“She misses you. Every time I see her, she asks me about you.” Tears fill Emily’s eyes. Fuck, that’s not what I was going for. I wanted her to know that my mom still loves her and wishes she came around.
“I don’t want to do this. Why are we here?” She steps back, causing my hand to fall away from her face. I let her. It takes everything in me not to reach for her, but she’s been drinking, and I honestly don’t trust myself right now.
4
Emily
“You need food,” Chase says as we step off the elevator into his condo. I had no clue he lived here. I actually didn’t know where he lived. For some reason, I thought he’d still be at his family's estate. The place is massive and has a few homes on it besides the main one.
The Silversteins have also built all kinds of different buildings not only in this city but across the States. I try not to think about Chase and where he lives, but now that I’m here I can’t help but peek around.
“Sure, I’ll eat.” I’m not that hungry, but curiosity wins out. “You cooking?”
“I can or I’ll order in.” I smile, knowing Chase knows how to cook because of his mom.
“Doesn’t matter to me.”
“I’ll whip something up.” I fight a yawn as I follow him through the empty living room. The place is updated and modern but really empty. In the living room, there is a sofa and a TV mounted on the wall.
Nothing hangs on any of the walls. It looks like a typical bachelor pad. A very expensive one but still. There are no personal touches anywhere.
“Has your mom been here?” I ask because I can’t imagine she has, considering how impersonal this place looks.
“You think I own a place my mom hasn’t been all up in?” Chase laughs again, making me smile. This feels too much like old times.
“And she’s okay with this?” I do a circle motion with my finger. “I can’t even say this place looks staged because even a staged condo would have more décor and furniture than this.”
“I suppose it’s what most call a bachelor pad. I don’t need much for now.” If I was hungry, that would have definitely soured my stomach. I take a closer look around and wonder how many women he’s brought back to this place.
It hurts. I’ve been in love with this man for as long as I can remember, and thinking of him with someone else kills me. I know it’s irrational, but I can’t stop the thoughts. I think more than anything I want someone to pick me first and stick it out.
My mind starts to torture me, wondering if he’s banged someone on that sofa or this kitchen island. This is what I always do. My mind always goes to the worst places.
“Bathroom?” I need a minute to get myself together. I will not turn into a needy mess in front of him.
“Use the one in the master. I don’t have the others stocked. It's at the end of the hallway.” He points.
Being nosy, I peek into each door as I pass them. I find two empty bedrooms with absolutely nothing in them. Next is an office. I slip inside and know this is where Chase spends most of his time. I can smell him here. I walk around to his desk and pause when I see a picture frame. It’s of Asher, Chase, and me. It’s really the only personal touch I’ve seen in this place.
Not wanting to get caught looking at it, I put it down and head for the master to use the bathroom. Even his bedroom is plain with white sheets and pillows on the bed.
I open a few of the drawers in the bathroom, knowing what I’m looking for. Things that might belong to a woman. A hair tie or lip gloss. Something small that could easily be left behind, but Chase is rather clean. I come up empty.
When I exit the bathroom, my eyes go straight for the nightstand. I know the right side is his because a phone charger is there along with a book and a notepad. A man’s nightstand is the equivalent of a female's purse. It’s off-limits to look inside if you’re not the owner. I’m not sure if that holds true for men, but since Chase went through my purse, I’m calling fair game.
I pull the drawer open, expecting to see a box of condoms or something, but all that’s there is a bag of Tootsie Rolls. A sweet treat that we both always loved. Asher would make fun of us and say it’s old people candy, but Chase always had some in his pocket, and he’d pull one out and give it to me. It would be softer than normal from having been in his pocket, which made it even better.
“Find what you're looking for?”
“You know I love these.” I snag one out of the drawer, playing it off as though I wasn’t being nosy.
“You can peek around all you want, baby girl. I don’t give a shit.” The hell? Did he call me baby girl? It’s always been little girl, which pisses me the hell off. Never before has he referred to me as baby girl. I have no clue what to make of that. Maybe I’m drunker than I realized.
“I was sure I’d find condoms, but this was a nice surprise.” I pop one of the sweet treats in my mouth and leave the wrapper on the nightstand, knowing Chase tends to want things to be tidy.
“This isn’t a fuck pad, Emily.” His playfulness quickly fades away. “Food’s ready.”
“That was fast.”
“Mom had some stuff I could heat up. I picked the lasagna. I know it’s your favorite of hers.” He puts his hand on my back to guide me out of the bedroom.
How does he remember that’s my favorite? It’s been years since I went over to his family home. But he’s right: his mom’s lasagna is my favorite. She always made it with only chopped hamburger meat and didn’t add sausage like most people do.
“You don’t have a table.” I laugh when we pass the empty dining room.
“We never used the dining room.” No, at his home, they never did. Cooking was a part of the whole dinner process, and everyone ate at the giant kitchen island. Not everyone cooked, but they would still hang out while the others did. I always loved that they all enjoyed spending time with each other. It was nice to see a functional family, and it was a break when I was younger from my dysfunctional one.
“Two chairs.”
“Only two people.” He pulls one out for me. I sit, placing the napkin on my lap. I force myself to take a bite of the lasagna, but the second it hits my lips, so many memories come flying back to me of being back in his old home. In minutes, I have my plate cleaned. “You should stay the night. It’s late. We’ll drive your car home tomorrow, and I’ll have one of my drivers pick me up.”
“Stay the night here?” A squeak. “Your bedrooms are all empty, and I don’t know what’s happened on that sofa.” I point to the giant leather sectional. “Or your bed.”
Chase drops our dishes into the sink, making me jump at how hard they land. I wonder if they broke. “This isn’t a fuck pad.” I roll my eyes.
“Roll your eyes again, little girl, and you’ll regret it.” All the air leaves my lungs as an expression I’ve never seen before crosses Chase’s face. I want to push, but for some reason, I don’t.
“Okay, I’ll stay. I need to be home early—”
“For your dad’s party. I know.” Right, I’m sure he’ll be there. I can’t help but wonder if he’ll be bringing a date. I want to ask, but I don’t have the balls or the heart to. “My bed is big; we'll share it,” he informs me before entering his closet. He comes out a second later wearing only a pair of sweatpants and hands me a shirt.