inside.
“Chase…you can’t afford this.”
“I can. I’m making good money on the woodworking and I figured this way you and I can talk without worrying about anyone catching us.”
“About that…” She chewed on her bottom lip, wondering how best to start the conversation she’d been dreading for months now. Before she could get the chance, though, Chase pulled her into a warm embrace and she snuggled against him, breathing deep until his rich, heady scent coated her lungs.
She closed her eyes and then his lips were brushing her throat, teasing their way to the shell of her ear and back down to her collarbone over and over again until she arched into him, silently asking for more.
“Chase,” she breathed, and then her breath caught as he sucked her skin gently at first, then harder until she started panting and her fingers were twining through his hair.
Then she felt it. The little intense sensation she knew all too well. The one that spelled doom.
Shit.
She pulled away. “Did you just give me a hickey?”
“It’s not that bad.” Chase insisted as he inspected her neck, but once she got her hands on a mirror she knew there’d be no convincing her otherwise.
“Luke and Amy are coming home tomorrow for my party. You don’t think they’re going to notice this?” She reached into her bag and wrestled out her compact, then held it up to the offending spot. Then there it was—already bright red and spotty. A big, glaring hickey.
“They’re going to want to know who gave it to me,” she said. “Maybe we should just tell them. It was dumb to keep this secret in the first place. We’re adults, for Christ’s sake.”
“That will not matter to your brother. Trust me. Remember what he did to your prom date?”
Julie winced. “Okay, let’s go get a turtle neck.”
“It’s the middle of the night.”
“Walmart is still open. Now come on.” She took his hand and led him through the woods and back toward his car. When they got there, she swung herself into the front seat and stared straight ahead. It was going to be fine. The hickey, telling her brother—all of it.
But first, she was going to have to keep covering it up.
Present Day
She must have reached for her pack of cigarettes at least fifteen times on the way into the city. Every time, though, she'd look down and find Chase holding her hand instead.
He'd take her palm in his and run his thumb along the seam of her fingers, then down the back of her hand, and she'd close her eyes, wondering over and over again what was waiting for her when she got off the train. She'd made all the calls, done all the arranging, but she knew better than anyone that sometimes things simply fell apart...and with Troy manning the show, things were pretty likely to fall apart.
Oh god, Troy.
Her stomach heaved again as she considered the idea of seeing his stupid blond hair again or his vain, selfish brown eyes.
How had she ever fallen for a guy like that when she'd once been in love with a guy like Chase? Had her standards seriously fallen that far?
She glanced over at him and quirked her mouth to the side. He really was something else. His chestnut hair was swept to the side and his eyes were thoughtful as he stared out the window at the rows of housing projects and factories they passed. All the while, he stroked her hand, soothing her almost absentmindedly.
"Chase?" she said, and he turned to look at her, his eyebrows raised just a fraction of an inch.
"What's up?"
"Thanks," she said. "I'm just...I'm not sure if I said it. About the house. Or about the bar with Luke. Or, you know, for all of this." She gestured with her free hand toward the window and he offered her a sympathetic smile.
"It's no problem. Just relax. It's going to be so much better than you think."
"You think?"
"I know. You're running the show. You've got this."
She considered him, the sincerity in his voice. The confidence he had in her. And for the first time all day long,
“Chase…you can’t afford this.”
“I can. I’m making good money on the woodworking and I figured this way you and I can talk without worrying about anyone catching us.”
“About that…” She chewed on her bottom lip, wondering how best to start the conversation she’d been dreading for months now. Before she could get the chance, though, Chase pulled her into a warm embrace and she snuggled against him, breathing deep until his rich, heady scent coated her lungs.
She closed her eyes and then his lips were brushing her throat, teasing their way to the shell of her ear and back down to her collarbone over and over again until she arched into him, silently asking for more.
“Chase,” she breathed, and then her breath caught as he sucked her skin gently at first, then harder until she started panting and her fingers were twining through his hair.
Then she felt it. The little intense sensation she knew all too well. The one that spelled doom.
Shit.
She pulled away. “Did you just give me a hickey?”
“It’s not that bad.” Chase insisted as he inspected her neck, but once she got her hands on a mirror she knew there’d be no convincing her otherwise.
“Luke and Amy are coming home tomorrow for my party. You don’t think they’re going to notice this?” She reached into her bag and wrestled out her compact, then held it up to the offending spot. Then there it was—already bright red and spotty. A big, glaring hickey.
“They’re going to want to know who gave it to me,” she said. “Maybe we should just tell them. It was dumb to keep this secret in the first place. We’re adults, for Christ’s sake.”
“That will not matter to your brother. Trust me. Remember what he did to your prom date?”
Julie winced. “Okay, let’s go get a turtle neck.”
“It’s the middle of the night.”
“Walmart is still open. Now come on.” She took his hand and led him through the woods and back toward his car. When they got there, she swung herself into the front seat and stared straight ahead. It was going to be fine. The hickey, telling her brother—all of it.
But first, she was going to have to keep covering it up.
Present Day
She must have reached for her pack of cigarettes at least fifteen times on the way into the city. Every time, though, she'd look down and find Chase holding her hand instead.
He'd take her palm in his and run his thumb along the seam of her fingers, then down the back of her hand, and she'd close her eyes, wondering over and over again what was waiting for her when she got off the train. She'd made all the calls, done all the arranging, but she knew better than anyone that sometimes things simply fell apart...and with Troy manning the show, things were pretty likely to fall apart.
Oh god, Troy.
Her stomach heaved again as she considered the idea of seeing his stupid blond hair again or his vain, selfish brown eyes.
How had she ever fallen for a guy like that when she'd once been in love with a guy like Chase? Had her standards seriously fallen that far?
She glanced over at him and quirked her mouth to the side. He really was something else. His chestnut hair was swept to the side and his eyes were thoughtful as he stared out the window at the rows of housing projects and factories they passed. All the while, he stroked her hand, soothing her almost absentmindedly.
"Chase?" she said, and he turned to look at her, his eyebrows raised just a fraction of an inch.
"What's up?"
"Thanks," she said. "I'm just...I'm not sure if I said it. About the house. Or about the bar with Luke. Or, you know, for all of this." She gestured with her free hand toward the window and he offered her a sympathetic smile.
"It's no problem. Just relax. It's going to be so much better than you think."
"You think?"
"I know. You're running the show. You've got this."
She considered him, the sincerity in his voice. The confidence he had in her. And for the first time all day long,
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