Page 22

Chapter

Seventeen

The door opened, and I clutched the key card like a rosary.

Chase stepped back, pulling the door wide. "Were you leaving?"

"How did you know I was here?"

"I heard the elevator ding and checked."

He heard the ding? I glanced over my shoulder. That meant the walls were thin. Not that I thought we would, or that I would?—

The elevator dinged again, and I launched myself into his room, flattening myself against the wall as he closed the door. "Sorry. I didn't want anyone to see me."

Chase leaned back against the door, folding his arms over his chest. "Am I that embarrassing to you?"

I blew out a puff of air, and then just like it had in the study room, the dam to my thoughts opened. "We kissed."

Chase nodded gravely. "We did."

"We didn't talk about it."

He ran a hand over the back of his neck. "Did you want to talk about it? Because you bolted?—"

"I know. I didn't want to talk about it then."

"But you do, now?"

I nodded. "I have to know. Are you doing this because I'm—" My throat worked.

Because I'm a total nerd and don't know anything about sex and look totally desperate?

Pathetic? "I know about your mom," I blurted.

Chase's eyes widened, but I didn't let him interject.

"My mom said something about her being in prison, and I swear, I had no idea.

" I walked into the room and sat on the end of the bed.

"She said you took this job because your dad had some connection, which I'm sure you hated since I know how you feel about your dad.

Or felt, I guess. And then Sharla said you might be leaving at the end of the semester, so I know you might not be in the best place right now. "

Chase leaned against the TV stand. "Well. That's?—"

"And you already know how I felt in high school, and now that you eavesdropped?—"

"I wasn't trying to eavesdrop."

"Well, you weren't not trying."

He sighed, giving me that. "You already gave me the gist of all that the other day."

"Not all of it. And not like that."

Chase pushed off the wooden stand and crossed to sit next to me on the bed. "I didn't give you that card so we could have sex." He pressed his hands into his knees. "Not that I wouldn't want to. You do have?—"

"If you say a sweet, sweet ass, I'm going to walk out right now."

Chase laughed. "I was going to say you have a beautiful body."

I blinked. That was . . . unexpectedly kind. Gentle. Not at all like the comments I got from guys on campus. Was this what happened? Men grew up between twenty-one and twenty-four?

"What you said. In the parking lot. I get that."

I swallowed. "Which part?"

He turned his head to look at me. "When you said you didn't know if there was anything else underneath."

His eyes were the same beautiful blue, but there was a sadness there, rippling under the surface. Had I noticed that before?

"You say you idolized me, but I don't think that's true." He leaned back, resting on his elbows. "You always called me out on my shit."

"Math shit. That was the only kind of shit."

He laughed. "That's not true. Remember when you told me I needed to go to bed early because I had a tryout the next day?"

My face screwed up in confusion. "No. When did I?—"

"You did it all the time. I'd be there after school, you'd be making your peanut butter and honey sandwich, and you'd ask me what I was doing that week.

I'd tell you I had practice or a tournament or whatever, and then you'd ask if I needed food or if I was getting enough sleep.

Then you'd tell me not to be an idiot and party all weekend, or that I looked better in grey instead of black, or?—"

"Chase. That was me rambling because I didn't know how to talk to you."

He stared up at the ceiling. "I know. But it made me feel like someone cared." His tongue flicked over his lips. "It's why I came back on Saturday mornings. I liked seeing you." He turned, his eyes wide. "Not that I—I didn't think about you like that. You were younger than me, and I never?—"

I laughed. "Trust me. If anyone was the perv in our weird little world, it was me."

He watched me smooth the hem of my shirt, then smiled when I met his gaze. "When I saw you in the stands and then at Ranchman's?—"

"You saw me before Ranchman's?"

He nodded. "I saw you at every game."

Okay. That was . . . information.

"Every time I saw you, it was like something released in my chest. Like—" His expression tightened as he searched for the words.

"It sounds stupid because it's not like we ever talked after I left, but it felt like I still knew you.

And as you just outlined, my life is a bit shit right now. So that felt good."

I gaped at him. "Your life is not shit."

"You don't have to--"

"No, I'm serious." I spun to face him, crossing my legs under me. "You finished school. You've got a coaching job. Yeah, your family sucks, but that's not your life, Chase. You left and actually made something of yourself."

He gave a sardonic laugh. "I failed at the one thing I was good at."

"What, hockey?"

"Yeah. Hockey."

"Chase, there were, what, fifty or sixty thousand kids playing hockey when you were? All trying to make it? The WHL takes a hundred and fifty, maybe, and then from there?—"

"I know math makes you feel better, Maddie, but my brain doesn't work like that." He folded an arm behind his head and lay back. "I had a shot. I blew it."

"Or you were good enough to get a damn shot."

He shrugged. I twirled his key card in my hand then dropped it on his stomach. "So why did you give me this?"

He met my eyes but didn't speak for a moment. When he did, his voice was low. "Because I'm lonely. And I think you are, too."

I swallowed, dropping my gaze. "So . . . what? We just talk?"

