Page 37 of Beneath the Stars (Sugarlake 1)

I look down at my phone, pulling up Goldi’s name and pressing call. I just need to explain. She’ll understand.

She has to understand.

The phone rings, but her voicemail picks up. I try Jax next. No answer.

Shit.

I open up my text messages.

Goldi: I’m sorry about earlier, It’s just hard with you being gone.

Jax: Hey, bro. Excited for you to be back! Whoop! Let’s chill tomorrow after you get your Alina time.

Goldi: Are you almost here? We need to leave soon for the rec hall.

Goldi: Chase. Answer your phone!

Goldi: I’m having Jax take me. If I wait any longer, I’ll be late.

Jax: Dude. Where the fuck are you?

Goldi: I’m done.

This is bad. This is really fucking bad.

I go to my call log next. Most of them are from Goldi. My eyebrows furrow as I realize there’s a string of them during the time of the recital. I keep scrolling.

Jax.

Jax.

Jax.

Becca.

I stop short, my thumb hovering over the screen. Why the fuck did Becca call?

I go to my voicemail and skip to the one from her, pressing play.

“You know, I’ve met a lot of assholes in my life, but you really take the cake. You better stay gone, Chase Adams. Do you hear me? I don’t want to ever see your face around here again.”

Becca’s always been a bitch, but her reaction to a missed recital is alarming. I move on to the most recent message from Jax.

“I tried, Chase. I really tried to give you the benefit of the doubt. I watched as you made fucked-up choice after fucked-up choice, and I always stood back. But this… you better call me back, bro.”

I’m definitely missing something.

I try Alina again as I pull on the first pair of jeans I find, and a black tee. She doesn’t answer, so I pull up Facebook, desperate to find some clue as to why everyone’s freaking the fuck out. Lindsay sashays back into my room, two mugs of coffee in her hands. I don’t look up. My eyes are too busy staring at the photo on my timeline. My stomach bottoms out so fast it makes me dizzy. I collapse onto the bed.

“Here’s your coffee, Chase.” Lindsay sets the mug on the nightstand. I grab her wrist, holding her in place.

She tries to wrench it from my grasp, but I tighten my grip. “Lindsay, what have you done?”

She peeks at my phone screen, a smirk taking over her face. “We look good in your bed, don’t we? Honestly, Chase, I was tired of waiting for you to man up and make a move. I figured a little push in the right direction was needed. Get that lapdog of a girlfriend out of the way so you wouldn’t have to pretend anymore.”

My mouth parts in shock. “You posted this so Goldi would see?”

She smirks. “A girl can hope.”

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