Page 52 of Love Undercover
He took a deep breath. “Before we get into it, I need. . . I can’t concentrate. . .”
He pushed away, stalking across the room and raking his hands through his hair again. She regretted the return of the tension in his body. But if she was this ready to jump into bed with him, she needed to know.
20
Confession
Chase tried to focus on the facts rather than the way her question made his insides twist. Everything in him fought against telling her, revealing this part of himself—his past. He never wanted to tell anyone, but the thought of tellingher, of changing what she might think of him had a whirlwind of anxiety building inside he tried to banish with his pacing.
He needed to be open about it, owed her a measure of trust to match what she’d extended to him. Not just because of what would come next, what he would ask of her when he enacted his plan. But because this wasn’t some random fling for him. Not any more. And he suspected it wouldn’t be for her either. She wasn’t the type.
She was the marrying type.
That stopped him in his tracks. Because it was true. She had this hastiness about her, a wildness that made her say and do things without a lot of thought. But she was also sweetand wholesome, committed to her passions. She was absolutely the bring-home-to-mom type. The settle-down-and-have-babies type.
The realization knocked the wind out of him. Because damn if he didn’t find a part of himself wanting that life. But that wasn’t something he’d ever let himself dream about before. Because of the job. Because of who he was. Who his father was.
But he ached at the thought of denying himself a real life forever. Denying himself what he could have. . . maybe with her. Even now, his body craved to feel her for real, to know what it was to see all of her, experience all of her. She’d opened parts of her heart and mind to him, revealing what a passionate woman she was. He realized that his world had shifted, tilted by her honesty and warmth.
Especially after her words that afternoon.
He swallowed, remembering the way that felt—to be validated for once. Somewhere inside of him, a little child was sighing in relief. After all those years of his father’s berating dismissals, pushing Chase to the edge of his capabilities, he felt some small thing release in himself.
“Chase?” she said softly.
He cleared his throat and turned as she pushed away from the wall. She’d been frozen like she’d been afraid to move until now. Even still, she was cautious as she came to sit on the couch, curling up and tucking her legs under herself. The way she looked so much like she belonged there squeezed his heart, and that flash of another life hit him again.
What was happening to him?
He kept his features neutral, but the storm had started inside. Panic, if he had to name it. But years of practice kept him from drowning under that feeling.
He sat next to her on the couch, slouching like there was no internal war going on.
She picked up his hand again, inspecting the knuckles. “I forgot about these.”
“We were a little distracted.”
She smirked at his reply and lifted the bottle she still held. How she’d had the wherewithal to hang onto it during their moment was baffling to him.
As she looked at the cuts on his hand, he remembered the tender kiss she’d placed there. He swallowed as a warmth spread through him. The storm inside him sputtered and died out. Which would’ve scared him more if her touch wasn’t such a balm to his nerves.
“You’re not talking.” She glanced up from under her lashes, her golden eyes glittering. Then she frowned as she straightened his arms, resting his hands on her lap.
A tight ball formed in his gut, and it threatened to lodge in his throat, keep him from telling her anything. How did one lay out the entirety of their nuanced and messy history?
“Did you know much about me back in high school?” he finally asked.
“Other than you being the much-lauded but obviously very shy basketball star? Not much.” She shrugged. “When I knew my dad was stationed somewhere temporarily, I tended to keep myself disconnected from whatever was going on around me.”
“Did that happen a lot?”
She gave him a sly look as she pulled the cap from the spray bottle. “Uh uh. We’re not talking about me this time. It’s the Chase show tonight.”
Unexpected affection pulled a smirk across his lips. “Remember that observation about me being camera-shy?” he countered, though the effort was useless.
She raised a brow, looking like the stern teacher she was. No sassing Ms. Powell. That look must have slayed in the classroom because it cut right through him.
His next words poured out of him because of it. “It was during that time that my father was indicted for racketeering and fraud.”
