Текст книги "Emancipating Andie"

Автор книги: Priscilla Glenn

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Текущая страница: 10 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

CHAPTER TWELVE

Chase sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the cell phone in his hands.

He wanted to call her.

He had pulled up her number three times, but he couldn’t bring himself to press send. He had no idea what he would even to say to her. What he did know was that he hated the way he had left things off with her the night before.

He never meant to invade her privacy that night in South Carolina, but once he started reading, he couldn’t stop. Her words manipulated him, drawing him in and pushing him away, intriguing him, riveting him, enticing him. He knew on some level that he was trespassing, that he was learning her with every word, that he was privy to her mind as she lay sleeping next to him, and he felt his blood race through his veins with the intimacy of it. He drank her words with fervor, and when they ended abruptly in the middle of a chapter, instead of feeling sated, he felt ravenous.

He inhaled slowly, bringing her number up on the screen one more time. He shouldn’t have told her the way he did, but being so close to her again, feeling her hands on him, her eyes on him, made him want to rip down all of the bullshit walls they were both hiding behind. He just wanted to say everything he was feeling, everything he’d been thinking for weeks.

But he knew that he wouldn’t.

So he had been honest with her in the only way he could at that moment, and the look on her face after he had confessed what he’d done had threatened to completely rid him of his already rapidly deteriorating self-control.

So he left.

Like a coward.

Leaving her to try and make sense of everything on her own.

Chase brought his thumb to the send button. He just wanted to hear her voice again, to tell her he was sorry that he upset her, even though he knew he’d never be sorry for reading it.

He exhaled heavily, moving his thumb to the right and hitting the button to clear the screen instead. With an irritated shake of his head, he tossed the phone onto the tangled sheets next to him, catching sight of the stack of pictures on the small table next to his bed. He reached over, flipping through them quickly until he found the one he wanted.

She was laughing; her hair was windblown, little tendrils curling and whipping around her face as she glanced over at the camera, at him.

It was the picture he’d taken when he told her he wanted evidence of the day she threw caution to the wind, the day she took him to Tybee Island. With a heavy sigh, he fell back onto his bed, placing the picture on his chest as he closed his eyes, wishing he could go back to that point in time.

He hated it, this unsatisfied feeling of wanting, the constant thoughts of her that consumed him. Chase knew what the problem was; he never held back like this, never kept himself from what he wanted, at least not anymore, and so he had no coping strategies to fall back on.

Chase’s eyes flipped open as he heard the muffled ringing of his phone, and he sat up quickly, rifling through the sheets until his hand wrapped around it, trying to smother the tiny ember of hope that it would be her.

Incoming call from Tyler.

He closed his eyes and shook his head slightly before he hit the button to take the call.

“Tyler,” Chase said into the phone.

“Hey man, what’s going on?”

“Nothing, just trying to figure out some shit for work,” Chase said, standing from the bed and running his hand through his hair. He reached down and grabbed the picture of Andie. “What are you up to?”

“Me and Matt are heading down to Ripley’s to shoot some pool. You wanna meet us down there?”

Chase stared at Andie’s face before he lifted his eyes, catching sight of his image in the mirror; his shoulders were slumped, his face miserable as he clutched the photo of her.

Pathetic.

He shook his head at his reflection before he leaned over and slid her picture underneath the stack of photographs, the metaphor not lost on him. He was burying it, just like he would try to bury this feeling, until he had completely forgotten about both.

And he would start tonight.

“Ripley’s?” Chase said. “I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

“There’s no way you’re making this,” Matt said, gesturing toward the table with his bottle before he took a long swig of beer.

Chase laughed as he leaned over the table, lining up the shot. “You wanna make this interesting?”

“Hell yes, I do,” Matt said. “There’s no fucking way. If you make this shot, I’ll buy your drinks for the rest of the night.”

Chase smiled, lifting his eyes from the shot for a second to look at his friend. “Careful, Matty,” he said. “I think I’m getting a taste for some Macallan. Or maybe a little Dalmore Sixty-Two.”

Matt stared blankly at him. “What the hell does that even mean?”

Chase burst out laughing. “Dalmore is quality scotch. That shit will cost you about sixty grand a bottle. You never heard of it? Get some fucking class,” he said, bringing his eyes back to the table. He tried to ignore his friends’ laughter as he lined up his shot, sliding the cue slowly between his fingers. He stilled, taking a breath before he thrust it forward, sending the cue ball spinning across the table. It banked off the opposite end of the table and spun to the right, barely missing Matt’s four ball and tapping the side of the eight ball, sending it gliding into the side pocket.

