“Kind of, yeah. I think they’re trying to feel me out.”
“For next year?” My heart stuttered. I wanted to say it was because I was happy for him, but my feelings weren’t quite that altruistic.
“Maybe.” Chase shrugged. “That or they know I’m trouble and they’re keeping tabs. Could be both.”
I laughed, but it died quickly. “Would you really leave school a year early? Without getting your degree?”
“Oh yeah.” He nodded.
“This way.” Making a left, I pulled him toward the brick social sciences building. Guess I knew why he was so unmotivated when it came to school. He had no plans to stay long enough to graduate.
“You would leave? Just like that?”
“One hundred percent.”
I suddenly found myself winded. “That’s a big decision.”
“I know,” he said. “But I’ve given it lots of thought. If it came down to it, I would jump ship. I could always finish my degree later if I needed to.”
“Most people don’t end up going back, though.” Pretty hard to take the lifestyle hit that would entail.
“Probably not,” he admitted.
A million things flew through my mind, but I wasn’t sure it was my business.
“Speaking of hockey,” Chase said, “I’m still leading in my fantasy hockey pool. Partly because of you.” He squeezed my hand, rubbing the back of it with his rough thumb. He was trying to change the subject.
“That’s awesome.” But all I could think of was what would happen to us if he left. I knew it was too early to worry about that, but the thought of this being something temporary was gutting.
A few minutes later, we settled onto a wooden bench off to the side of the social science foyer, finishing the last of our coffees. In a twist of terrible timing, I had a lecture in less than ten minutes, and now we were locked in a disagreement about tonight.
“You didn’t tell me you’d be at the Bulldogs game alone.” Chase frowned. “I don’t like it.”
“It’ll be fine,” I said, placing a hand on his muscular thigh. “Then I can finish packing after I get home, and we can move all of my stuff tomorrow.”
“Still don’t think you should be there without someone. Morrison gives me the creeps, James. Have you seen the way he looks at you? I feel like he’s going to roll up and yank you into a white cube van one day. I’m not even kidding.”
Luke was lots of things—lots of really crappy things—but he wasn’t dangerous. He never physically hurt me. Though one could do a lot of damage to someone without laying a finger on them.
“You’re being a little dramatic,” I said. “There will be people everywhere in the arena. And Derek too.”
“So?” he asked gruffly. “When was the last time Derek stood up for you?”
I gave him a withering look. “You don’t think my own brother would stop someone from abducting me?”
“Who’s to say he would even notice? He’s pretty absorbed in whatever he’s got going on.”
It landed like a slap. Part of me knew he had a point, even if his delivery did sting. But Derek and I had made headway in mending the fence. Things weren’t perfect by a long shot, and if I let myself think too hard about things, I might let my frustrations get the best of me.
“That’s a little harsh,” I said. “Besides, he ended things with Jill.”
“Cool, now he can start making up for being shitty to you.”
“Damn, Carter. Tell me what you really think.”
Yes, he had a protective streak a mile wide, but sometimes he could stand to soften the blunt delivery a little.
“Remember when I said I’d always tell you the truth?” His tone was flat. “If the truth hurts, I’m not the one you should be mad at.” He unzipped his hoodie, exposing the white tee underneath. He was always overheating. Arguing probably didn’t help that.
Drawing in a breath, I blew it out slowly to calm the frustration brewing within me. “Back to the topic at hand. You’re blowing this whole game thing way out of proportion.”
Chase shook his head, the cords in his neck tight. “I’m not. You need someone there with you. I’d legit send Ward if he didn’t have to be at the game with me.”
“I’ll be gone before the players even get out of the dressing room.”
“It’s not just Morrison. What about Amelia and Jillian? What if they corner you and give you a hard time? Not to mention that fucker Paul.”
“I deal with Amelia and Jillian at home already, remember?” A sour taste filled my mouth. “Besides, Zara, Noelle, and Shiv are all busy.”
I was borderline embarrassed that I had no one else to ask. In the past, I’d had an abundance of friends—until it turned out they weren’t actually my friends.
“I guess we could hire a bodyguard. Unless you have another solution.”
“I do, actually. A really easy one. Don’t go.”
“I’ll be fine.”
His jaw tensed. “What if you’re not?”
I felt like pulling out my hair. Chase meant it when he said he was stubborn. I was quickly learning that meant he was impossible to argue with when he dug in his heels.
“Oh my god. It’s one hockey game. In public. Why are you being so stubborn?”
“Because I’m right,” he said, voice low. “He’s a total fucking creep.” I knew that voice. It was the end-of-discussion voice. I liked it in the bedroom—a lot—but it was frustrating as heck outside of it.
“Wait.” I held up a hand, frowning. “Are you sure you aren’t mad because I won’t be at your game? My stuff is important too, you know.”
“First of all, I’m not mad—I’m upset. There’s a difference. And of course your stuff is important.” His expression softened, his tone following suit. “It’s got nothing to do with you watching me or not. But I’ll be worried about you all night.”
“Which will throw off your game.”
“Which will throw off my sanity, James.” He tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear and rested his palm against my cheek. “I care about you more than the game.”
My heart did another stutter for entirely different reasons this time.
“I care about you too. And it’s super sweet that you’re worried. But I’ll be fine. Promise. I’ll text you updates to prove I’m alive.” I checked my watch. “Sorry, I’ve got to get to class.”
We came to stand, face to face, and he wrapped his broad hands, warm and strong, around my waist. He dipped his head and touched his lips to mine, the tension between us evaporating. Smiling against my mouth, he let out a low chuckle as we broke apart.
“I think I needed that,” he said. His smile faded and a frown ghosted his face. “Call me if anything happens.”
“But you’ll be on the ice.”
“Do it anyway, okay?”
“Okay.”
He leaned in, planting a soft kiss on my cheek. “See you tomorrow, beautiful.”
Since the Bulldogs weren’t playing the Falcons tonight, I didn’t actively root against them—at least, not as much. In the end, they won three to two, which was good news for Derek.