“Did I do something to offend you? You haven’t said a word to me since Sunday.” And it was freaking Thursday, “You have been so bipolar lately, I don’t even know what to expect from you.”
Keeping his mouth shut, he raised one brow causing it to disappear under his shaggy hair. Chase and I had been having the most bizarre relationship lately and it was making my head spin. Bree had been taking me to her parent’s house for family day every Sunday for a month, and though it had been awkward at first when Claire, their mom, had hugged me as soon as I stepped in the door; I soon fell in love with her and her husband Robert. They were extremely loving, funny, and honestly I liked spending time with their family more than the parties at Chase’s house. Especially if they were like last week’s with Carter’s declaration of love.
What was frustrating, was Chase’s drastic mood swings. Over the last three weeks, he’d started talking to me less and less during the week, but if we were at his parent’s house, he wouldn’t leave my side and you wouldn’t believe he was the same guy I’d met my second night in California. He was hilarious, sweet and an incredible artist. Listening to him banter back and forth with his dad usually left the rest of us in tears and he treated his mom, Bree and I with such respect, it was mind blowing. If anyone’s drinks started getting low, he was already refilling it, he always made sure we were comfortable and had everything we needed, and his kisses on his mom’s cheeks had to be the most loving thing I’d ever seen come from him.
The biggest shock was when I’d gone to Chase’s room in his house to tell Bree I was ready to leave, and stumbled upon a sketch book. I confronted him about it later at his parent’s, and he ran upstairs for a minute and brought down an armful of them. He was extremely talented and I shouldn’t have been surprised when he told me he was a tattoo artist at the shop Bree had taken me for our piercings. The way his eyes lit up as I gushed over each drawing tugged at my heart, and I tried desperately to push those feelings away. I’d spent a couple hours last Sunday watching him work on a few new pieces he wanted on his forearms while the whole family watched a couple movies in the living room. At some point I must have fallen asleep on the couch I’d been sharing with Chase because an explosion on the TV jerked me awake.
~~~
“It’s just the movie,” he whispered in my direction and ran his fingers over my cheek, “don’t move yet Princess.”
“Don’t move? Why?”
“I’m almost done, give me another minute or two.”
I heard his hand moving back and forth across the paper slowly and waited until he kneeled down in front of the couch so his face was directly in front of mine. My breath caught and his electric blue eyes glanced down to my barely parted lips. His tongue absently wetted his lips and his teeth lightly bit down on his bottom one as his gaze roamed my face.
“Why couldn’t I move?” I managed to ask when he started closing the distance between us.
He abruptly stopped and blinked a few times, “Oh, um. Well…here. Just don’t freak out, okay? I wasn’t trying to be creepy.”
“You’re not supposed to tell someone not to freak out, those words alone cause them to freak out.”
Chase smirked, “Okay, well then don’t hit me or use your pressure point training on me again.”
Before I could roll my eyes at him, he brought his sketch pad up in front of me and my jaw dropped. I felt my cheeks burn and he took that the wrong way. Snatching the pad of paper back up, he cursed softly.
“I knew it was creepy.”
“Chase,” I breathed and shook my head in an attempt to clear my thoughts, “that wasn’t creepy. Can I see it again?” When he didn’t make an attempt to move I reached my arm toward the book, “Please.”
He handed it over with a sigh and looked at me with a sad smile, “I’m sorry, but you looked too perfect. I couldn’t let that opportunity pass.”
My stupid blush came back with force when he said that and I focused at his drawing. It was amazing, somewhat embarrassing, but remarkable none the less. With the shading and the detail he’d captured of my upper body and face, it almost looked like a black and white photo. It was perfect. From my chest, throat and slightly open mouth to the way my hair fell around my face and my eyelashes rested against my cheeks, it was one hundred percent me. He even had my hand clutching the pillow under my head that was resting on his leg, as well as the blanket that had been pulled up to the swell of my breasts. Goose bumps covered my body as I realized he’d spent however long staring at, and replicating, every part of me while I’d been completely unaware. He was wrong, it wasn’t creepy, it was beautiful and strangely intimate.
“Chase, it–” I cleared my throat and tried again, “It’s incredible.” Incredible didn’t cover it.
“Yeah?”