross between a moan and a rumble. It’s so frigging cute. “How long was I asleep for?”

“Not long. It’s barely eight.”

“You left thirty minutes ago.” There’s a lot of confusion in that statement.

“Yes.”

“And now you’re back.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

I close the door and then approach the foot of the bed. “I’m not sure yet. But…I have three questions for you.” I take a breath. “Could you please, just this once, try to answer them? I don’t expect a speech or anything. A yesor no would suffice.” I seek out his eyes in the shadows. “Please, Fitz?”

The throw rustles as he slides into a sitting position. “What do you want to know?” he asks gruffly.

With a shaky exhalation, I ask, “Do you still think I’m surface level?”

“No. I don’t.” Sheer sincerity.

I nod slowly. “Did you plan on running away after I sucked you off in the locker room?”

“No. I didn’t.” Genuine regret.

I swallow. “Are you as tired of fighting this attraction between us as I am?”

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