Chase's mouth twitched. "Or study."

My cheeks heated. "I don't even know what that would look like."

He picked up the key and reached across the bed, setting it on the nightstand. "That's okay. Because I do."

_____

I lay on the bed as Chase turned out the lights. "Is this really necessary?"

"Yep. You're an overthinker. You need less stimuli."

I snorted. "Very scientific." It was kind of adorable that he was taking this seriously. "But the problem isn't in what I can see. It's in my head."

The lights flicked off, and I held my breath, trying to figure out where he was. The mattress moved, and he shifted to sit next to me. "Are you the tutor here or am I?"

I blew out a shaky breath. "I thought you said you were only good at hockey."

"I lied. I'm also excellent at jumping into stupid shit I shouldn't because I don't overthink it."

"Like right now?"

"Right. That enough proof for you?"

It was. Surprisingly. I didn't think I'd jumped into anything.

Not even a pool. I always dangled my legs over the edge and then, maybe, fifteen minutes later, I'd lower myself in.

Chase on the other hand had jumped off the gym roof into the back of a dump truck filled with old foam from the gymnastics centre when it changed locations.

"So what are you?—"

"Nope. No questions." Chase's hand caught my wrist, and I sucked in a breath. "If you catch yourself trying to figure something out, just focus on what you feel."

"But—"

"Trust me, Maddie."

My breathing came in quick bursts as he flipped my hand and drew his fingers over the inside of my arm. "We're going to start small. All you have to do is focus on this touch. If any other thought comes in your head, say, 'no thank you' and refocus."

"I'll try."

His fingers trailed over the sensitive skin on the inside of my elbow, then up to the sleeve of my shirt before turning around and retracing their path.

He found my wrist, my palm, then played with the ring around my finger.

My brows pinched. The last person I wanted to be thinking of right now was my dad.

His other hand held mine. Was he watching me? Could he see better than I could somehow? Did he enjoy touching me, or—? No, thank you. I focused back on his fingers, now looping in slow, lazy circles.

"Do you like this?" he asked.

"Yes." It was true. I did like it. But I was also aching for him to touch more of me.

"Where else do you want me to touch?" he asked, as if he were reading my mind. "Don't think. Just say it."

"My stomach." Heat flashed in my face. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't?—"

"That's a perfect answer," he murmured, and that heat turned molten as Chase's fingers left my hand and reached for my shirt.

Normally, this was where I would shut down.

Where my skin would go cold and I'd grit my teeth and nod and say I liked it when really, I was spiralling.

Hard. Was my skin soft? Was my stomach flabby?

Did he like what he saw? What were my hands doing?

I probably looked like a zombie. Was I supposed to be touching him?

"No, thank you."

Chase's hand froze. "Do you?—"

"No! Sorry, I was saying it. To my thoughts." My face screwed up with embarrassment, but before I could apologize again, Chase's lips brushed my cheek. "You're so good at this already."

Then his hand was back at the hem of my shirt. He lifted before I could process what just happened. Was he . . . complimenting me? On making a complete fool of myself?

"You're beautiful, Maddie. You don't need to worry so much about what men think.

" I gasped as his hand flattened over my stomach.

"But maybe they've just never told you, so I'll give you some examples.

" He moved over my skin, his fingers rising and falling over my ribs.

"Your skin looks silky, and now I can say officially that it feels better than it looks, but it's so smooth and golden. "

The mattress shifted, and by the angle of his arm, I could tell he was lying on his stomach.

"And your hips, how they curve into your waist. It's like a—" his breath tickled my skin, making it prickle with gooseflesh. "What do you call it? A parabola?"

Okay. He got major points for that one. I couldn't keep my hand on the quilt for a second longer.

I lifted it, feeling for him. When I found his shoulder, I moved up until my fingers were in his hair.

My exhale shook as his hand curled around my waist and his lips brushed my stomach. "Thinking anymore?"

"Hm." It was more a whimper than a word, and Chase smiled against my skin.

"You'll have to try that again. I couldn't hear you."

"No," I said, breathless. Again, it was the truth. Somehow, my world had shrunk. Everything beyond this cocoon where he and I existed had faded, leaving only the heat of his hand, the moisture from his breath cooling on my skin.

He pressed up, moving further up the bed. My hand followed, still splayed through his hair. "Then this was a successful lesson." He settled next to me on his side and pulled my shirt down, then draped his arm over me.

I opened my eyes even though it was still pitch black and I couldn't see anything. I wanted to thank him, but the words felt final, and I wasn't ready for this to end. "Can we just lie here a minute?" I whispered.

He nodded against my hand, then settled in on the pillow next to me, and my arm found residence in the space between his shoulder and jaw as I turned to face him.

He slipped his leg between mine and pulled me closer.

I shut my eyes, curling my other arm into my chest as Chase's hand left my waist to run over the knuckles of my spine.

I drew in a long breath, exhaled, then drew another, barely catching his, "Goodnight, Maddie girl," before I dropped under.