His black T-shirt hung off his broad shoulders, hinting at the muscles that lay beneath. And gray joggers sat low on his waist, wrapping around the V of his hips. He looked every single inch the heartbreaker I was scared he might be.
Chase stepped inside, and I took his hand. Waves of tension radiated off him with such intensity that they filled the room, palpable and heated.
Amelia rolled her eyes and turned away, heading into the kitchen, with Jillian trailing behind her. They pretended to be occupied with the fridge and dishwasher while I led Chase upstairs. In reality, they’d be up right behind us to eavesdrop. Then they could report the intimate details of my personal life back to everyone else. Super.
He followed me up the staircase and down the hall into my bedroom, lit by the yellow glow of the small bedside lamp. My iPad lay on my white comforter, still paused on the Netflix show I had been half watching instead of studying like I told him I had been—like I should have been. But I hadn’t been able to focus on anything in days.
I didn’t know if we were about to talk, fight, or break up.
He shut the door behind him quietly. Before I could sit down on my bed, he closed the distance between us, and his large hands landed on my hips, turning me to face him.
Eyes still locked on mine, he took a step forward, followed by another, until he backed me up against the wooden door. His divine, familiar scent enveloped me, going to my head and straight through my defenses. My eyes dropped to the pulse at the base of his throat for a beat, then traveled to the tense cords of his neck before snapping back up to his.
He pinned me to the spot and heated my skin with just a look. He had me cornered—figuratively and literally. I couldn’t draw my attention away from him. I was victim to his commanding presence. Five extra inches was pretty significant when it was accompanied by an additional forty pounds of muscle.
Especially when he was pissed.
“What’s going on, James?” he asked quietly.
“What do you mean?”
His jaw ticked. “Why are you ghosting me?”
“I’m not.” At least, not on purpose. It started innocently enough, taking some time to think. But thinking had turned into catastrophizing, and now I was pretty sure I had blown things way, way out of proportion.
“You absolutely are,” Chase said. “And I didn’t work my ass off earning your trust only to have you throw it away without an explanation.”
Desire, guilt, regret. They all slammed into me like a wrecking ball. I reached up to touch him, but he took hold of my wrists and pinned them against the door.
He shook his head. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Why do you want to touch me when you don’t want to be with me?”
I didn’t know how to answer that. I did want to be with him. I wanted it so badly it hurt, and that was the problem.
This wasn’t the kind of thing I’d walk away from in one piece.
“That’s not it.”
His pupils dilated as he considered me. “Then explain.”
It was an order, not a request.
My breath grew shallow. “I don’t know how.”
Every time I had tried to talk to Luke, he gaslighted me into thinking I was crazy, or he twisted the narrative to make me the bad guy. Eventually, I stopped trying. I was letting that—the past—interfere with the future. But knowing that and overcoming it were two separate things.
“Try.” He wedged a muscular thigh between my legs and brought his mouth down to hover above mine, almost touching.
I lifted my chin, and his lips crashed down against mine, his tongue pushing inside my mouth. The minute we kissed, every doubt I’d ever had, every question, every second-guess vanished.
Our mouths moved against each other, indomitable and wild, sending a wave of want surging through my body. He tore away from my lips, placing a trail of frenzied kisses down my neck and sending my desire into overdrive. I squirmed against his grip, trying to touch him, but all that did was make him press his thigh harder between my legs and hold my wrists tighter while I moved against him in response.
“If this is your idea of convincing me to talk,” I said breathlessly, “I don’t have a very good incentive to comply.”
But I was in sensory overload. He was pressed up against me while I was unable to touch him back. I wanted to feel his body beneath my hands, to map the muscles beneath his skin, and to run my fingers through his dark, silky hair.
I hit the breaking point. “Chase.”
“Stop?” He pulled back, looking at me pointedly like he was trying to prove something.
“No,” I said. “Just let me touch you.”
He released my wrists and cupped my chin, tilting my face up to his.
“Answer my question first,” he said calmly.
I bit my bottom lip, searching his face. He slid his hand from my jawline to the side of my neck. With anyone else, I would have been scared, but he wasn’t applying any pressure. It was a power move.
He would stop instantly if I said.
But I didn’t want him to.
With his free hand, he dragged the pad of his thumb along my bottom lip, gaze focused intently on the movement. Then he traced down my cheek, along the curve of my neck. I drew in a shaky breath, eyes fluttering shut as goose bumps popped up all over my body.
“I missed you.” He placed a kiss just below my ear.
I tilted my head, yielding to give him better access.
“It’s only been a couple days, and I’m like an addict in need of a fix.”
I’d missed him too, which was why I was melting like butter beneath his hands, unable to think clearly or form coherent sentences. He splayed his palm, cupping my breast and squeezing, and I melted a little more.
“Mm-hmm,” I murmured, my brain going offline.
He skimmed lower, gliding down past my ribcage. My breath snagged as he toyed with the elastic waistband of my pajamas, but he didn’t move any farther. He pulled back suddenly, removing his hands, and my eyes flew open.
“But I’m confused. Because here’s what I think,” Chase said, voice low. “You do want to be with me.”
He was right. Not just wanted—in the moment, I needed him like air. But falling so hard, so fast for someone was terrifying. Scariest thing I had ever done. Hands down.
I wanted to believe it was a calculated risk, but in truth, I never had a choice.
“So tell me.” He bracketed the wall above my head with his hands, towering over me. “What the hell is going on?”
My brain slowly kicked back into gear now that he wasn’t touching me. “You realize Amelia and Jillian can hear all of this.” I nodded to the door. “The walls in this place are paper thin.”
“Don’t care. I’m afraid I used up all my fucks worrying about you.”
He nudged my legs apart with his knee, and I complied, pliant against his touch. Grabbing the backs of my thighs, he hiked me up and pinned the upper half of my body against the door. I drew in a ragged breath as the length of him pressed against the perfect spot between my legs, rock hard and ready.
I held on to his shoulders and pulled myself close, trying to kiss him.
“Explain first.” He pulled away, expression stern. “You were in my bed a few mornings ago, kissed me goodbye like everything was fine when I dropped you off for class, and you’ve been dodging me ever since. Why?”
His tone was razor sharp, but there was hurt in his eyes. He tilted his hips, pressing against me again and creating a jolt of pleasure that radiated up through my core. Heat flooded my body, desire unraveling. I was about two seconds or one more thrust away from trying to take off his clothes. But the tiny part of my brain that was still functional knew he was right—we had to talk first.
“Was some girl sitting on your lap at O’Connor’s recently?” I finally forced out. “Because that’s what I heard.”
Chase furrowed his dark brow. “What?”
Slowly, he lowered me until I was standing upright. I let my hands linger on his shoulders, soaking up the heat beneath his soft black T-shirt.
“I answered your question. Now answer mine, please.”