By the time I get to Daddy’s for the night, I’m feeling a bit more put together. Chase isn’t coming for dinner, he has some business over in Nashville on Sundays. It’s a good thing he isn’t here. After the blowout with Jax, I need some breathing room. I’m getting lost in my feelings and forgetting how hard it was to find my way back last time.
But I guess my self-control is weak because I only make it through dinner before I give in to the urge to text him.
Me: I think Daddy misses you.
I press send and lay my head on the table, groaning. Why did I do that? My phone vibrates and my arm shoots out, scrambling to pick it up.
Chase: Just him?
My stomach flutters.
Me: Yep, just him. He’s pouting in his recliner as we speak. He’s gotten used to having you here and it doesn’t feel the same when you’re not.
I see the three dots appear and disappear over and over. Stupid, Lee. You’re stupid.
Chase: I miss you, too.
The butterflies jump into my throat. I wish he was here and that’s a dangerous thing for me to want. My mind goes back to the woman’s voice I heard at his place. Is he in a relationship? Is that why he went back?
Me: What’s in Nashville? Visiting friends?
I chew on my lip and spend the next ten minutes burning a hole through my phone with my eyes. He doesn’t respond and I start to curse my nosiness. Is he with her right now? Jealousy bubbles through my veins at the thought of some other woman getting all of his attention. Feeling his touch.
Me: Sorry, forget I asked. Not my business. Hope you have a good weekend.
I force myself to put my phone away. It’s not until that night when I’m lying in the guest room, trying to find Chase’s scent on the pillows, that I pull it back out to check.
Chase: You can ask me whatever you want. Have an early morning meeting with my therapist and then a group thing tomorrow night. Lots of that bullshit talking stuff you don’t like.
Relief floods my veins. A therapist. Does he talk about me? I shake my head at the thought. Why would he? We’re ancient history, and he definitely had a woman in his place last week. Heck, he moved on before we were even apart.
The thought’s a dagger to the heart.
Asshole.
Just like that, the anger I’ve been missing rears its head. The more I focus on our past, the more I realize how naive I’ve been. Jax is right. I’ve been so stupid, letting him play me like he hasn’t already broken all my strings.
I exit out of our text message and pull up Jax’s instead.
Me: Can we talk?
I wait all night, but there’s no reply.
35
Chase
This past weekend was a bit surreal. I’ve fallen into a new normal with Goldi and her dad. I went over there the first time because I could see the strain on Goldi’s face. Could sense it in the slump of her shoulders and the circles under her eyes. I just wanted to give her the night off, let her get some rest. I keep going because I can’t fucking help myself. I look forward to our conversations—even the ones with Mr. Carson. When he’s not sloshed beyond recognition, there are still hints of the real man underneath. Goldi’s still everything to me, and even though being around her is a bittersweet torture, I can’t help myself. I’m thrilled she’s been letting me help lighten her load.
When I answered the door on Friday and Jax was on the other side, it was a rainbow of emotion. I’ve missed my best friend, but my anger and jealousy knowing he has Goldi burns the sadness away. I don’t know what was said between them when they went out front, but inside, it was easy to hear the raised voices, muffled through the walls. Did she not tell him about me? The thought makes me feel dirty. Like a damn secret. For the first time, I think I may understand what Goldi felt like all those years ago when I kept our relationship hidden in the dark.
Needless to say, I’m more than fucking ready to see Doc. I have a thousand things to unload and even more for him to read from my journal. Hopefully, he can give me some guidance. Especially on the Marissa front. I’ve been getting messages from her since last Thursday. They started out innocent, asking how I was doing, wondering whether or not we could still be friends. I responded because I didn’t want to hurt her more than I already have. I figured if we could be friends, maybe it would lessen the sting of the breakup. I quickly realized my mistake when the messages started to escalate. I was in my hotel room getting ready to see Doc the first time she sent a picture of her pussy. What the fuck am I supposed to do with that? I erased the image and didn’t reply. More came in through the day, like clockwork—every hour on the hour—until I finally told her to knock it the fuck off.
I’ve been eager all weekend to get back to Sugarlake. Back to Goldi. Now that it’s Monday, I’m tempted to go straight to the studio where the guys are already working, but I need to stop at the office and do a few things first.
I’m rushing around, fumbling through the papers on my desk when Sam walks in. He makes himself comfortable on my office couch, crossing his ankle on his knee.
I give a wave. “Hey.”