“I’m glad you had her,” he says with intensity. “That you were safe and loved.”
“I can’t imagine going through what I did without her. You were so young. You must have been so confused, missing your mom.”
He plays with my hand, our fingers entwining. “I think the hardest part is that the memory of her fades a little more each year,” he says.
He attempts what I think was supposed to be a careless smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.
“It was a long time ago, and it feels good to talk about her. I knew what it was to be loved, at least for a little while. Daisy’s asshole parents gave her nothing.”
“But don’t you see? You gave Daisy the stories, the care, the love. You filled that role for her, even if it wasn’t long either.”
He frowns. “I tried. But I did a damn poor job of protecting her.”
“You were just a kid. She loves you like the older brother you are to her. You are each other’s family. I know she’d like to spend more time with you,” I say, probing gently.
He doesn’t answer.
He takes my hand and presses a kiss into my wet palm. The gentleness of the gesture turns me inside out.
“You’re cute when you’re earnest.” He lets go of my hand and traces my face with his long fingers before letting them fall back into the water. “You make it so hard to stay away. But I shouldn’t be with you like this.” There’s an edge of desperation to his voice.
“Have you been avoiding me?” I ask, even though I fear I already know the answer.
He tilts his head up to the sky, the angle emphasizing his perfect profile. He blows out a breath and runs a hand through his wet hair. I wait, and when his eyes return to mine, they are dark and conflicted.
I’m wearing next to nothing, and he’s close enough to reach out and touch my breast, touch every part of me, if he wants. And probably more significant, we both bared our souls to each other.
His gaze lingers on my lips and then shifts lower. And I wonder again just how much he can see through the water and the dark.
I’m pretty sure he’s with his ex-girlfriend. He didn’t say he wasn’t.
As if he can hear the thoughts, he snaps his head back and puts distance between us with one large slice through the water.
“I’m sorry. I thought it would be better to not be here much.”
That confirms what I suspected. He’s been avoiding the house because of me.
“I’m not your responsibility,” I say, disappointment clogging my throat. I’ve been desiring him, while he’s been dodging me. I shiver in the dark, feeling a chill that’s beyond the water. “I don’t want my presence to make you feel uncomfortable.”
He doesn’t correct me, tell me I’m wrong. He says it all without saying a thing.
I yearn for connection, for someone to see all of me and who likes who I am. But I won’t get that with Chase.
“It’s getting cold.” I move away with more speed than grace. “I’m getting out now. Close your eyes,” I mumble, just wanting to be covered. I feel naked in so many ways.
“I can’t see you,” he says from somewhere in the shadows.
And he never will because he doesn’t want to, no matter how much I wish it.
I slip from the water and wrap my body in a towel, wishing I could wrap my heart in armor as easily.
CHAPTER 26
Olivia
“Olivia, wake up,” Chase calls.
Two days later, I wake to banging on my bedroom door. I roll over and pull the pillow over my head to block the sound.
More banging.
I rub my eyes and sit up.
What is Chase doing here before it’s even light out? Especially after our pool session the other night where he basically told me he didn’t want to be around me.
“Are you decent? I’m coming in,” he calls through the door.
I barely have time to pull the covers up over my nightshirt before he strolls in, looking wide awake in workout shorts and a tank top. It isn’t fair to short-circuit the few working brain cells I have this early in the morning.
“What are you doing here?”
“I’m taking you for a run. Isn’t that on your list?”
I rub the sleep from my eyes. “Yeah, but I can run with Daisy or Emma. I don’t need you.”
Something in his eyes flares as he stalks closer to the bed. I touch my throat and swallow. I imagine him in bed with me, the crisp white linen surrounding his bronzed skin. I look into his face, and it’s a good thing I’m not standing because I get weak at the slight laugh lines crinkling his eyes, those molded lips curving in amusement.
“Daisy and Emma don’t run.”
“Right. Well, maybe with Ryder or Sebastian.”
Anyone but Chase. Chase, who all but admitted he’s been hiding from me the past few days, but suddenly switches course and turns up here in my bedroom. Chase, whom I’d prefer to not see me sweat or pass out from running half a block.
He takes a step closer, his expression tight. “Kenji volunteered to run with you this morning, but I told him to go to hell. I don’t trust the guy.”
I let out a huff of irritation. “You were just warning me to stay away from you, and now here you are in my room. I’m getting whiplash from your mood swings,” I say. “I can go running by myself or wait until I get back to San Francisco to start. It’s not a big deal.”
He runs a hand through his hair until it stands up on end, tousled as if he just emerged from a morning of hot sex. He studies me long enough that I start to fidget. Finally, he shakes his head. “Listen, I’m sorry about the other night. And I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you. This is…complicated. But it’s not your fault. It’s all mine. I care about you, probably more than I should, and I don’t want anything to hurt you, ever, including me. I’d really like us to be friends,” he says with an earnestness that contracts my heart.
“That’s the thing about life, Chase. Hurting is kind of unavoidable,” I say in a small voice. “And yes, we’re friends.”
His eyes linger on me, and then he nods. “I’ll meet you in front of the house in twenty minutes. I left you a cup of coffee with cream and two sugars. There’s also some fruit and a granola bar on the counter. I don’t want you to pass out on the run.”
“You know how I take my coffee?” I ask.
“You’d be surprised what I know, Olivia.”
“Oh,” is all I manage, but that word stands for so much.
Oh my God. Oh, my heart. Oh, how in the ever-loving hell am I going to manage this ridiculous crush I have? And oh, why are you so damn confusing?
Fifteen minutes later, I open the large front door—seriously, why is this door so huge?—and walk out to the curved driveway. I’m wearing workout clothes, courtesy of Emma.
Chase is bent, stretching. He looks up at my approach and grins, and there it is again, my heart wobbling.
“Come stretch with me,” he says.
I try to touch my toes but only make it to my knees. This is embarrassing.
“It’s been a while since you worked out, huh?” His grin is so attractive, only half of me wants to smack him.
“I’ll have you know that my fingers are very dexterous.”
“Are they now?” he asks.
“I mean, from writing. Typing. Get your mind out of the gutter, Mr. James.”
“I didn’t say anything,” he retorts, all innocence. “Here, stretch your hamstrings.”
He demonstrates a series of movements, which I’m attentive to, mostly because of the things those stretches do to his muscles.
He’s serious about his fitness, probably because of his job. He’s not quite as buff as Sebastian, but he’s taller, with wider shoulders, and every part of him is lean, hard, and strong. Or at least, every part I can see, and I imagine the parts hidden by clothes as well.
I attempt to copy him, and he adjusts my body with a large hand on my waist. My breath catches, and the slow, steady pressure feels like a prelude to more.
He quickly lets go, but not before he gives me a look. It leaves me thinking that maybe, just maybe, he’s at least a little affected by me, as I am by him.