Page 93 of Some Kind of Forever
“Oh, I have so many stories. Nursing in New York is a different world than California, but I’m glad to be home.” Something beeps on her end, muffled yelling coming through a second later. “Hey, I have to get back to work, but I’ll see you both next month.” She hangs up before we can say goodbye, and I shake my head, imagining her running down the hallway to a patient’s room, her curly ponytail flying behind her.
“You are insomuch trouble…” Chase says, leaning against the counter and tsking at me. I squint at him, putting one hand on my hip while reaching for a tub of yogurt with the other. “Don’t…” he warns, reaching me in two steps. I drop my hand, abandoning the yogurt on the counter.
“You’re acting like I changed a tire…” I tease, looking up at him. He wraps both arms around my waist, leaning in close.
“Too soon…” he says, leaning down for a kiss. “You were supposed to text me when you got in the parking garage…”
“It’s five things. It’s fine.”
“Baby, there are ten bags on this counter. And your wrists still have marks on them from hauling it all inside.” He gives a look, daring me to say he’s wrong.
I roll my eyes, knowing he’s not going to let this go, and raise on my toes to give him a peck. He holds me tighter and stares me down until I roll my eyes again, wrapping my hands around the back of his head and pulling him down into a proper kiss. With a smile against my lips, he melts into me, fully forgiving my rebellious streak of independence. He knows we’ll have this same argument next week, and I know he’ll forgive me afterward.
I pull back, biting my lip to try and leverage a deal. “How about I let you put everything away and we can forget about this little lapse in judgment?”
“Or… We could keep doingthis,and let the groceries handle themselves.” He presses his lips to mine, his sigh making me heavily consider his suggestion.
Chase has been pulling late nights at work, and this is the first he’s beaten me home in a couple of weeks. Some nights, I’ve fallen asleep on the couch just to see him for a couple of minutes before going to bed and doing it all over again the next day. His EdTechU team is trying to recruit a big account from Chicago to here in San Francisco, and he’s been working himself ragged to get it done. I haven’t heard him complain, but I know he’s exhausted. We’re almost to the weekend, when we’ll both get some rest, relaxation, and quality time.
“If we dothat, the ice cream will melt. Do you really want me to go back to the store?” I lift my chin expectantly.
“Good point…” He presses a kiss to my forehead before reaching behind me for the yogurt and cheese. When he turns back toward the fridge, I stretch my arm across the counter for the bag of tortillas.
“KaylaMarieHarris…” Chase says, not bothering to turn around from the fridge.
“Fine!” I huff, putting my hands in the air. I drop the bag and step away from the counter. Apparently, living together for three years hasn’t taught me anything because we still battle with the groceries weekly. He wants to help me bring everything in, and I can usually get it all in one quick, albeit heavy, trek. There isn’t much we butt heads on anymore, but tires and groceries will do it every time.
Kicking off my heels with a groan, I lean against the island, watching him work. Chase’s phone rings in his pocket as he sticks the last of the reusable bags on the hook inside the pantry. He scrubs his face with one hand, taking a heaving breath before reaching into his front pocket. “It’s work.” He keeps his eyes down at the screen, turning to head back into the bedroom. “Hey, Trev,” he says as he closes the door behind him.
I hang my bag on the hook by the front door and slip my shoes in the basket underneath. Grabbing my laptop, I shuffle over to the couch and peek out of the large glass window of our high rise, watching the golden hour of light fade as I go.
Patti has me working with her on a party in LA on Friday, and I have a few more workups to send out for approval before my flight tomorrow. Chase is flying down with me to make a weekend of it. I haven’t seen everyone in a few months so after the event, we’ll spend the rest of the weekend with our families. I’m looking forward to some much-needed downtime.
