Page 63 of Check & Chase
He works me through it, gentling his touch as I become oversensitive, until I’m pushing at his shoulders, unable to take any more. He presses one last kiss to my inner thigh before rising, grimacing slightly as his bad knee straightens.
“Still worth it?” I ask, nodding toward his knee.
His smile is blinding. “Absolutely.”
He helps me down from the countertop, steadying me when my legs prove unsteady. I adjust my dress, suddenly aware of the absence of my underwear.
“I should probably get that back,” I mention, nodding toward his pocket.
“Finder’s keepers, Blondie.” His grin is unrepentant. “Consider it motivation for next time.”
“Next time?” I echo, reality starting to creep back in.
His expression turns more serious, his hand coming up to cup my cheek. “Unless you’re saying this was a one-time thing.”
I should say yes. Should reinstate the boundaries we just shattered. Should remember all the reasons this is complicated—his injury, my job, our agreement that this relationship is just for show.
But the thought of never feeling his touch again is suddenly unbearable.
“Not a one-time thing,” I admit.
His smile is slow, satisfied. “Good to know, Blondie.”
We step out of the bathroom, smoothing our clothes and trying to look like he didn’t just make me come. The party hasn’t missed a beat—music still thumps through the house, people still laugh too loudly, and no one seems to notice our brief disappearance.
He gives my hand a gentle squeeze before heading toward the nearest couch to rest his knee, promising he’ll join me again once it stops throbbing.
I make my way back to the dance floor, my cheeks still flushed, heart still racing. Maya finds me almost immediately, grabbing my hand with a grin and pulling me into a twirl.
We dance together, laughter bubbling from my chest. I try not to think about what this means for our arrangement, for the walls I’ve built around my heart.
I try not to acknowledge that what started as a fake relationship has just veered into very real territory.
Instead, I focus on the solid thrum of music in my chest, Maya’s carefree energy, and the sight of Chase watching me from the corner, his expression so open it makes my breath catch.
Whatever complications tomorrow brings, right now, in this moment, I’m exactly where I want to be.
Emma
Chapter Twelve
“So you’re telling me you and Chase Mitchell just happened to start dating the exact moment he became your patient?” Jackson’s voice crackles through my phone speaker.
I wince, holding the phone away from my ear as my brother’s volume increases. After three days of ducking his calls, I finally answered this morning.
“We met before he became my patient. At the coffee shop near the training facility.”
Jackson snorts. “Emma, I’ve known you your entire life. You’re a terrible liar.”
Guilt twists in my stomach. Technically, we did meet before he became my patient—at the party last year, not at a coffee shop.
“You know his reputation. The guy’s a player. Remember what happened with his last PT?”
“That’s not how it happened,” I say before I can stop myself. “He was eighteen.Shewas the aggressor.”
“And you know this how? Mitchell’s version?”
“Yes, his version. Which Ibelieve.”
