Page 48 of Beneath the Stars (Sugarlake 1)

“What do you mean you’re moving?”

Marissa sits across from me, her olive skin glowing in the candlelight. I took her out to dinner at her favorite restaurant, hoping that bringing her here would soften the blow. Maybe give her less inclination to cause a scene.

“I mean, my family needs me. It’s not a decision I take lightly. I know what I’ll be giving up here.”

“And what exactly is that?” She crosses her arms.

“My career for starters.”

Her lips pinch as she looks down at the table, and I feel like an asshole for springing this on her. I didn’t give Sam an answer right away, even though my knee-jerk reaction was to scream “no” from the rooftops. I owed it to him to think on it, talk to my shrink about it. Internally panic and then calm myself down a million times before finally coming to a decision.

So what if I’d have to give up my current career? It was my original plan to take over the company from Sam, anyway. I didn’t have to stop seeing Doc or running my Nar-Anon meetings. Nashville is only a two-hour drive, not unmanageable once a week. And Marissa…

I grab her hand across the table. “Listen, Sugarlake’s two hours away, not across the country. If you still want to see each other, I’m open to that. But I’ll be honest, Marissa. I won’t have a lot of time. My days are gonna be filled with learning the ropes of Sam’s company, bonding with the employees, working with them.”

She nods. “I understand that. I guess I’m just a little shocked. I thought you hated your hometown, and now all of a sudden you’re just picking up and leaving to go back? I don’t get it.”

I’m not surprised she thinks that. Talking about Sugarlake is a hard limit for me. I shake my head. “I don’t hate it. There are just memories I’d rather leave in the past there.”

“What kind of memories?”

“The painful kind.” I sip my drink, needing the burn of bourbon to chase away the bitter taste of Goldi. And Jax. And Lily.

I haven’t opened up to Marissa about my past. Fucking has always been the focal point of our relationship. Nothing other than scratching the itch, and abating the loneliness. We’ve enjoyed each other’s company, and there’s no reason to take it deeper. Until recently, she seemed on board with that.

She peers at me from over her wine glass. Her ruby-red lips part, giving me a glimpse of her blinding-white smile. “You’re right. Two hours isn’t much. Barely counts as long distance. I wish you’d ask me to go with you, but I understand your need to do this on your own.”

Her statement surprises the fuck out of me. She wishes I’d ask her to go with me? I rack my brain trying to think of when I gave her the inclination I’d be open to that. It’s hard enough to keep myself convinced to go—let alone take along the woman I’ve been holding at arm’s length for three years.

She pushes her glossy black hair behind her shoulder. “Besides, it could be fun. I’ll visit on weekends and get to know your roots.”

I clear my throat, uncomfortable at the turn in our conversation. “Yeah, sure.”

“Do you still have friends that live there?” She asks, cocking her head to the side.

Her question is a lead weight dropping in my stomach. “Uhh… I’m not sure. I didn’t exactly leave on good terms.” See, Doc? This is why avoidance works so well. So I don’t have to feel this.

“Hmm…” She takes another sip of wine. I follow suit, swallowing down more bourbon.

“Any high school sweethearts?”

My jaw clenches as my fingers tighten around my glass. My heart tries to beat out of my fucking chest at the mere thought of Goldi still being there. The idea of seeing her again has my stomach in knots and a balloon of hope expanding inside me. I’m not naive enough to assume I could get her back. I met her at the wrong time in my life and fucked it up before I could love her the way she deserved. Besides, I’m not the same person I was back then—not sure our connection would even exist with who we are now. But the urge to see her is strong.

I lift my shoulders. “Maybe, but I’m not sure she’s still around.”

Marissa straightens, tension evident in her posture. “She? So just one, then.”

Another gulp of bourbon. “Yep. Just the one.”

“How long were you two together?”

“What is this, twenty fucking questions?” I snap. Marissa’s eyes widen and she deflates, leaning back in her chair.

“Jesus, Chase. I’m just curious. You never bring up your past. Forgive me for trying to get to know the man I’m with a little better.”

“Shit, I’m sorry. I just… talking about the past is hard for me.”

She gives me a soft smile, but I see the questions in her eyes. “It’s okay, I shouldn’t have pushed. I know it’s a sensitive subject for you. Just promise me once you move back, you won’t shut me out. Promise you’ll let me experience this new stage of your life with you.”

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