“Fuck yes!” Chase shouted, pointing at his friend who stood there speechless with his jaw dropped.

“Holy shit,” Tyler laughed. “I can’t believe you just pulled that off.”

“I can’t believe I have to buy this asshole a glass of sixty-thousand-dollar scotch,” Matt said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Chase walked over and clapped him on the back. “Why don’t we start with a Heineken,” he grinned, twirling the cue between his fingers as he walked back toward the other side of the table. As he reached for the chalk, his eyes fell on a girl sitting at the bar. She was looking at him, and the second they made eye contact, she smiled shyly, looking away.

Chase kept his eyes on her as he chalked the cue; she had turned away from him slightly, her wavy red hair shielding her face from him, and his eyes dropped to take in the rest of her. She was wearing black pants and a green shirt that fit her just right. He could see that her stomach was flat, that her chest swelled nicely before it was concealed by the length of her hair. He lifted his eyes back to her face just as she tucked the curtain of red behind her ear, glancing again in his direction. She smiled again, her face flushing slightly as she looked away.

“Alright, Heineken it is,” Matt sighed, walking past Chase.

“Hold up,” Chase said, taking the twenty out of Matt’s hand. “I’ll get the drinks. You rack.” He grabbed the triangle off the side of the table and tossed it to his friend as he walked toward the bar.

He kept to the right, leaving several chairs between him and the girl. He could see her out of the corner of his eye, stealing glances at him as he waited.

“What can I get you?”

“Can I get three Heinekens?”

“Yup,” the bartender said as he turned and reached into the cooler, grabbing three bottles.

As he placed them on the bar, Chase asked, “That redhead down at the other end, do you know what she’s drinking?”

The bartender glanced discreetly in her direction, and Chase smiled at his skill. “Shiraz,” he said, looking up at Chase.

He nodded, reaching in his back pocket for his wallet. “And send her a glass of Shiraz, please.”

“You got it,” he said, taking the money Chase handed him.

He left a generous tip on the bar before he grabbed the three bottles, cocking his head over his shoulder as he walked back to the pool table. He saw the bartender place the glass of red wine down in front of her and say something, gesturing with his head in Chase’s direction. She turned, a slow smile curving her lips as she made eye contact with him.

“Thank you,” she mouthed, and Chase winked, smiling when he saw her cheeks flush a shade of red that rivaled her hair.

“Alright man, see you in a few,” he heard Matt say, and he turned his head in his friend’s direction just in time to see him end the call and put his phone back in his pocket.

“Who was that?” he asked, handing Matt one of the beers.

“Colin. He’s on his way here.”

Chase froze. At the mention of his name, he felt something welling in the pit of his stomach. Something he hadn’t felt in years, because he made no apologies for himself anymore.

He dropped his head, exhaling softly.

He hadn’t seen Colin since Florida, and tonight was not the night he wanted to see him again. He was trying to get his mind off of everything, and the last thing he needed was a flesh and blood reminder of why he couldn’t have what he wanted.

A reminder of what a shitty friend he had become.

“Break,” Chase said to Tyler as he picked up his cue, trying to rid himself of the irritating feeling in his stomach.

Grow up, he thought, taking a swig of his beer. This won’t be awkward unless you make it awkward.

A few minutes later, he heard the door swing open, and he glanced up, catching sight of Colin walking through the door. And at that moment, he knew it wouldn’t be nearly as bad as he thought it would be.

It was going to be a hundred times worse.

Because right behind him, her hair loose and wild, her cheeks flushed with cold and her hand clasped in his, was Andie.

He longed for the uneasiness he felt before; it would have been much preferred to the nausea that now rolled through him. He stood quickly, turning away from the door and bringing the bottle to his lips, taking down the rest of his beer.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Colin! What’s up,” he heard Tyler say behind him, and he knew there was nowhere for him to go. He grit his teeth together and squeezed his eyes shut before he righted his expression and turned, an easy smile on his face.

“What’s up, Chase,” Colin said.

“Good to see you, man,” Chase responded, clapping him on the shoulder with his smile still intact. “How are things?”

“Great,” Colin said with a shrug, slipping one of his hands around the small of Andie’s back, and Chase fought hard to keep the smile on his face, to keep his eyes on his friend.

