“We need to go,” Sloane said, trying to shove his arm away.
“No, we really don’t,” Chase said, smiling as he once again closed his eyes and settled in for a nap.
“If we don’t go now, then we won’t get another chance until next week,” she argued as though he knew what the hell she was talking about.
Since he didn’t, Chase decided to give her a chance to clarify things simply because he was feeling generous. “Where is it exactly that we need to go? And why won’t we get a chance to do it until next week if we don’t go now?” Chase asked, not because he cared, but because he liked to know all the plans that she had for him so that he could destroy them one by one.
He was starting to see it as a hobby of sorts.
Giving up on her ineffectual shoves, she folded her arms over her chest and glared at the ceiling, and he only knew this because he peeked. While she glared, Sloane said, “Your sister has decided to fill up your schedule with therapy, neurosurgeons, doctors, chiropractors, and about a million other things that you don’t need at the moment. I was hoping to get you to pick out a new wheelchair since yours is–”
“There’s nothing wrong with my wheelchair,” Chase grumbled, cutting her off because the mention of his sister and her bullshit attempts to run his life was wrecking his good mood.
“It’s warped, one tire wobbles, the seat is worn, the back is ripped, the footrests don’t lock, and if I didn’t know better, I would swear it was a hospital wheelchair,” Sloane said, finishing with a stubborn sigh while he laid there trying not to laugh.
Since he’d stolen it from a hospital, Chase decided not to argue the point. Besides, getting a wheelchair that didn’t cut into his ass might not be such a bad idea.
“We’ll go after our nap,” he said, not really surprised that she hadn’t slapped him yet since patient safety seemed to be a big thing for her.
“Can’t,” Sloane muttered, sounding exhausted as she lay there, giving up glaring and settled for staring at the ceiling.
“Yes, we can,” Chase said, releasing his hold on her so that he could push himself over onto his back and join her in staring at the ceiling and making him wonder when it had become so easy to relax around her.
“No, we really can’t. Your sister scheduled you for five appointments today,” Sloane said as though that was supposed to mean something to him.
“Good for her,” he said, deciding that he’d wasted enough time on this conversation and closed his eyes.
“Chase, I need to take you,” she said, but she didn’t sound very happy about it.
“No.”
“Chase, I need to–”
“If you let me sleep, then I’ll let you take me to go look at wheelchairs without bitching,” he said, sighing heavily as he shifted to get more comfortable.
“That’s not going to work,” Sloane said around a yawn.
“It really is, Pookie,” he said, realizing that this was the first time in a long time that he’d shared a bed with a woman.
Once upon a time, the idea of touching another woman had turned his stomach, but now…
He kind of liked having her in his arms.
Not that he was going to tell her, because he wasn’t a fucking idiot after all. When he turned his head and found her sound asleep, Chase decided to take pity on her and let her sleep before he continued to torment her for his own enjoyment.
Chapter 11
“Really, Pookie? Really?” Chase asked with a pitying shake of his head as he removed the back of the television remote and found the batteries gone. “Is this really the best that you could do?”
“At the moment? Yes,” Sloane said as she gestured toward the front door, praying that he didn’t mention the fact that she’d fallen asleep in his bed since she would really like to pretend that never happened.
“Pathetic,” he said with another sad shake of his head, tossing the remote back on the couch and released the brakes on his wheelchair so that he could roll himself toward the front door.
When he actually did as she asked, Sloane hid her surprise and followed him outside only to have him gesture for her to step aside so that he could shut the door after her and lock it. Once he was done, Chase gestured for her to go ahead of him, which of course, put her on instant alert.
“Yeah, I don’t think so,” Sloane said, gesturing for him to go ahead of her.
“Don’t trust me?” Chase asked with a wink, chuckling as he continued to roll past her and headed for the car, further freaking her out a bit because he was being a little too cooperative.
“No, not really,” Sloane said, keeping a wary eye on him as she joined him by the passenger door, wondering what he was up to and he was definitely up to something.
“I can’t believe you don’t trust me,” Chase said with another heavy sigh as she unlocked the car door and opened it for him while he leaned over and pulled his legs free. He moved the footplates aside so that he could scoot forward in his chair and place his feet on the ground.
With a charming smile that had her narrowing her eyes on him, Chase reached out, grabbed onto the side of the car and pulled himself up, leaving her with no choice but to ignore the warning bells going off in her head and help him. Once she had her arm around him, she helped steady him and took some of his weight so that she could help him sit down in the passenger seat.
When he said, “Thanks, Pookie,” she swore that she saw her life flash before her eyes.
“You’re welcome,” Sloane mumbled absently, swallowing nervously as she shifted her gaze around them, expecting the worst and wondering why he was suddenly being so accommodating.
“Everything okay, Pookie?” Chase asked, reluctantly drawing her attention back to find him watching her with an unholy gleam in his eye that had her narrowing her eyes on him.
“Whatever you’re planning, Chase, don’t. Just don’t,” Sloane said firmly, hoping that would be the end of it.
Instead of answering her, he simply chuckled as he reached past her and closed his door, leaving her standing there until she realized that she was glaring at him like an idiot. With a snort of disgust at herself for letting him get to her like this, Sloane shoved his wheelchair toward the back of the mini-van and decided that she was just being paranoid.
*-*-*-*
Maybe he’d pushed her too far? Chase wondered as he pushed his brand-new wheelchair toward the kitchen, deciding that it would probably be for the best if he gave the overwrought woman a little space since she seemed to be on the verge of some sort of breakdown.
“I-I’m going to kill you,” Sloane managed to choke out, making him chuckle.
“It could have been worse,” he pointed out as he rolled himself into the kitchen, noting that this new wheelchair was definitely an improvement over the last one.
“You’re a jerk,” Sloane said on the way to her bedroom, making him chuckle as he opened the refrigerator and loaded his lap with deli meat, cheese, lettuce, tomatoes, and every condiment he could get his hands on.
Hoping for some chips to go with his sandwich, he placed everything on the kitchen table and rolled over to the counter. Since she insisted on using the cabinets instead of piling everything on the counters, he was forced to lock his wheelchair, grab the armrests and push himself up, and just before he had to put weight on his useless legs, he shifted his weight forward, grabbed onto the counter and leaned forward on his elbows. Grinding his jaw, Chase ignored the way that his arms trembled and shifted his weight to his right so that he could reach up and open the large cabinet door above him.