“I thought about what you said. That you’re not the type of girl I’d want to date. You were right, but you had it the other way around. I’m not the kind of guy you want to date.”
A beat passes between us, and my heart is hammering away in my chest. He’s making me nervous. Irritated. And a little turned on.
He’s making me feel.
“And now I understand how insulting it is to be told who’d you want to date.”
“Right?” he quips. “I’m sorry. I should have called.”
“It’s okay.” I pull the blanket tighter around myself and look out the window. Beams of sunlight bounce off the water, and shadows dance along the shore. A deer emerges from the woods to get a drink.
“She comes almost every morning,” Chase says softly.
“She’s beautiful.”
“Yeah,” he agrees, but he’s not looking at the deer. “She is.”
Not making any sudden movements, we inch to the window to watch the deer. She takes her time getting water and then leaps off into the woods. A few more follow, moving so fast they’re just blurs of fawn amongst shades of green.
“Do you want to get something for breakfast?” Chase asks. “I’d offer to make you something, but I’m still adjusting to this whole ‘I have to cook for myself’ thing like I told you about.”
I smile and turn to him, appreciating the full beauty of his stubble-covered face. “Yeah, I’m getting—wait. No. We can’t.”
“Why?”
“If we go out for breakfast together, especially with me dressed like this, people will think we slept together.”
“Is that a bad thing?” He flashes a grin and I struggle to hold onto my resolve.
I lower my gaze. “People talk.”
“Then give them something to talk about.”
I stare at a knot in the hardwood floor under my feet, wondering how many people walked over this in the years this building has been here. People who watched the river with sharp intent, needing the water to remain steady to keep the mill running. “Take me home and I’ll make you breakfast as a thank you for taking care of me. I’m not a master chef or anything, but I’m not terrible either. I do have stuff to make beignets, actually.”
Chase gives me a blank stare.
“You’ve never had a beignet?” My voice gets high-pitched from sheer horror.
“I don’t even know what that is.”
“Oh, you’re in for a treat then. I won’t tell you what it is either. You’ll have to be surprised.”
Chase laughs. “It’s some weird southern food, like the fried lobster everyone around here loves, isn’t it?”
“Crawfish,” I correct. “And if it were, you wouldn’t try it?”
“Not unless you want to hit me with an EpiPen minutes later.”
“Oh. You’re allergic to shellfish?”
“Very.”
“Good thing you told me. And no, beignets aren’t fish. It’s a dessert-ish food.”
“Dessert-ish?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s not a word.”
I raise an eyebrow. “I just said it, so it is a word.”
“I’m pretty sure it’s not.”
I hike an eyebrow. “It’s not like we’re playing Scrabble here. Dessert-ish is a word and I’m going to use it every chance I get. Just to annoy you.”
Chase watches me, smile growing. I shake my head, but end up smiling too. He moves away from the window. “You left your purse at the bar.” He picks up my little pink clutch and hands it to me. “One of the waitresses saw you drop it which leads me to believe she got it in time, but check to see if anything is missing.”
“Shit. I forgot about it.” I take the purse from him and open it. I don’t keep much in my purse, just my wallet, phone, keys, and lip gloss. “It’s all here, thankfully.” I pull my phone out and see the battery is dead. The only person who’d call me overnight would be Lisa anyway.
Chase opens the fridge, pulls out orange juice, and pours himself a glass. “Want some?”
“Yeah. Just a little bit though.”
He pours half a glass and hands it to me. We move to the couch and sit in silence, watching the early morning sun shine down on the river. Minutes pass in silence, but it’s anything but awkward. As if Chase and I have some sort of unspoken understanding between us, sitting next to him is comforting.
I finish the orange juice and feel sluggish again. I lean back on the couch, eyes growing heavy. Chase rests his back against the cushions too and lets his head fall to the side so he’s looking at me. I inhale and smile, searching his deep eyes for answers about him.
“Tired?” he asks softly.
“Yeah. It’s hitting me all at once.”
“You can go back to sleep. I’ll let you take the blanket.” He gives me his crooked smile again. I thought it was deliberate before because no one has a smile that cocky and sexy without trying. He looks tired too, and I don’t think he’s trying.
“You only have one blanket?”
“Yeah. I usually sleep in my bed with it, so it’s never been a problem.”
“But what if someone stays over?”
“I’ve never run into that issue before. When attractive women sleep in my bed I’m usually in there with them.”
I roll my eyes and pull the blanket out from around my shoulders. I cover us both up, and Chase leans in, reaching out and tucking my hair behind my ear. Our eyes lock and I think he’s going to kiss me.
I want him to, though in the back of my mind I’m well aware that I threw up last night, passed out, and have yet to brush my teeth.
A knock on the door interrupts us and Chase’s brow furrows. It’s early. No one comes over this early with good news. He springs up and strides to the door. I stand, loosely holding the blanket in my hands.
Chase opens the door, revealing his brother. My heart lurches in my chest, and I’m sent backward through time and space and it’s like I’m standing in The Book Bag listening to that phone call all over again. Josh has bad news. Terrible news. Someone died. Chase’s sister-in-law lost the babies. His niece was in a horrible accident.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you,” Josh starts. “The shipment that’s supposed to come at five pm is here at five fucking am. I hate asking but can—” he cuts off, noticing me. Josh looks at me, taking in what I’m wearing, then back at Chase. He raises his eyebrows, tries not to smile, and fails.
No one is dying. No one is hurt. The only thing that’s wrong is a delivery service not knowing the difference between AM and PM. So why am I teetering on the edge of a panic attack?
“I’ll be right down,” Chase tells him. “Let me, uh, get dressed.”
“Sure. Sorry to interrupt. Morning, Sierra.”
Chase closes the door and turns, grinning. “So that thing you were saying about people thinking we slept together…” The smile disappears from his face. “Are you okay?”
In an instant, he’s here, in front of me. I squeeze my eyes shut, pushing back the tears. My hands shake and my stomach flip-flops. Suddenly I can’t breathe and I desperately try to suck in air.