Second Chances by Tracy Younker Page B

grasp and spin around to face him.
    “I've been looking for you,” he smiles, his eyes barely hanging half open.
    “What are you on, Parker?” I ask him as he's stepping closer, trying to wrap his arms around me again. He gets high with some buddies of his every once in a while, and I am so turned off by that shit.
    “Don't you worry your pretty little head about me, Haylee. I'm good.” He's whispering and bringing his mouth down close to my ear. I shiver from the contact that I do not want and push him back with both of my hands against his chest.
    “You're not good, Parker. You're drunk and stoned!” I hiss at him. “What the hell is the matter with you?”
    “I missed you. Why don't you come with me?” he slurs and takes a hold of my wrist as he starts to pull me away from the fire.
    “Damn it, Parker! Let go of me!” I yell and try to pull my arm away. His grip is tight though, and he isn't paying any attention to what I'm saying as he drags me through people. I am struggling against his claw-like grip on my wrist when I run smack into his back because he finally quits pulling on me. He doesn't let go of my wrist though, and I look past him to see what's going on.
    Chase stands in front of Parker with a fierce look on his face.
    “Chase! Long time no see,” Parker tries to joke as he attempts to take a step around him. Chase put a hand up to Parker's chest, stopping him cold. “What the hell, bro?”
    “Haylee asked you to let go of her,” Chase replies calmly as he looks down to where Parker is squeezing my wrist. Parker looks down then too and quickly releases my wrist. “Why don't you go sober up?”
    Parker looks back at me with a sad expression and then continues on, shoving and stumbling his way through the crowd.
    “Are you okay?” Chase askes me as he steps closer. I rub my sore wrist with my other hand and shake my head. “Is he like that all the time?”
    I shake my head again. “No, not at all. I mean I've seen him high a couple of times before, but not all the time.”
    “What about the way he was dragging you like that?”
    “He's never done that before. I think he is just messed up,” I reply.
    “You don't do that shit with him do you?”
    I roll my eyes at him acting all big brother toward me like he used to. “No, Chase, I've never touched drugs and I have no interest. I do need another beer though.” I smile up at him, trying to lighten the mood.
    “Come on then,” he smiles back at me and holds his hand out to me. It's nothing at all like what Parker just did to me. I put my hand in his and let him lead me through the bodies toward one of the coolers. My hand feels small and delicate inside of his and I find that I like him holding my hand even if it is just to get me through the crowd. He stops beside a cooler and reaches in to grab a beer, but doesn't release my hand. He hands me the cold bottle, then grabs one for himself.
    Still holding my hand, he leads me around to the other side of the fire where I'd seen him standing earlier and over to a black Dakota. He set his beer in the bed of it and pulls open the tailgate.
    “Whose truck?” I ask as he lets go of my hand to climb up inside.
    “Technically it belongs to Enterprise, but it's mine for the time being,” he says as he grabs a blanket from the corner behind the cab and spreads it out in the bed. “I got sick of the Focus and traded up.”
    I laugh, almost choking on a sip of beer, as he leans over and holds his hand out for me again. I give him my hand again and let him help pull me into the bed of the truck. “Besides, I knew the Focus wouldn't make it out here,” he explains and I sit down on the blanket with my knees up in front of me. He sits down beside me and he's so close that I can feel the heat of his body warming the side of mine. He reaches over and takes my hand, weaving his fingers with mine, and I can't help but look down at our entwined hands. Luckily we are just far enough from the fire that I