Colin turned to Andie. “You want a drink, babe?”

“Your shot, man,” he heard Tyler say, and he turned from them, thankful for the distraction. Chase blinked quickly, trying to focus on the table.

What reason could he give for leaving? Chase thought as he attempted to line up a shot. He could fake an important phone call. He could say he didn’t feel well. He could say he was tired.

“T-t-t-today, Junior!” Tyler yelled.

Chase forced a smile, thrusting the cue forward, having no idea where he even sent the cue ball or what it would hit. He heard the clatter of a few balls, followed by Tyler’s jeering.

And when he stood and turned, he nearly bumped right into her.

“Shit, sorry,” he said, backing up quickly.

“No, it’s okay, I shouldn’t have walked behind you like that,” she said softly.

He nodded, looking at her, and she alternated between making eye contact with him and looking somewhere over his shoulder.

“Hi,” Chase finally said, and she smiled tentatively.

“Hi.”

A tension filled the space between them, so thick that Chase felt as if he couldn’t breathe. It was not the uncomfortable awkwardness that comes when there’s nothing to say, but rather when there are a million things, but they’re left unsaid.

“Here you go,” Colin said, his presence offering a sort of ironic relief, and Andie turned, taking the glass of wine out of his hands.

“Thank you,” she said, glancing at Chase one more time before she crossed to the other side of the table.

“Alright, we’re playing doubles,” Tyler said. “Colin, you’re with me. McGuire’s losing his hot streak anyway,” he added, and Chase flipped him off just as Matt came over to him.

“Yo, dude, you okay?”

Chase straightened up as he cleared his throat. “Yeah, I’m good, why?”

“That last shot sucked, bro,” he laughed. “Pull it together if you want to stay on my team.” He slapped him on the back as he crossed to the other side of the table.

He watched Matt line up his shot, and out of his peripheral vision, he could see Colin sweep Andie’s hair over her shoulder and plant a soft kiss on the side of her neck.

He had to get the fuck out of there.

He would finish this game, and then he’d say something, anything, that would explain his sudden departure. He just needed to get through this game. That was it. He’d throw it if he had to. And actually, at that moment, that seemed like his best plan of attack.

Ten excruciating minutes later, as he circled the table and attempted to look like he was strategizing, he heard Andie say, “No, it’s okay, really. You stay.”

“Babe, if you don’t feel well, I’ll drive you home.”

Chase bent over the table, his entire focus on the conversation happening a few feet away.

“No, it’s okay. It’s just a headache. I’ll be fine. Stay. You hardly ever get to see these guys.”

There was a pause. “Are you sure?”

“Definitely,” she said.

“Do you want me to come by and check on you later?”

“No, I think I’m just gonna go to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Chase took his shot and missed, spurring a chorus of insults from Matt, none of which registered. He was straining to hear her voice again.

“Bye, guys,” she said, and Chase finally turned toward her.

“Andie, you’re leaving?” Tyler asked.

“Yeah, I have a headache, and I have to be at the restaurant early tomorrow anyway.”

“Aw, well, feel better hon,” Matt said, leaning over to kiss her cheek, and Chase longed for that indifference, for the ability to be so cavalier about touching her.

She blew a kiss to Tyler before she turned to Chase. “Bye, Chase,” she said with a forced nonchalance that was blatantly transparent to him.

He held up his hand. “Good night. Feel better.”

She turned, giving Colin a kiss and bringing her purse up to her shoulder, and he watched her walk out the door, his eyes not moving until it swung closed and concealed her from his sight.

“Alright, boys’ night out!” Tyler called, and Matt laughed.

“Dude, are you really gonna quote Billy Madison all night?”

Chase laughed, because he knew he was supposed to, but his mind was a million miles away from moronic movie quotes. Why did she leave? Was she really not feeling well? Or had she been looking for an escape as desperately as he had?

“Alright, rack ‘em again,” Matt called over his shoulder as he walked toward the bar to buy another round. “McGuire, get your head out of your ass, or you’ll be deemed chalk boy.”

Chase played another game, his motions listless and his thoughts scattered. He didn’t want to be out anymore. This wasn’t working. Nothing was going to work. He just needed time to get over this shit, and no amount of forced apathy was going to get him there any faster.

He managed to keep his head in the game long enough to win it for him and Matt, and as they started to rack them again, Chase placed his cue back on the wall.

“Alright, I’m gonna head out.”

