Page 3 of Chase
Running ten-plus miles before morning skate usually doesn’t fuck with me like this. I can handle it.At least I think I’ve been handling it.I know I’ve been pushing it. I can’t stop though. It’s the only thing that settles my thoughts. That makes me feel slightly better above my baseline of misery.That and watching her.
I can’t take two steps without someone stopping me. I keep my mask in place while I say hello and attempt to be as friendly as everyone expects me to be. I force smiles, try to respond with more than a grunt to what people are saying, and seem like I give a shit.I don’t.
Everyone’s talking about this weekend and what they’re getting up to. There’s a massive party tomorrow night at Drew’s place and no matter what excuses I’ve tried to come up with I know I’ll need to make an appearance. My sister is determined to go and I can’t get out of it no matter how much I rather just hole up in my fucking room.
Two well known jersey chasers flank either side of me and ask if I want to meet them after dinner to pregame before a party over on Greek Lane.Fuck. No. I don’t.I can’t shake my head no fast enough. I step out of their grip and ignore their whines. I want nothing to do with any of that.
“You just gave up dessert. I bet a little sugar would turn your frown upside down,” Monroe says with a smirk and a wink. Iimmediately think of Sloane at the mention of sugar. She uses it with everyone. Well not me, but everyone else.
“Have at it,” I tell him and continue walking while he hangs back to talk to the two blondes. I just want to eat my meal and get the hell out of here.
I may be in the middle of a jam-packed college cafeteria but I’ve never felt more alone. I may play on a team with my brother, some of my best friends, and a great group of guys, but they just don’t fucking get it.
They already have all these damn opinions about me. They think I’m dumb as a puck when it comes to Sloane. They love to point out the damn obvious and poke holes in my thinking. They really don’t understand why I won’t date my sister’s best friend.
I’ve spent an insane amount of fucking time, more time than any sane man should, thinking about what things would be like if I wasn’t me and she wasn’t her. If I wasn’t her best friend’s brother and there wasn’t a wall of my mistakes stacked between us.
It’s like that damn angel is constantly wagging her condescending finger in my face about it. I may be fixated on righting my wrongs, but Sloane’s never been in my blind spot. I don’t need any reminders of what could be if things were different. I know some of my feelings aren’t one-sided.
She lets me look at her for as long as I want. I’ve caught her secretly smiling when she notices I’m near her.Those smiles are just for me.
She’s never found me following her or already in her line of sight and turned away in fear. I think she likes it. I know my boys think I’m being a dumbass for letting her go when the reality is I never had her in the first place.
I have her the only way that seems to keep the two sides of my heart intact. Otherwise, I’m in a constant state of feeling ripped apart.
They think I should forgive myself because B said that everything’s okay now.But it isn’t.I know it isn’t. I see how she scans rooms for exits, sizes up people she doesn’t know, and seeks out Max when she gets anxious and needs comfort.
It’ll never stop for her. Sure she’s gotten better at managing it, at coping with how she feels, and processing what’s gone down. She’s the strongest person I know. But her trauma is embedded into her skin. I contributed to those scars. Me. Her brother.How the fuck am I supposed to forgive myself for that?
It’s easier to just avoid everyone than continue to have to hear their opinions on what I should or shouldn’t be doing when it comes to Sloane. I had no choice tonight when my boys cornered me in front of my cubby and insisted I come to dinner.
I don’t hang out much anymore. I didn’t think they gave a damn. No one has said anything, but then again I haven’t really given them the chance to.
I’m firmly carrying a tray of food with both hands locked on either side of the blue plastic rectangle when I finally make it to my teammates. My sister’s sitting next to Max and I’m not the least bit surprised she’s there. No, what has me near fumbling and dropping my damn tray is the drop-dead gorgeous girl sitting on the other side of her.
I haven’t seen her since the final day of last semester and goddamn, she looks hot. She’s back and I can’t fucking take it. My heart is beating outta my goddamn chest when I think about what this means. I’ll get to be with her again even if it’s in my own fucked up way.
It’s crazy how much I fucking missed her. The distance between us felt like a long crack along the fault line of my soul. The air in my lungs has been slowly seeping from that ripped seam. And being face-to-face with her again has me really struggling to breathe. She’s so goddamn gorgeous, her beauty steals whatever air I have left in my pitiful body.
Her effect on me is astonishing and fucking profound. Every cell that makes up who I am is acutely aware of the insanely stunning Sloane Higgins and what she does to me. Every damn time I’m in her vicinity I fucking short circuit - it’s like I lose my ability to fucking function.
It’s downright embarrassing how quickly I lose my shit when Sloane shares space with me. I can’t help it, and I definitely can’t stop it. I’ve got zero control. It just fucking takes over.
I’m literally buzzing standing on the other side of the table with my entire team in between us. I feel hot all over. My hands are sweating. The tips of my ears are burning. I feel disoriented.She’s like a real-life fever dream.
This started from the first moment I saw her. She knocked me on my ass as soon as those whiskey eyes pinned me in place. That sweet southern twang in her voice settled deep in my bones.
That sassy yet prim and proper attitude of hers hooked me. My heart damn near exploded in my chest and my throat closed up when she smiled at me. It was instant. I was immediately paralyzed. Sloane Higgins rendered me speechless and stupid. I haven’t been able to recover since. I’m in deep with this gorgeous girl.
She’s living, breathing proof that love at first sight exists. Since last August, no other girl matters in the slightest. No one compares to her. It’s the kind of attraction that drives men fucking mad and the kind of love that would start wars.
It doesn’t make a whole lot of sense to me. Honestly, I’ve considered getting my head checked once or twice over it. Until then, I’ve diagnosed myself with intense insta-infatuation. It’s clearly a real fucking thing and it’s plagued me since the start of last semester. Onset was fast and hard. Symptoms include being infatuated and fucking obsessed. The prognosis isn’t good andthere doesn’t seem to be a remedy available to make it go away.Seems terminal.
I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve actually spoken to her. We’ve been alone less than that. I’ve touched her twice. During a nightmare that I was wide awake for, I held her in my arms and clung to her hand for dear life. She brought me peace when my world was caving in.She’s that powerful.
These minor moments shouldn’t add up to the monumental feelings I have, but they do. I’m nuts over this girl and everyone knows it. They all see it. I couldn’t deny it if I tried. Doesn’t mean I’m going to do anything about it though. I can’t.I won’t.
The devil on my shoulder is fucking drooling and I don’t disagree.She looks good enough to eat.I get lost staring at her pretty mouth.Another symptom.He whispers a thousand depraved thoughts into my ear and images run through my head faster than any clocked mile I’ve run today. Her face is flawless with soft-looking skin and pink lips.The things I want to do to that mouth.
