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twenty-seven

Chase

I’m lying on my back and staring at the ceiling with her fingertips trailing across my chest. The hour is late, and we’ve had an eventful night with dinner, a movie, and plenty of steamy moments in between before we took it to the bedroom.

We’ve been together every night this week.

I feel renewed and happy, as if something was missing in my life until now.

My arm is wrapped around her bare shoulder, pulling her closer against me as my lips find her forehead.

“What are you thinking about?” I ask.

“This,” she says simply, tilting her head up to look at me.

“Oh yeah? What about this?” I implore.

“Hooking up with Chase Thorne wasn’t on my bingo card.”

“You have a bingo card?” I tease.“Is it like a bucket list?”

“You know what I mean. In some ways, you are family. And now, here we are. We just did the naked dance together.”

“Did you like me, you know, really like me, when we were growing up? Was this something that was to go on a list like this?” I ask curiously.

“It’s no secret that you were attractive. You were popular, and I was the younger, sometimes nerdy, little sister-type. I think everyone liked you in one way or another.”

“Yeah, but what about you?”

“Yeah, sure. I guess.” She shrugs, non-committal.

“You guess?”

“Sure. I liked you, but again, you were Ethan’s friend. You were the popular kid. I was the bookworm, the brainy kid who was in the background until you both went off to college.”

“So you had a crush on me?” I probe.

“Are you needing an ego boost?” she sits up and playfully glares. “It’s not as if you liked me.”

“Nah. You were like my little sister.” I grin.

“Ugh, you’re impossible.” She moves to get up, but I pull her back against me. She falls against my chest, and I cradle her face. I lift her chin and take her lips, opening her mouth and devouring her to show her just how much of a little sister she is not to me.

“It’s not like that anymore,” I say into the kiss as she smiles and rolls over on top of me.

“It better not be.” She returns, her pussy sliding against my erect cock. “But right now, I want food.”

“I can give you something just as good to satiate you.” I kiss her cheek and move to her neck.

“Food. I want actual food. This I can have later.” She pushes up and away from me, leaving me groaning as I watch her hips sway into the bathroom adjoining my bedroom. She returns a moment later and picks up my shirt from the night before, and puts it on.

I sit up. Seeing her in my shirt makes me want to lay her out and fuck her until she screams my name. I want to claim her, make her mine, and ruin her for any other man. Instead, she doesn’t put on any underwear and walks down the hallway and out of sight.

I walk into the kitchen and see her standing at the threshold of the fridge with the light illuminating her body.

The shirt cuts off just below her ass, showcasing her long legs, making the sight before me one for the record books.

“You’re going to be the death of me, looking that way in my clothes. ”

She looks over her shoulder, her dark brown wavy hair flowing down her back, and a shit-eating grin on her face that makes me weak in the knees.

“You have no food in this house,” she states.

“I eat out a lot. And what I do have is minimal. Proteins and greens. What do you want? I can have food delivered, anything that you want.”

“I want French toast.”

“Okay. Let me go get my phone.” I turn on my heel and head back into my bedroom, pick up from phone from the side table, and open up a webpage for one of my favorite breakfast restaurants. I click on the contact area, and my phone dials.

I order her French toast and myself a breakfast burrito, then return to the kitchen.

“Breakfast will be here in twenty minutes.”

“Oh? Thank you. We could have gone out.”

“Yeah, we could have. But that would have entailed you getting dressed, and I rather enjoy seeing you in my clothes.” I cornered her against the counter.

“What’s your favorite color, Chase?” she asks, placing her hands on my forearms.

“Hmmm.” I run my tongue against the front of my teeth and take a moment to think about it for a moment. “You know, it’s been a while since someone has asked me that. I would have to go with a greyish blue.”

“Greyish blue. That’s pretty specific.”

“It’s not an in-your-face blue. It’s muted and not showy. I don’t know. I just like it. What about you?”

“I’m pretty partial to salmon.”

“That’s a fish, not a color.”

“No. It’s a color, too. It’s pinkish orange, just like the fish, but it’s still a color.”

“I’ll have to believe you on that one.”

“Okay, let me think. Do you think pineapple belongs on pizza?”

“No,” I respond immediately.

“No?” she looks shocked. “Have you ever had it? It’s so delicious.”

“Fruit doesn’t belong on pizza. It’s just weird. It’s unnatural.” I shake my head.

“Do you have any hobbies?” she asks.

“I mean, there’s baseball. But that’s also my job. Um, I enjoy playing pool. I enjoy swimming. And I like to read. In the off-season, I read a lot. I’m what you would call a bibliophile . My turn. What is a secret that no one else knows?”

“Well then, it wouldn’t be a secret, would it?”

“Oh, come on. This is where we get to know one another. You tell me a secret and I’ll tell you one of mine,” I promise.

“Well. I don’t know,” she hesitates.

“But you get one of my secrets in trade,” I repeat.

She quirks an eyebrow, the sighs. “In college, not too long after my nasty breakup, I went through an adventurous stage.”

“What does that mean?” I ask.

“I dated a few girls. One of them, kind of seriously.”

“Wait. Really? How serious?”

“We openly dated for the entire school year. Broke up right before summer.”

“Why did you break up?” I ask.

“She was being transferred to another school. We didn’t want to do the whole long-distance thing.”

“That’s pretty hot.”

“Two women dating?”

“Just the visual that I got in my head.”

“You don’t even know what my ex looked like.”

“I don’t need to. I’ve seen girl-on-girl porn.” She playfully swats at me.

“Okay, so now you know my secret. What’s yours?”

“I mean, yours shouldn’t be a secret. Be proud to be with whoever you are. Don’t hide that shit.”

“You know how conservative my dad is. I don’t think that his little girl dating another girl would be accepted.”

“That’s his loss. I think it’s beautiful.” I smile.

“You’re deflecting. Tell me your secret.”

“Okay, well, mine is a little more scandalous than yours is.”

“Alright, continue.”

“I got injured last season, basically had to ride the bench for the majority. And so, because I couldn’t do a lot of the standard training that we did, my schedule was a little light. And as I told you, I like to read. Well, I was in between books and wanted to try something.”

“I’m on pins and needles here.” She teases.

“I’m getting to it. So, I had some random idea in my head for a while about what I wanted to read in a book, but also go out of my comfort zone. So, long story short. I wrote a book.”

“You wrote a book. What kind of book?”

I cough and say the genre through the sound, only to have her look at me with an evil glare.

“Romance,” I say, my voice above a whisper.

“You wrote a romance book?”

“I did.” I nod.

She smiles widely. “Can I read it?”

“Nah, I would rather you not.”

“Why?” she crosses her arms over her chest.

“It’s embarrassing.”

“Why on Earth would it be embarrassing to write a romance novel? Romance is the number one read genre out of everything. Do you know how popular it is? And holy crap, is it published?”

“It is,” I confirm.

“Paperback or ebook?”

“Are you a reader?” I ask.

“I am.”

“Of romance?” I clarify.

“And thrillers, post-apocalyptic. But romance is my favorite. Oh my gosh, maybe I read your book. Do you write under a pen name?” she asks, ducking underneath my arms and around the kitchen counter.

“Where are you going?” I ask.

She makes a beeline for the bookshelves in my office. I follow behind her and see her running her finger along the edges of the books. My heart is beating rapidly as she browses.

“You have a lot of romance novels here.” She observes.

“I’ve got some other stuff, too.” I defend.

She’s getting closer, and as soon as she sees the many copies that are there, she will no doubt find my book. No one has ever looked too closely at my bookshelves. I never thought that this moment would come.