“Are you serious? It’s only ten-thirty.”

“I know, but I got up early this morning. I’m fucking beat.”

“Come on, don’t be a pussy,” Tyler said.

“Shut up and let him go. I don’t want to buy this asshole any more drinks,” Matt chimed in, and Chase smiled and shook his head.

“Alright man,” Colin said. “Well, it was good to see you. Give me a call. We’ll catch a game together next week.”

Chase nodded, taking down the last of his beer, and as he turned and walked toward the door, he saw movement in his peripheral vision. He glanced over his shoulder to see the redhead from the bar approaching him.

Shit.

He had forgotten all about her, and now he slowed, even though he had no desire to stay in that bar for another minute.

“Hi,” she said, her voice sweetly shy.

“Hey,” Chase said, thrusting his hands in his pockets.

“I just wanted to thank you again,” she said. “I’m Jenna,” she added, holding out her hand.

“Chase,” he said, reaching for it.

She blushed again and looked down, holding onto his hand a few seconds longer than what would be appropriate for a handshake.

“So, Chase, are you leaving?”

“Um…actually, yeah,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck and looking at the door.

“Can I walk you out?”

Chase looked at her for a second before he nodded, and as the two of them turned toward the door, he heard a long whistle, followed by Colin’s voice. “Tired my ass, McGuire!” he called, and the laughter of the three men erupted behind him.

As soon as they were outside, Chase turned to her. “I’m sorry about that,” he said, gesturing with his head back toward the bar.

She waved her hand, dismissing them.

“Alright, so…” Chase trailed off. He felt sorry that he had bothered this girl, that he had managed to get her attention. She seemed sweet, but all he wanted at that moment was to be home.

Alone.

“So,” she said, bouncing slightly on her toes and wringing her hands in front of her. “Do you want to maybe go somewhere? Get some coffee or something?”

Asshole, Chase thought. I’m the world’s biggest asshole.

“Listen, Jenna,” he said, running his hand down his face. “I think you’re really beautiful.” She smiled, and he cringed internally. “But…I’m sorry…I gotta go.”

Her face dropped slightly, her eyes confused.

He couldn’t do it. Sleeping with this girl wasn’t going to help him get over anything; he had already attempted that ploy, and if anything, it just made him feel worse. Plus, he knew she didn’t deserve that. They had barely spoken a few words, but Chase could already tell that this wasn’t the type of girl you screwed on a rebound. He knew he was doing the right thing.

So then why did he feel like such a piece of shit?

“I’m sorry,” he said again, needing to get away from that look in her eyes. “I just…I hope you have a good night,” he added, walking quickly past her and fumbling with his keys as he approached his car.

He pulled out of the parking lot, refusing to look in the rearview mirror for fear that he’d see her still standing there, that confused look on her face.

It reminded him of the way he had left Andie the night before.

Jesus, how many times was he going to do this? When had he become such a prick?

She’ll get over it, Chase thought, making a turn without even bothering to use his signal. She doesn’t even know who you are. It’s not like she cared about you.

And while that helped alleviate his remorse over screwing with Jenna tonight, it did nothing to make him feel better about what he’d done to Andie.

He wanted to make it right.

Before he even consciously made the decision, he sped past the entrance to the highway that would take him home, continuing on straight.

He felt his foot growing heavy on the gas, and it seemed the closer he got to his destination, the more urgent his need became.

A few minutes later, he pulled his car haphazardly into an open space and hopped out, walking quickly up the pathway to her building. By the time he got to the stairs, he was jogging. He took them two at a time and approached her door, knocking immediately.

And in the silence that followed, he suddenly began to question his decision.

What if she left tonight because she didn’t want to see him? What if she slammed the door in his face? What if Colin found out he had been there?

Colin.

And suddenly, without warning, the thought of his friend brought a memory rushing back to Chase, as smoothly and easily as if Chase had just called his name and Colin had turned in his direction.

It was Chase and Colin’s senior year, and the first time in four years their school’s soccer team had made it to sectionals. It seemed like the entire town was at that game. Chase could still hear the screams, still feel the ground vibrating as the crowd stamped wildly in the stands, still feel the adrenalin surging through his veins. He hadn’t yet come down from the high of it, even as they were driving home, and every now and then, Colin would pump his fist out the driver’s side window while shouting something celebratory. Chase would follow suit, laughing the entire time; he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this good, this…alive.

“This party tonight is gonna kick ass,” Colin said through a grin.

