Page 74 of Check & Chase
My phone rings, cutting through whatever he was about to say. Jackson.
“I need to take this,” I tell Chase, who nods.
“We’ll talk later,” he promises, pausing at the door with that dimpled smile. “I promise to ice my knee this time.”
As soon as he’s gone, I answer. “Hey, Jack. What’s up?”
“Schedule change. We’re playing the Bears in two weeks. November 15th.”
My stomach drops. “That’s earlier than expected.”
“TV deal. They want the rivalry game during sweeps week. So we need to have that dinner. Soon.”
The dinner we’ve been putting off. The confrontation I’ve been dreading.
“I’m busy this week. Patients booked solid and—”
“Tomorrow night. Carmichael’s at seven. No excuses, Em. We’re having this conversation before I have to see Mitchell on the ice.”
Chase won’t be on the ice, I almost point out. But that would just pull focus from the more pressing issue.
“Fine. Tomorrow at seven.”
“And bring him.”
I nearly drop the phone. “What?”
“You heard me. Bring Mitchell. If he’s so important to you, I want to meet him officially.”
The idea of my brother and Chase at the same dinner table makes my pulse skyrocket. “That’s not a good idea, Jack.”
“It wasn’t a request. I’m trying here, Em. Meeting him on your terms instead of at the game. Give me that much.”
Put that way, it’s hard to refuse. “I’ll ask him.”
“Good. And Emma? I love you. Even when you make decisions I don’t understand.”
The simple statement makes my throat tight. “I love you too, Jack. Even when you’re an overprotective pain in my ass.”
His laugh follows me as I end the call. Asking Chase to dinner with Jackson seems beyond the scope of our fake relationship agreement. But refusing would either blow our cover or make Chase look like an asshole.
With a sigh, I type out a text.
Me:Emergency. Jackson wants to have dinner tomorrow night. Asked me to bring you. Can you handle a meal with your enemy?
Chase:Dinner with Captain Anderson? The same guy who tried to separate my head from my body last time I played against him? Sounds delightful. What time?
Me:7 PM. Carmichael’s downtown. You sure about this? It won’t be pleasant.
Chase:I’ve survived worse than a protective big brother. Besides, can’t pass up the chance to see you outside of PT again. We still need to talk.
That last part makes my heart stutter. We do need to talk about boundaries that keep shifting, about kisses that weren’t part of the plan.
Me:I know. Wear something nice. And don’t forget to ice your knee.
Chase:Yes, Ms. Anderson. Twice. Twenty minutes. And I always look nice.
I can’t argue with that last part.
