Page 26 of Chase
“Yeah well, maybe drunk me forgot that we don’t always get what we want,” I huff out and look away from them.They still don’t fucking get it.
I can’t fucking help it and drive my point home by looking over at Sloane. She looks pensive as she grips her necklace and nods her head at B. I can’t hear what they’re talking about but it looks serious as their conversation goes on. I don’t look away.She hasn’t smiled once since I’ve been watching and I miss seeing it on her pretty face.
She must feel me and tilts her head as her eyes find mine. This part is always so easy between us. It’s everything else that’s fucking complicated.
She only holds my stare for a second before her attention diverts back to my sister. I can literally hear that damn angel whispering, “See that’s how it’s supposed to be.”
“Earth to Chase,” my attention shifts to Jake while his hand flies back and forth in front of my face.
“You’re staring again,” he points out.
“Was just checking to see if she was alright,” I hesitantly say. I have no doubt that Max took care of B last night after everything that happened, but what about Sloane? Was she alright? Scared? Upset? Mad? Maybe Davis stayed with her to make sure she was fine.
“Do you think she is after all that? You’re sending her mixed messages, man,” Jake offers and I know he isn’t wrong. Maybe the battle I’m in between my head and heart isn’t so internal after all.
“Hear me out. Take last night, you won’t make a move but knock out the first guy who dances with her. You spout off wanting to fight her battles but won’t fight for her. You don’t want anyone else to go near her but won’t step up yourself. It’s confusing not only to her, but if I had to guess, to you too.” I swear you can hear my teammates chewing that's how quiet it is as Jake drops a bomb at brunch.
His words are like exploding shrapnel and hit me right in the chest. Even my angel and devil take cover and go into hiding under his scrutinizing eyes as he assesses me.
“Damn, don’t hold back or anything.” My skin feels tight and my head starts to pound again. “I’m gonna go, I don’t feel like being here anymore.”
I feel like I’m being fucking cut wide open for all to see. I’m way too sensitive for this shit and need to get the hell out of here. I go to stand and my brother demands that I sit my ass back down.
“Sit down, if we’re really gonna get into it, then I wanna know why you were drinking like that, to begin with, you never pull that crap during the season.” I don’t care what he wants to talk about and get into, I’m fucking done now.
I don’t want to deal with any of this anymore. I just want to go hole up in my room, lay face down in my bed, and then go for a run when it gets dark. Go see if her light is on later.
“I told you I don’t want to talk about it. I’m out, I need to get outta here.” This time I take my shit and go. I dump my tray of half-eaten food and sling my backpack over my shoulder. I left my hockey bag in Jake’s trunk and it can stay there until tomorrow morning for all I care. If it stinks up his SUV then that’s his goddamn payback for dropping a fucking hammer on me.
I don’t need him to point out how fucked up this thing with her is. I feel it in every part of my body. She’s every beat of my heart, every breath in my lungs, and she lives underneath the surface of my skin. I’m more than aware of every fucking moment that’s ever passed between us. I don’t need a fucking reminder, not when my soul begs and pleads for her every minute of every fucking day.
Chapter Nine
IPUSHthrough the doors leading out of the auditorium and start to walk through campus. It might be dark out but plenty of people are milling about for a Monday night. I tighten my coat around myself while walking down the paved paths.
I’m exhausted after one night of dress rehearsals. We have two left before the Winter Showcase and I’m more than ready for it. I’ve reserved tickets for all my friends and hope they come. I made sure to give Evie tickets for both her brothers and hopefilled my heart when she promised to get him to the show. I didn’t have to specify between the two, she knew.
Hope’s a funny thing. It’s a healing tonic for a lovesick heart. It can give off the illusion that anything is possible. I do my darndest to cup it in my hands, protect it, and hold it close, but the tiny pieces always seem to slip through my fingers. If I’m going to get through these performances then I’m going to need to really hold onto whatever hope I have left.
I’m performing in two drama club pieces and then singing a song of my choice. A last-ditch effort to either reel him in or set him free. I’m hoping for the first. He either wants me or he doesn’t. He can’t continue to have it both ways.
Saturday night was confusing. He showed me that he’s not willing to let another man near me but not willing to be my man. That he knows I can stand up for myself but wants to fight my battles. I honestly don’t know if I’m coming or going with him.
I woke up Sunday morning and was ready to talk about the fight with Evie. I wasn’t in the best headspace when we got back to our apartment on Saturday and asked her to let me sort things out in my head before we talked.
I had to cross my fingers behind my back when she asked if there was anything else bothering me. I didn’t want to lie to her but I didn’t want to admit to her that I was tempted to cut to make the evening melt away. I only held off because I hate doing it when she’s home and my brother wouldn’t stop Facetiming me until I finally answered.
We agreed to some bestie time over brunch and Max looked like someone kicked his puppy when she changed directions to come over to our two-person table. The poor thing looked devastated when he sat down without her by his side.
I had to hash out the thoughts in my head and the feelings in my heart. I’m conflicted, especially after talking with Davis whohas made it crystal clear that he thinks I should take a step away from Chase and quit the games we’ve been playing.
It’s not that simple though, I can’t seem to walk away. If anything I ran right to him when he was recovering in Drew’s room. I felt a tiny shift like we both took a small step toward each other. He fought the man that made me uncomfortable and I showed up to make sure he was okay.
I’ve replayed Saturday night over and over in my head, it’s been on a countless loop and if anyone knows how to decode Chase Wilton, it’s his sister Evie. When I told her that I needed more than longing looks and protective punches, she agreed but also suggested I give him some time.
She spilled the tea and told me that he cares deeply and wants to be with me but is in his own way. He’s self-sabotaging and I know a thing or two about that. It seems to me that he needs to get himself right, but I know that’s easier said than done. The scars I’ve given myself are proof of that.
I see the changes in him and can read between the lines. I don’t need her to reveal her brother’s mental health struggles for me to see them. It’s evident in his leaner appearance, the extra scruff growing along his prominent jaw, and the longer hair on his head. It looks like he’s not taking care of himself. I see the foggy depression clouding his chocolate brown eyes and the dark shadows below them. He’s dealing with some demons and needs to slay them.