Chase nodded his agreement, playing a wild drum solo on the dashboard along with the radio. Two cars passed them then, covered in red and black streamers with “Go Devils” painted on the windows, their horns blasting as the passengers waved and shouted unintelligibly to Chase and Colin. They shouted back, laying on their horn and laughing.

“This is so weird,” Chase said as Colin turned into the McGuire’s driveway and cut the engine. “I feel like a celebrity.”

“Tonight, my friend, you are,” he said, playfully punching his arm before he exited the car. Chase hopped out, grabbing his soccer bag and walking quickly up the drive with Colin behind him.

“I’m starving. Can we eat something?” Colin asked.

“Yeah, let’s grab something quick and then we can shower and head out,” Chase said as he opened the front door and turned into his expansive kitchen, looking over his shoulder at Colin. “I just want to get to this party.”

He turned back around and stopped short for only a second before he continued on into the kitchen, his eyes now downcast. “Dad,” he said, his voice lacking the inflection of surprise even though he had not expected to see his father there.

As he heard the sound of Colin coming into the room behind him, Chase couldn’t decide if he was more annoyed at having to deal with his father when he was trying to enjoy his good mood, or more embarrassed that his father was sitting in the kitchen reading the paper instead of at the biggest game of his high school career.

“Hey, Mr. McGuire,” Colin said from behind Chase, a hint of surprise in his voice. “I thought you had to work.”

Chase’s father did not lift his eyes from the newspaper in front of him, but rather he brought the paper up a bit higher, shielding part of his face. “I did. It was paperwork. I got it done in the home office.”

“Oh. Well, you should have come to the game,” Colin said, still riding his own high. “It was unbelievable!”

The silence that followed Colin’s enthusiastic voice seemed to pull the air out of the enormous kitchen, and his smile slowly faded as he glanced toward Chase.

Chase immediately turned away, giving undue attention to unpacking his soccer bag and tossing the dirty clothes into the adjacent laundry room, his hands fumbling with the simple task as he tried to make it quick. He just wanted to get out of there. They could get something to eat on the way to the party.

“It was amazing, Mr. McGuire,” Colin added, trying again, and Chase closed his eyes and exhaled softly. Stop, he thought to himself. Please, just stop.

“We were down two to nothing at the half, and then we scored with about five minutes to go, and then with six seconds left to the game, Chase scored the tying goal,” Colin said, slapping his hand on the counter, the excitement taking over his voice again. “But that’s not even the best part! The best part is, this kid then gets the ball and scores again like fifteen seconds into sudden death! You should have heard the crowd.”

Chase heard the rustling of a newspaper, his father’s exaggerated sigh.

“It wasn’t that big of a deal,” Chase said dully, his back to the kitchen as he quickly zipped up his soccer bag.

Colin whirled on him. “Dude, are you kidding me?” he asked, his eyebrows nearly in his hairline.

“For once, I’m inclined to agree with my son,” Chase’s father said.

The room fell silent again, and Chase finally stood and turned, catching sight of Colin’s uneasy expression before his eyes landed on his father.

“I keep telling you, Chase,” his father said, his voice detached and his eyes still on his paper. “Do you really think soccer is what’s going to make you a great man? If you spent half the time and effort you put into that ridiculous game on something that was worthwhile, you might have been able to make a name for yourself at that school.”

Chase dropped his eyes before he turned away, his jaw flexing as he reached for the handle of the fridge, just to be doing something. He wasn’t even hungry anymore.

Did his father have to do this now? On the tail end of his victory?

Right in front of his friend?

“We have cold cuts,” Chase said to Colin, his voice straining with the effort to remain upbeat. “You want a sandwich?”

But Colin wasn’t listening; his eyes were focused on the man sitting at the island counter. “Um, with all due respect, Mr. McGuire, Chase’s name is known,” Colin said, and Chase knew his friend well enough to detect the irascibility behind the politeness in his voice.

Chase pulled his brow together, trying to focus on the food in the fridge instead of the conversation behind him. He knew Colin was trying to defend him, but to Chase, it was like watching a puppy playing on the side of a highway. He knew how it would end, and he didn’t want to watch.

“And not just for soccer,” Colin added. “I mean, he’s graduating in the top five percent of our class.” Colin’s eyes were wide, as if he couldn’t comprehend having to explain the merits of such a thing, especially to Chase’s father.

