Page 51 of Check & Chase
Chase is already seated when I arrive, having texted that he’d secured us a corner table. He stands when he sees me, balancing on his crutches, and something flutters in my chest at the way his eyes warm as they take me in.
I’ve chosen a simple outfit: jeans, a soft green sweater, ankle boots. Nothing flashy, nothing that screams “date.” But Chase looks at me like I’m wearing couture.
“You look beautiful,” he comments as I slide into the seat across from him.
“This is practice, remember? Save the compliments for when we have an audience.”
He smiles, unrepentant. “Just getting into character.”
The waiter brings menus and takes our drink orders. A glass of Chianti for me, water for Chase, who explains he’s avoiding alcohol while on pain medication.
“So,” I begin once we’re alone again, “we should go over our story. Make sure the details align.”
“First coffee date was last Saturday,” he begins. “You spilled your latte on my favorite shirt, insisted on paying for dry cleaning. I asked for your number instead.”
“Second date was Monday,” I continue. “Dinner at that new place on Oak Street.”
“I was so charming you couldn’t resist agreeing to be my plus one for the gala.”
I roll my eyes, but I’m smiling. “More like you begged and I took pity on you.”
“Begged?” Chase places a hand over his heart. “Mitchell men don’t beg, Blondie. We persuade.”
“Is that what you call it?”
Our banter is interrupted by the waiter returning with our drinks and taking our dinner orders. Once he’s gone, Chase leans forward, voice lowering.
“What about the party last year? Should we acknowledge knowing each other before, or pretend it never happened?”
I consider this. “Better to acknowledge meeting briefly but not elaborate. If anyone mentions seeing us together that night, we say we chatted but that was it.”
“Chatted,” Chase repeats with a smirk. “Is that what the kids are calling it these days?”
“Shut up,” I mutter, fighting a smile. “What about Tyler?”
“He’ll keep his mouth shut if he knows what’s good for him,” Chase responds, his expression turning serious. “What about your brother? Jackson’s going to hear about this eventually. What’s our play there?”
I grimace, having deliberately avoided thinking about that complication. “I’ll handle Jackson. But be prepared for some hostility.”
“More than usual, you mean?”
“Much more than usual.”
He grins, seemingly delighted by the prospect. “Worth it.”
Our food arrives, temporarily halting the conversation. We fall into easy small talk as we eat, the conversation flowing naturally despite the artificial nature of our arrangement.
We’re so engrossed in the conversation that I don’t notice we have company until a shadow falls across our table.
“Well, look who it is.”
I look up to find Donovan, the Bears’ captain, standing beside our table with his girlfriend, Anna.
“Donovan,” Chase greets him with a nod. “Anna. Joining us for dinner?”
“Just picking up takeout,” Donovan replies, his gaze shifting between us with obvious curiosity. “Didn’t expect to find you two here. Together.”
I feel heat creeping into my cheeks, suddenly very aware of how this looks.
