Page 155 of Until Now

‘I’m so wounded. I fear I may never recover from your rejection.’

Chase sobers and quietly says, ‘You seem better these past few days. I’m glad to see it.’

I bite my lip, the spell of the moment gone. ‘Thank you for convincing me to stay. I’ll be out of your hair next week, I promise.’

‘You don’t have to be.’ I look at him in time to see his eyes flit to mine. Was he staring at my lips? He swallows. ‘I could drive you to and from work, but you could kip here if you’re not ready.’

‘Seriously?’ Another two weeks from Archer. Another two weeks around Chase. ‘Aren’t you sick of me?’

He snorts. ‘How do you know I’m not trying to make up a cover story so I can lure you back here and murder you?’

‘Since as you’ll be the last person to see me, you’ll be the most likely suspect.’

‘Not if I kill you on the drive home from your work.’

I consider. ‘Depends how you kill me, though. Are we talking asphyxiation? Stabbing? Dumping me in a tree and leaving me there? Because the last one, as we both know, is highly feasible.’

His body shakes with laughter. ‘How tall do you think I am that you wouldn’t be able to jump down from the tree?’

‘You’re, like, six foot.’

‘True, but you could still jump.’

I sit up, ready to argue. ‘You literally shoved me on the top of that tree in school.’

‘You were on my shoulders.’ His eyes are impossibly green in the light. ‘Are you seriously going to find every excuse to bring up how I nearly killed you putting you in a tree?’

‘So you did nearly kill me?’

‘I did plan on leaving you there, but I worried people would hear you screaming.’

‘You could have passed me off as a bird.’

‘If you were choking on another, smaller bird.’

I pinch his arm, and he laughs, a proper belly laugh. I grin at him—and then I bite my lip because I’m staring like a weirdo.

‘Do you like it in Provence?’ I ask suddenly. A selfish part of me hopes he’ll say no. Of course he doesn’t like it and he’s moving back here.

But he sighs and settles back against his pillows, resting his arms beneath his head. ‘Yeah. I like it a lot.’

I try to hide my disappointment. ‘What do you like most about it?’

‘The culture. The history. I didn’t appreciate art until I moved there, but it’s in everything.’

I’m wickedly relieved he didn’t say Genevieve. I turn onto my side, my hand beneath my head. ‘Are you enjoying it? Your apprenticeship, I mean.’ I don’t know why I’m asking these questions. There’s just something warming watching him talk about things he’s passionate about. A certain glow radiates from him; an animation I rarely see.

Chase wiggles his brows at me. ‘I’m not an apprentice anymore, baby.’

It takes me a moment to grasp what he means. And when I do, I gasp with delight, because I want him to be happy and fulfilled.

‘May I remind you that you’re sharing a bed with an official race car mechanic of Ford.’

‘Do you want me to get on my knees and lick your ass or something?’

‘That would be a start.’

I laugh. ‘Congrats. I’m really happy for you.’ I open my mouth to ask something else but he says, ‘You should come visit sometime.’

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