The newspaper rustled again, and Chase turned to see his father staring at Colin over the top if it.

“But not at the top, right?”

Chase closed his eyes and shook his head, wishing that Colin would just realize he couldn’t win, wishing that his dad would get fed up with the conversation and leave.

Wishing that he hadn’t come home in the first place.

“I’m sorry?” Colin asked, clearly unnerved.

“He’s graduating in the top five percent, but not at the top. There were kids above him, correct?” his father asked, his eyes still on Colin and his voice even.

Silence.

“That’s my point,” he said, folding his newspaper. “He could have done better. He should have done better.”

Chase closed the fridge and turned then, knowing he had to save his friend from what he had inadvertently started. Colin’s eyes were downcast, and Chase was relieved that he didn’t have to look him in the eyes.

“You want the shower first?” Chase asked, not even trying to maintain his cheerful façade now.

But before Colin could answer, Mr. McGuire turned toward Chase for the first time since they’d entered the kitchen. “A little focus is all I ask from you,” he said with a reproachful sigh. “I know you’re not worthless. I wish you’d stop acting like it.” And with that he stood and walked out of the kitchen without a backward glance.

It was quiet for a few seconds, the only sound being his father’s heavy footsteps fading down the hall, until Chase cleared his throat softly. “So…you want a sandwich?” he asked, turning back toward the fridge, his forced indifference pathetically transparent, even to him.

“No, I’m good,” Colin said softly. “You wanna just shower and get out of here?”

Chase didn’t answer. Instead he shut the fridge as he leaned over and grabbed his empty soccer bag, swinging it over his shoulder and walking briskly toward the stairs. He could hear the sounds of Colin following him, although he said nothing.

Chase walked past his room, throwing his bag haphazardly into the doorway as he continued down the hall to the linen closet, reaching in and grabbing two towels. He walked back toward Colin, tossing him one as he turned into his room.

“I’m sorry,” Colin said suddenly. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

Chase forced a smile. “He would have found a way to make that point without your help. Don’t worry about it.”

Colin looked down, nodding softly as he turned the towel over in his hands. He was just about to turn and head toward the bathroom when he stopped and faced Chase again.

“Can you do me a favor?”

Chase looked up at him.

“Can you just try and remember how you were feeling ten minutes ago?”

Chase closed his eyes and laughed humorlessly. “I’m not gonna ruin your time tonight,” he said dryly. “Just leave it alone. I’ll be fine.”

Colin shook his head. “I could give a fuck about the party, Chase. Just humor me. Do you remember how you felt ten minutes ago?”

Chase pursed his lips, his eyes trained on the ground, and nodded slowly.

“Good,” Colin said. “Remember that feeling. Because as good as that felt, it’s gonna feel a hundred times better when you make something of yourself, in spite of that asshole.”

Chase raised his eyes just in time to see Colin smile softly; he banged on the doorframe twice with the side of his fist before he pushed away from it and walked down the hall to the bathroom.

They never spoke of that conversation again.

But Chase often wondered if Colin realized what he had given him that day. More times than he could even count, he found himself clinging to those words like a life preserver.

Sometimes they were the only thing that kept his head above water.

The sounds of movement on the other side of Andie’s door pulled Chase from the memory, and he blinked quickly, refocusing on the present.

He shouldn’t be here.

And just as that epiphany dawned on him, he heard the sounds of the deadbolt sliding aside as the door opened a crack. He could see the outline of her peeking out, and it felt like his heart stopped in his chest as the door finally swung open.

She stood there, her expression somewhat stunned.

“What are you doing here?” she asked quietly.

He had no idea what he was thinking, why he came there instead of just calling her. It was such a stupid move, he realized.

But he couldn’t leave again. Not until he made this right.

Chase took a breath, his eyes dropping for a second. “Last night,” he said, looking back up at her. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry again—”

“It’s fine,” she said, cutting him off.

“No, it’s not,” he said with a shake of his head. “I shouldn’t have done it. I invaded your privacy, and I had no right—”

“I’m glad you did it,” she said, and he froze.

“You are?” he finally managed.

She nodded, her eyes on his. “Yeah…I mean…it’s ridiculous for me to spend all that time and effort on something and then never let anybody read it.” She glanced down, licking her lips before she looked back up at him. “And thank you. For being honest about everything.”

He stared at her for a second before he nodded, completely taken off guard. He hadn’t expected it to be that easy, for her to be so understanding of his blatantly insensitive behavior.