What had he said when I brought up Cassidy being his girlfriend? Had he confirmed it, or had he been noncommittal and I just assumed?
“Trust me, the first lesson to learn in this crazy town is not to trust rumors. I’m helping Chase out with something right now, but you’ll have to ask him about that yourself. It seems like he might be into someone else.”
“Good to know,” I say, my mind in a whirl.
After Cassidy saunters away, Emma turns to me. “Soooo, that was interesting.”
“I don’t understand. Chase led me to think he was back with Cassidy.”
“Obviously, you misunderstood,” Emma says. “Besides, you and Chase are going out on a date tonight. He would never take another girl out if he was with someone else. He’s not the type to cheat. Hell, ever since that one girl sold her story about hooking up with him to the tabloids, he’s hardly been with anyone.”
Except for me. Except for San Francisco. I’ve never been more tempted to tell Daisy and Emma everything and ask what they think. They know that we kissed in San Francisco, but they don’t know the details or the extent of it. I’m not experienced like they are, so I’m way out of my depth. I don’t know the dos and don’ts of hookup etiquette.
I stay quiet, though. Saying anything would feel like a betrayal of Chase’s fragile trust, as if I were no better than the girl who ran to the press with her story. I know it’s not the same, but he has so little privacy as it is.
“It’s not romantic,” I say instead. “We’re just going as friends, so he can help me with my list.”
“Two of Ryder’s band members volunteered to go on the date with you, and Chase refused to allow it. He said he was the only guy who could take you out. He’s awfully possessive of you. Doesn’t sound like friends, sugar,” Emma says.
Daisy’s stare is dagger-sharp. “I have a serious question for you, Olivia. Now that you know he’s not dating Cassidy, do you or do you not like Chase?”
“Yes, I like him. He’s great.” Nerves jangle down my spine.
“Do you like him as a girl likes a boy? As a woman likes a man? In a sexual way?” Emma asks with an eye roll.
What can I say? Of course I like him. But I’m scared to hope for more. It’s not like I baby-stepped my way into this situation, hooking up with a few normal guys, gaining experience and confidence. If I even had a few friends-with-benefits situations, I might be less confused. But nope. I jumped straight into the dating pool with a movie star. I’m a mess.
Emma sighs at my silence. “Olivia, life is short. You’ve been taking risks, but not the ones that matter. Doing things like pretend skydiving or roller-skating are just baby steps to teach you it’s okay to fall and that, sometimes, you’ll fly. You’ve done those. Now, take a risk that means something. Do you or do you not like Chase?” she asks, her eyes flinty. Damn, she’s tough. And dammit, she’s right.
I take a deep breath and step out onto that ledge once again.
“Yes,” I say.
“We can’t hear you.” Emma’s mirth is evident in her wide grin.
Daisy’s been uncharacteristically quiet during this conversation. She just watches me with a slight frown. Maybe it’s weird for her to hear, what with the whole brother thing.
“Yes, I like him,” I say with more force this time. “But he keeps giving me mixed signals,” I can’t help adding.
“Oh, honey, no guy knows what’s good for him, especially not Chase. You have to show him,” Emma says. “You can start showing him tonight.”
“Just… Just be careful,” Daisy says.
Daisy telling me to be careful is like being in the land of the opposites.
I still don’t know why Chase let me believe he’s with Cassidy. The most logical answer is he’s trying to let me down easy. But Emma is right. I need to learn to be honest and go after what I want.
I’m tired of this back and forth. What I need is to have some straight talk with Chase. He keeps pulling me in, then letting me go. Tonight, we will talk. Tonight I will tell him what I want and find out once and for all what he wants. And what I want is Chase James. He’s not just a fantasy or a crush anymore. This is real, at least for me, even if all we’ll ever have is this short time during my summer of risk.
Later that afternoon, I wake from a blissful nap in groggy confusion. I can still feel the warm strength of being in Chase’s arms. Only, in my dream, he doesn’t stop our kisses or our wandering hands. I want to keep hold of the gossamer threads of the dream, but they disintegrate at the incessant ring of the phone, and all that’s left is my body, hot and bothered.
Apparently, I can’t get it in real life and can’t even get it in a dream.
“Hello,” I answer the phone, gravel-voiced and grumpy. I sit up in bed, pushing the cozy white throw off me.
“Olivia Evans?”
“Yes?” The stranger’s voice sounds commanding and impatient. I brush my bangs back from my face. They haven’t been cut since before we arrived in LA and are starting to annoy me.
“This is the fire inspector. I’m calling about the fire at your residence.”
“Oh,” I say, my stomach plummeting. “Do you have an update?”
A knock sounds on the door, and Emma pokes her head in.
I wave her in as I continue to listen to the man talking.
She looks down at her phone, typing furiously, as she waits for me to be finished. But I can’t concentrate on her. The man on the phone has my entire attention. My breath whooshes out at his words.
“Th-thank you for letting me know,” I say on a shaky breath. “Okay. Yes. I will. Goodbye.”
I look up at Emma, trying to process what I just heard.
“Are you okay, Olivia?” Emma asks. “Any important news?”
“It wasn’t arson,” I mumble to myself, looking at Emma with wide, shocked eyes.
“What did you say, hon?”
I shake my head, as if to clear it. It’s on the tip of my tongue to explain that the phone call was the fire inspector, and he just told me that the fire at my house wasn’t arson. It was caused by old, faulty wiring in the bathroom.
I think of the burned socket in the upstairs bathroom and how my blow-dryer kept blowing a fuse. How I wanted to get the house rewired but could never quite afford it. I think Nanna had been planning on doing it before she got sick, but that was years ago. Shit.
That means that the threatening letters the police found were just a coincidence. A disgruntled fan may have been upset enough to send a nasty letter, but they didn’t try to kill me.
I open my mouth to explain all that, but something stops me.
“Olivia?”
I don’t answer Emma. All I can think of is that no one tried to kill me.
Now, normally, this would be a good thing.
But it also means there’s no substantial threat.
Maybe there’s a stalker. But there’s no deadly stalker.
So, there’s no need to be in this Malibu mansion with Chase and his crew.
No need to be with Chase at all.
And that is very, very bad.
Why can’t someone want to kill me?
Just a little.
“Nothing. Just talking to myself. What is it, Emma?”
She tilts her head. I can tell from her sharp gaze that she doesn’t believe it’s nothing, but she doesn’t press me.
“Chase wants you to meet him out front at eight for your date.”
“Did he say where we’re going?” I ask. “I’m not sure what to wear.”
“Something cute and comfortable,” Emma says. Then she grins wickedly. “With nice underwear.”
I throw my pillow at her but miss. She laughs and saunters out the door with a wave of her hands.
As soon as she leaves, my mind goes back to the fire inspector’s call and his unexpected findings.
Good Olivia knows I should tell everyone about the report.
But Bad Olivia, the one who’s gotten addicted to taking risks, is asking if it’s really so wrong to wait a few days, a week, hell, a lifetime, to tell everyone that I don’t need to be here, that I’m in no need of protection after all? Because when I do, Chase might just put me on the first jet back to San Francisco, and I’m not ready for that yet.