He’d helped me on with my coat so I was unfortunately free again to forge into the breach.
“It really is late and it’s also a long drive. I’ve had to work today, your food was delicious but with that, work, wonderful wine but lots of it and good company, I’m afraid I’m dead on my feet. I’ll probably fall asleep in the car.” I smiled at her. “Not to mention, it’s past Chace’s bedtime. So, to be safe, we should be getting home. It really was so lovely meeting you and,” I turned my eyes to Trane, “having the chance to meet you too.” I looked back at Valerie. “And I hope you take Chace up on coming to spend the weekend. I can show you my library and make you dinner.”
Her face moved like she was fighting tears, Trane shifted into her and slid his arm along her waist, this seeming to give her the strength to fight the tears back and nod.
“Of course, you’re right, Faye. It is late and you and Chace should be on your way,” she whispered with clear disappointment.
I approached her and took her hand. “I hope to see you again soon.”
“Yes,” she agreed, her hand limp in mine but I still gave it a squeeze.
“Faye,” Chace called shortly, I looked over my shoulder at him and nodded.
I looked back at Valerie, letting my eyes move through Trane and I said, “Thank you for a lovely evening.”
“My pleasure,” she muttered, her eyes beyond me on Chace, her melancholy obvious, extreme and alarming.
Chace ignored this, claimed me by grabbing my hand and his only farewell was, “Ma. I’ll call.”
He didn’t say one word or even look at his father.
Then we were out the door, down the steps and hoofing it to the Yukon. Chace bleeped the locks, walked me to my door, yanked it open and practically picked me up to plant me in the passenger seat.
I barely cleared my feet from the door when it was slammed and Chace was prowling around the hood.
I looked to the front door, saw Valerie and Trane there, his arm around her shoulders, her look despondent, his blank. I lifted my hand and gave them a happy wave that I hoped didn’t look stupid or, worse, forced.
Chace angled in, started up the Yukon and executed a tight turn in the large space of the front drive and we were on our way.
He, incidentally, didn’t wave. He didn’t even glance at his parents.
I gave it time and when we were close to hitting Aspen proper, I whispered, “Chace –”
“I hate him, you know that,” he cut me off to say curtly. “I love her, you know that too. You wanna sleep on the way home, sleep. But I do not wanna talk so if you’re not sleepin’, do me a favor and give me quiet.”
I bit my lip.
Then I gave him quiet.
And I endured his heavy mood all the way home without sleep not having any idea the worst was yet to come.
Chapter Seventeen
Always
It was very late when we hit my apartment, after one in the morning.
The drive had been silent, Chace’s mood not lifting, not in the slightest.
The very much shorter walk up my stairs to my apartment had been silent too.
I was wandering the space, turning on lights, trying to decide what to do, what to say and wishing I could go to the bathroom and call Laurie, Lexie, Krys or Twyla to ask when Chace spoke.
“Headin’ home.”
I was standing on my side of the bed, turning on the light but at his words, like a shot, my back went straight and my eyes cut to him standing in his coat by the door.
Since the night he took my virginity, we never slept apart. Not once. We never even went to bed without the other.
Not once.
I didn’t have a good feeling about this.
“What?” I whispered.
He didn’t repeat himself.
Instead, he said, “You go on to your folks tomorrow without me. I’ll call you Monday. Maybe Tuesday.”
Monday?
Maybe Tuesday?
A chill slid over my skin even though I still had my coat on but I didn’t move a muscle and stared at him.
He finished, “Later, Faye.”
Later, Faye?
No kiss. No touch. No darlin’, honey or baby.
Just later, Faye.
He was at the door when I called on a stammer, “I… you… Chace, what’s going on?”
He turned at the door and leveled his eyes on me. “Need space, you do too. This is happening fast. Too fast for me, where I am. Too fast for you, this bein’ your first relationship. Just slowin’ us down, givin’ us time, takin’ that time to sort my head.”
Sort his head?
What was there to sort?
My heart started pumping so hard, I could actually feel it.
“I… I don’t… it doesn’t feel fast,” I told him cautiously.
“Well, it is,” he told me firmly then he was done and I knew it when he started to turn back to the door, muttering, “Call you Tuesday.”
He didn’t move in slow motion but it felt like he did as thoughts collided in my brain.
Lots of them.
Too many.
Weeks of them.
And they did this so fast it felt like my head was going to explode.