Pulling up my work email, I review the new messages from Joan, my engagement party client in LA. She’s Patti’s oldest friend, and the story of how she and her fiancé got together is adorable—high school sweethearts reconnected in their sixties. Joan has been a pleasure to work with, loving everything I’ve sentover, trusting my professional opinions. Her style is reminiscent of mine, which makes the process that much quicker. I can envision myself in the space, pretending like this engagement party is my own, at times, to fully embody her vision. Blush pink and golden champagne colors will cover every inch of the venue, with pink lilies and white peonies as the floral arrangements. The only thing I would have different from hers is losing the tacky At Last banner she insists on having. It’s a little too on the nose for my taste, but this party isn’t for me.
Not yet anyway. Chase would have married me after the first year if I would have let him. I blame the idyllic relationship he grew up seeing between his parents. I’ve wanted to wait, building our lives—our careers, our futures—to make sure we have solid ground to stand on. We have ensured, together, that our bond is unbreakable. I wouldn’t change one bit of the last five years. He’s my everything, and there’s no sense of urgency to sign a paper saying we are what we already feel we are. That’s not to say we won’t do it, there just isn’t any rush.
The bedroom door clicks open as I’m moving pictures around my screen, trying to finalize the table centerpieces for Friday. Fully distracted, I don’t glance up until Chase sits next to me on the couch. His hand caresses my knee as he waits for me to get to a stopping point. When I finally look at him, he’s got his head leaned over the back of the couch.
“How’s Trevor?” I ask with a slightly sarcastic tone. They just saw each other at work a few hours ago. He doesn’t answer right away, so I move my computer to the coffee table, giving him my full attention. “What’s wrong?”
“Uh…” He scrunches his face, and I know he’s got bad news. I wait, watching as he rubs his thumb in between his closed eyes. “So, I have to fly out to Chicago on Friday…”
I blow a breath through my lips, trying to tamp down the disappointment before it starts. “I thought Trevor was going…”
“He was, but he just called saying he’s got a fever and chills. He can’t go and infect everyone in Chicago and expect us to landthe contract. Baby, I know we’ve been looking forward to this weekend, but this is something I can’t get out of. It’s either me or we lose the account.” He turns toward me and wraps his hands around my waist, pulling me closer. A look of regret falls over his face as his blue eyes peer into mine.
“It’s fine,” I say, trying to make myself believe I don’t feel sad. It’s work. I know better than anyone that sometimes you just have to put work first. “We can have another weekend. It’s fine.”
“It’snotfine,” he groans. He stands and places one hand on either side of the sofa around me, before planting a feverish kiss on my mouth. It’s needy and firm, full of the pent-up energy long working hours brings. He’s missed me, and I’m one more of those steamy kisses away from forgetting about my work and showing him how much I’ve missed him too. “I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you,” he whispers.
“Right now?” I ask, biting my lip.
“I can make it up to you right now if that’s what you want,” he says, standing to do whatever it is I’m about to ask him. He turns toward the kitchen, and I just know he’s expecting me to ask for the ice cream in the freezer.
“Oh, I definitelywant…” I look up through my lashes, my eyes traveling from his belt, up his torso, and finally landing on his mouth while I wait for him to connect the dots. I lick my lips, and by the time my eyes reach his, I find my longing reflected back at me. Unfolding my legs from the couch, I stand in front of him, moving close enough that our chests touch. Reaching up, he grazes his thumb across my chin, and I move back, biting the smile spreading on my lips. He cocks his head to the side, and I take off for the bedroom, slipping past his fingers with a squeal as he tries to grab my waist. Chase groans behind me, a clear sign he’s too tired to play games tonight, but he gives chase anyway.
Entering the bedroom, I move right to the mirrored dresser, taking off earrings and loosening my locs from the tight spiral on top of my head. I slip off the tennis bracelet from my left wrist, an anniversary gift from my love, leaving only the rose gold band onmy thumb. When I look back at my reflection, Chase is watching me through the mirror from the doorway. His hip is propped against the side of the doorframe, with one hand holding the top. I stare back, raising an encouraging brow to see what his next move is going to be as I slowly reach behind me to unzip the back of my skirt. That’s enough to get him across the room.
