I held on to his shoulders and pulled myself close, trying to kiss him.
“Explain first.” He pulled away, expression stern. “You were in my bed a few mornings ago, kissed me goodbye like everything was fine when I dropped you off for class, and you’ve been dodging me ever since. Why?”
His tone was razor sharp, but there was hurt in his eyes. He tilted his hips, pressing against me again and creating a jolt of pleasure that radiated up through my core. Heat flooded my body, desire unraveling. I was about two seconds or one more thrust away from trying to take off his clothes. But the tiny part of my brain that was still functional knew he was right—we had to talk first.
“Was some girl sitting on your lap at O’Connor’s recently?” I finally forced out. “Because that’s what I heard.”
Chase furrowed his dark brow. “What?”
Slowly, he lowered me until I was standing upright. I let my hands linger on his shoulders, soaking up the heat beneath his soft black T-shirt.
“I answered your question. Now answer mine, please.”
“That’s what this is about?” he asked, tilting his head incredulously. “That’s why you’ve been avoiding me?”
“I need a yes or no, Carter.” Now that he was here in front of me, I knew the answer, but I still wanted to hear it from him.
He slipped his hands beneath my sweater, rough fingers warm and reassuring against my waist. “That was for, like, two seconds. Lindsay plopped down into my lap from out of nowhere. I promptly turned her down, and she moved. The end.”
“That’s it?” My body relaxed, the ability to breathe returning to normal.
“That’s it. Nothing happened,” he said, voice gentle. “And it wasn’t recently; it was before Ty’s party.”
The explanation was genuine. And I was a complete jerk. A jerk who’d been baited into overreacting by Luke’s crony.
Chase narrowed his eyes. “Who told you this?”
“Paul…”
“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Consider the source, James.”
“But she did sit on your lap. Kind of.” I didn’t know why I was arguing that point, except to say I felt silly for having gotten upset in the first place. And even sillier for how I’d handled it after that.
“Paul twisted things around to suit his agenda and you know it. Please don’t let that asshole get in your head.”
“Thin walls.” I lowered my voice and gestured behind me. “Amelia?”
Chase glanced over my shoulder at the door, raising his voice a level. “I said, Paul is an asshole. He can’t fucking skate, either. Feel free to quote me.”
Despite the situation, I laughed. He was an instigator to the bone. At some point along the way, it had become endearing. He was my instigator, at least.
Then he looked back down at me, and his tone softened. “Paul say anything else to you?”
“Um…Well.” I drew in a breath. “He said that you slept with his cousin’s friend.” Oh, and then he called me a desperate puck bunny. But that would make Chase even more angry, and I wasn’t sure I needed to fuel that fire.
He nodded, studying my face. “Is there any chance it’s the sex thing that set you off?”
“Maybe a little,” I admitted. But it wasn’t fair to hold the past against him.
“Just because I have had meaningless sex in the past doesn’t mean it’s meaningless with you. It’s definitely not. You know that, right?”
“Yeah,” I said. “I do.”
“As far as the other thing goes, I’ll tell you when girls hit on me if you want, but it seems kind of pointless when I’d never act on it. Besides, I’m sure you shoot down guys all the time.”
Not really. My little bubble of journalism classes, the school newspaper, and seeing Chase didn’t lend itself to being on the receiving end of many pick-up attempts. It was sweet he thought that, though.
“Probably not nearly as much as the other way around.”
“You’re going to have to trust me for this to work,” he said tersely.
“I’m trying to. If I didn’t, I never would have slept with you.” My voice wavered. Suddenly, I was dangerously close to tears. I tamped down on it with every ounce of self-control I had. “Maybe I’m a little off-kilter right now, but that was a huge deal to me.”
His coffee-brown eyes softened, shining with affection. “I know. I don’t take that lightly.” He tucked my hair behind my ear, his lips tugging up at the corners. “I think, deep down, you know you can trust me. You just don’t trust your own judgment.”
Things clicked into place.
“Oh my god. I think you’re right.”
Chase leaned in and kissed me briefly, softly, sweetly. He pulled back and brushed my cheek with his fingers. “Then can you talk to me next time instead? Because this pushing me away thing sucks. If you don’t talk to me, there’s nothing I can do on my end.”
Right. If I had been able to approach this like a rational person, that’s probably what I would have done—talked to him. It’s what I would do in the future. Even if it was difficult.
“I’ll try. I’m not as good at talking about things as you are.” I glanced down at the floor, then back up at him. “You might not have a filter, but I have an extra-strength industrial-grade one. With a spare for backup.”
“You overthink, huh?” Chase gave me a half smile. “I’ve noticed.”
I tugged his arm, pulling him toward the bed. It sagged under his weight as he sat and turned to face me. Shifting closer, I placed a hand on his sweatpants-clad thigh. “I know this is my baggage, and I’m trying not to take it out on you. It won’t go away overnight, though.”
“I get it,” he said, rubbing my lower back. Warmth spread through the fabric of my shirt in the wake of his touch. “But I have feelings too, and that shit hurt.”
Guilt settled in my stomach, heavy like a bag of pucks. For all my worrying about him, maybe I was the one who would ruin things.
I touched his muscular shoulder, fingertips resting softly on his T-shirt. “I’m sorry.”
“I forgive you. But let’s not handle things this way again, okay?”
“Okay.”
We fell quiet for a moment. He dipped his head and caught my eye, forehead wrinkling. “I’ve been pretty open with you, but I feel like you’re holding back.”
“Holding back how?” I asked, deflecting.
Thing was, he was right. I’d been holding back a tiny piece of myself…just in case. Maybe that wasn’t fair to either of us. It wasn’t working very well anyway.
“I’m not sure where your head is at sometimes.”
“I’m—” I faltered, trying to summon the courage to be vulnerable. He’d met me more than halfway. Multiple times. Warmth rushed to my face, and my nerves shot through the roof. “Crazy about you,” I said. “Certifiable. I’m just scared.”
Or, you know, terrified.
“Oh, I’m not going anywhere. That’s why I’m here right now.” He grinned, gesturing to the two of us. “Stubborn, remember?”