Emma tilts her head. “Maybe we should do an intervention. Push him out into the world with a ball cap, wig, and shades.”
I laugh. “I just want to do something for him.”
Daisy smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “You and Chase seem to be getting close.”
“You don’t need to worry about me,” I say, avoiding her concerned gaze.
“I can’t help it. I remember how heartbroken you were with Remington, and you didn’t even know him in real life.”
“Who’s Remington?” Emma asks, leaning forward.
“This guy who catfished Olivia.”
“He did not catfish me. You make it sound sordid. We were pen pals. You can’t be sordid when you meet through a typewriter.”
Daisy frowns. “Wait, what? What about a typewriter?”
“That’s how we met. I sold one of Nanna’s typewriters, a Remington, at the neighborhood antique shop. I included a note, and we started exchanging letters. We agreed to keep things anonymous, so I don’t know his real name, but I do know he lives in LA.”
“Fuck me,” Daisy whispers.
Someone clears their throat.
Our heads swing up.
Chase stands in the kitchen in a sleeveless tank and running shorts. His gaze lands on mine before it slides down to check out my outfit, the outfit he picked out. His eyes light up, and I can tell he approves. Warmth suffuses my body like melting caramel.
“Morning glory,” Emma drawls, waving with two hands. “Hello, earth to Chase.”
He tears his gaze from me. “Uh, morning.” He throws a brief smile to Daisy and Emma, then directs his gaze back to me. “Ready for our run?”
I groan. “Maybe?” My muscles may not be ready, but as I stare at the man before me, the rest of me is all in.
“Was I interrupting? You ladies looked like you were discussing something intense.”
“Were you interrupting something?” Daisy answers with an arch look. “That’s such an interesting question. Olivia here was just telling us about this pen pal she had and how they met when he bought her typewriter. A Remington.”
He stiffens at her words, his head jerking back.
I turn to Daisy.
I don’t want Chase to get the wrong idea and think I’m still hung up on Remington. I mean, I am, a little. I miss him with an ache in my heart and an emptiness in the parts of my life that used to be filled by him. The texts in the morning and the texts before bed and all of those in-between moments in my day. But that’s over, at least for now.
Daisy wanted me to leave my online friendship behind, so why is she bringing it up now, and to Chase, of all people?
I look up at Chase. For a brief moment, I think I see panic in his eyes before his expression shutters.
He takes a deep breath. “Let’s go,” he murmurs before pinning Daisy with an intense look.
“Have a nice run,” Daisy calls after us. “We’ll talk later, Chase.”
CHAPTER 27
Chase
“When were you going to tell me?” Daisy bursts into my cottage later that afternoon, startling me as I stand in front of my refrigerator, debating which nutritionist-approved, premade dinner to choose, salmon or plain chicken breast.
“Nice of you to knock.” I turn to her, resigned to my fate.
It took Daisy longer to confront me than I thought it would. But that might have been because I was hiding out in my cottage all day, like the coward I am.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Daisy repeats.
I can’t avoid this conversation any longer.
“We’ll talk. Do you want a drink?” I sure as hell do.
I pull out a cold beer and offer it to her. She grimaces. I shrug and open it for myself.
When we’re both sitting at my wooden table, I take a long swig, fortifying myself.
“Why didn’t you tell me about Olivia? The typewriter and the letters, that you were ‘Remington’？” she says, using air quotes.
“It has nothing to do with you.”
“Except it does, Chase. I bought that typewriter and gave it to you. When Olivia finds out, she’s going to think I knew this whole time.”
She stares at me, at my eyes that keep sliding away, and then her eyes get big.
“You weren’t going to tell her, were you?” She snorts in disgust. “Guys are such idiots. So tell me, big brother, what is your grand plan here?”
I run my hand through my hair and squeeze the back of my neck. “I never planned any of this, Daisy. I made a mistake visiting her in San Francisco and setting all this in motion, but she stopped texting me and I was worried. I just want to keep her from being hurt, and if I tell her, it will hurt her.”