Page 28

Chapter

Twenty-Three

The weeks after our weekend getaway passed in a blur. Equal parts adrenaline and caffeine to get me through my cramming for midterms after working with the Outlaws.

That first Tuesday with Lamont, the study session was at capacity, and it didn’t let up. The team was invested, and I could barely get to everything in the two hours allotted.

I thought up new lesson ideas when I knew I hadn’t gotten a concept across, then bolted to the library to get my own hours in.

To make matters worse, my mind didn’t love focusing on anything that wasn’t Chase related.

I couldn’t tell if not seeing him or sneaking glimpses of him during practice after our study sessions was worse.

Those moments dangled him in front of me when I couldn’t do anything about it.

I missed him so much it physically ached. Which was why when I saw Chase’s name in my inbox the Thursday before Nationals, I almost choked on my own spit.

Hey,

Would love to go over the numbers ahead of the weekend. You free tomorrow?

—C

I read it twice, my throat tightening. Numbers? I hadn’t talked with him in a couple of weeks, and he wanted to talk numbers?

Fine. I would talk numbers. I forgot all about why I’d decided not to reach out to Chase in the first place, why it didn’t make sense to pursue this, and started typing.

Sure. I’ll come to your office before the study session.

—M

I logged out of the computer and grabbed my bag, the line “What would Crystal do?” running through my head.

Time to pick out a good, tight tank top. Because I was showing up braless.

_____

My confidence had waned by at least sixty percent by the time I stood in front of Chase’s office. I straightened my shirt, then opened the door and walked in. His secretary wasn’t there, so I rounded the desk and found Chase’s door stood open.

“Hey.” He stood from his chair, still analyzing something on the paper in front of him. He finally set it down and looked up.

His eyes settled below my neck, flared, then flicked up to my face. I stifled a grin. That was so worth it.

“Hey.” I set my bag next to the chair. “Worried about Nationals?”

Chase’s jaw hung slack. “Uh . . . You look—I mean, sorry, I haven’t seen you in a minute and . . . “ He lifted his eyes, his throat working. “I’m having trouble not staring at your breasts.”

I pressed my lips together. Damn it. Why was he so . . . Chase? “I’m sorry.” I looked down at my nipples clearly visible through the fabric. “I was mad.”

His brows pulled together. “At me?”

“Yes, at you.” I put my hands on my hips, then thought better of it and crossed my arms over my chest. “You emailed me like I was just a—” I shook my head. “A colleague.”

Chase tapped his fingers on the desk. “But you left my room in Clearwater. You said?—”

“I know what I said.”

Chase cocked his head to the side, then rounded his desk and walked to the door. He flicked the lock, then reached for the hanging string at the edge of the blinds hanging over the glass and closed them.

When he turned to face me, his chest was heaving. “I was trying not to be obvious.”

I sucked in a breath, taking in his dilated pupils, the slight part of his lips. “You don’t want to talk about numbers?”

Chase shook his head. “No. I don’t want to talk about numbers.” He closed the distance between us in two strides, then pulled me against him, his lips crashing into mine.

Hell, yes. Every cell in my body lit up like a Christmas tree.

Chase ran his hands over my back, over my butt, then pulled me with him back to his chair.

He sat, pulling me into his lap. His hands gripped my hips as he kissed me, like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to pull me closer or hold me still.

I shifted forward, my thighs tightening against his as my hair fell on either side of his face.

I’d missed this. Missed him. The taste of his mouth. The smell of his skin. The way he made everything else in the world go blessedly quiet.

“Thank you. For fixing my car,” I rasped between kisses. I tugged at his lips with my teeth, working to unbutton his shirt.

“No problem.” He slid his hands under my shirt, hissing through his teeth when he didn’t meet any resistance moving north.

“We were stupid,” I murmured, kissing his jaw, nipping at his neck.

My head swirled, everything we’d talked about jumbling into a chaotic mess.

Chase wasn’t my professor, and who cared what my mom thought?

If she wanted to judge me, she could judge me, but nobody here besides Shar and Crystal knew that Chase was once my stepbrother.

And yes, it would royally suck if and when I left in the fall, but if Chase stayed—if he took Kaplan’s job for next year—we’d have all summer and probably fall semester even if I did get the scholarship. And that was a big if.

Chase grunted as I finally got his shirt open and ran my hands over his bare chest. “It’s stupid to not be together when I don’t even know if I’m going anywhere.” I threw my head back as Chase moved his lips to my neck, crushing me against him, rolling my hips.

“You’re going to go.” His voice rumbled in my chest.

“Not great odds and—” I whimpered as he slipped the strap of my tank top over my shoulder and kissed lower. This was what I needed. I couldn’t think past the feel of his hands, the heat of his breath. Couldn’t worry about midterms or summer work or extending my lease or?—

“You’ll get it.” He pushed my hair to the side, kissing his way back to my jaw.

“Maybe I don’t even want it anymore.”

As soon as the words left my lips, Chase stilled. He pulled back and looked up at me, his lips swollen, his eyes dark. “Don’t say that.”

I worked to catch my breath. “I was just thinking?—”

“I know what you were thinking.” Chase slid me back on his thighs. He replaced my tank top strap and rested his hands on my hips, then closed his eyes and drew a deep breath. “I’m sorry.” He exhaled in a rush.

“Sorry about what?” My pulse raced, a pit opening up in my stomach. “Chase?—”

“This is selfish of me.” He tapped my thigh and gently lifted me off him. When I stood, he adjusted himself and took a minute to breathe before standing. “You need to focus on your scholarship, and I?—”

“What?” I straightened my shirt, my eyes stinging. “Don’t tell me what I need to focus on.”

“Don’t change your plans because of me.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know where I’m going to be?—”

“But we both have choices. We can decide?—”

“You’ve already decided.”

“Partially.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You asked to tutor because you wanted this scholarship more than anything.”

“Not all of us only want one thing,” I snapped, and instantly regretted it. The sadness returned to Chase’s eyes, but anger welled in me so thick, I couldn’t soften enough to take it back.

Why was he being like this? For all his talk about not wanting, about letting things be what they were going to be, he was the one who emailed me. He obviously wanted something from this.

Chase dropped his eyes. “Well. I want you to get the Rhodes.”

I wet my lips. “And what about for you?”

His jaw tensed and released. “I need to work on some things for Nationals. I’m sorry?—”

I picked up my bag and stormed out of his office before he could finish that sentence.