Just One Week (Just One Song) (31 page)

I take off her shirt and look at her breasts. They’re perfect, really, and perfectly fitted into a dark purple lace bra. Ashley reaches for my shirt and I let her pull it up as far as she can before I grab the collar at the back of my neck and pull it over my head.

“Wow,” she whispers, staring at my chest and my abs, then moving to my tattoos on my shoulder.

“You still want to do this?” I raise an eyebrow, tilting my head to the right so I can look directly at her. For a split second, I hope she says no. And again, I feel like a prick, but I don’t know if I want to be ‘that guy’ anymore.

“Yes.” Her eyes aren’t trying to manipulate me. She’s excited but in an innocent way. I almost want to keep asking her about the fantasies she’s had. Ask her to explain them to me in detail to get things moving along. She seems like a nice enough girl; attractive and only a few years younger than me.

I give my guy a pep-talk and tell him to perk the hell up. She’s okay with this, which means I’m not the ass I think I am.

My hand moves to her neck and I tilt her head so her lips meet mine perfectly. I fight past the taste and the feel of them, knowing she’s not Mia, but deciding it doesn’t matter anymore. She doesn’t want me. Ashley, though, she wants me, and right now, I’ll take it.

She moans again, and I can’t do it anymore. The sounds, the feel, the taste … it’s all so … not what I want right now.

“Ashley,” I say and take a step back from her. I may not be a dick for taking advantage of her right now, but as her eyes open and she realizes what’s happening, her cheeks turn hot pink and she turns her head from mine. I’m a dick for completely humiliating her. “I can’t do this.”

I reach down to grab my shirt just as I hear the front door open and close.

“Chase?”

I pull back from Ashley and her face is pale white. I’m guessing mine is the same.

Fuck. A. Duck.

This is not happening.

She did not just walk into my house.

Why in the hell is she in my house?

“Is she who you wanted to forget?” My head snaps to Ashley. I don’t even want to know what the look on my face says, but hers doesn’t say she’s about ready to throw a tantrum. Thank Christ.

She pulls her shirt on.

“I’m so sorry.” I’m sorry I’m an asshole. I’m sorry I hit on you. I’m sorry I brought you back here. Those three words apologize for a multitude of my sins over the last hour or two.

“It’s okay.” And it looks like she means it. “It’ll just be a shorter story to tell the friends and grandkids someday.” She smiles and then looks around the room. “Is there somewhere I can sneak out?”

God, I wish. There’s no way out except to the beach and Mia’s going to walk around that corner any second.

I shake my head and then see Mia in the doorway.

“No.” I think I’m speaking to both of them at the same time. No, I’m not fucking this girl. No, there’s no way out. No, this is not what it looks like.

Mia knows. Instantly. A stupid woman she is not.

Shit.

Her eyes are wide and her face pales as she glances between Ashley and me and then the shot glasses. At least we’re re-dressed.

Tension fills my house so thickly I think I might drown in it.

“I called Nicole when I landed. She said you left the hospital and thought you came back here to shower.”

Her eyes are blank. There is no anger or any emotion whatsoever shown on her face. And her voice? It’s dry. Hollow.

I close my eyes, press my lips together, and nod once. No one moves. This isn’t happening. Except it is. Mia’s here. She came to see me and this is what she catches me doing? I want to set my head on fire over the indoor grill.

“Yeah …” I clear my throat and try again. “Yeah. What are you doing here?”

“To see you.” Her voice is dry. She’s hurting and it’s my fault. “Am I interrupting?”

“Huh? Oh …” Ashley is still here, standing in between me and Mia, and I completely forgot.

“No worries, I’m on my way out.” She hops off the counter with a bright smile on her face and doesn’t look at either of us.

“I’ll walk …” I start to say but she cuts me off with a slight raise of her hand.

“Don’t worry about it. Bye, Chase.”

And then she’s gone, skittering away like a scared little mouse and I’m left with Mia, alone. She looks like how I’ve felt for the last two months.

Hurt. Lost. Pissed. Confused. I see it all.

My head drops and I put my hands on my hips, shaking my head. “This isn’t what it looks like.”

I can’t even look at her. Maybe this is a game. Maybe it never was a game. My head is so screwed up, seeing Mia in my house. The house I wanted her – want her – to live in with me. How could I think a night, a few hours, with a nurse could take away all the feelings I have for Mia?

“Do you want a ride to the hospital?”

What? There are a dozen things she could skewer me for and this is what she asks? I wonder briefly if this is like the calm before the storm. She’s going to suck me into the eye of the perfect storm and then all hell will be unleashed on me. Not that I don’t deserve it.

My eyes are drawn to hers. She doesn’t look angry anymore; resigned, maybe. I chew on the inside of my bottom lip, trying to figure her out. Figure us out. Hell, is there even an us? Was there ever an ‘us’?

“Chase. Hospital? Baby?” Mia holds up the keys to something and shakes them back and forth. I take a look at her. She looks good. Really good. She’s wearing short white shorts and a long sleeve top in a bright blue that hangs off one shoulder. Her hair falls halfway down her back in loose curls.

She’s beautiful – just like always.

“You look really good.” I’m an idiot. The look she gives me tells me she thinks the same.

“Have you been drinking?” She ignores my comment and it’s not lost on me. I feel the storm brewing. “Do you need a ride?”

Hell. No. If there’s a fight starting, I want to be in my truck. In my own space.

“I’ll drive my truck.” And then I watch her; really watch her. Mia takes a strand of her hair and slowly … gently … pushes it behind her ear. Her fingernails are bright pink. I look down. They match her toes.

How could I have almost done what I was about to do … which was nothing. Honest. I was going to stop it.

I love her. Shit. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not anymore.

“I’ll follow you then. I don’t know how to get there.”

I don’t care if I have to carry her, but she is getting in my truck. “I’ve had one shot, Mia. I’m fine. Let’s go.”

When I get close to her, I catch it. It’s just the smallest hint of her but it’s exactly what I was hoping for earlier. I can’t help but stop when I get next to her.

“What you saw earlier … it’s not what you think. I just …” I just have no idea how to finish that thought so I don’t. I grab my keys, hanging from a hook to the garage, surprised that Mia is following. “Did you have bags you needed to bring in?”

It hits me. She flew on a plane, by herself, and her first stop is at my house. Did she take a cab? No … she has a car with her. A rental? Probably.

“I’ll take them to Nic’s later. Will you bring me back here to get them?” I want to ask her to yell and scream at me. She’s talking to me in a voice that says she doesn’t give a shit about what she saw, but I know she’s lying because I can see the pain in her eyes. Screw waiting for the storm, I want to hash it out. Now. And then I want to get the bags out of the back of her car, unpack them in my room, and never let her go.

She looks like she might have a problem with that idea right now. I sigh.

“I’ll do whatever you want, Mia.” I mean much more than the words I speak. Her blue eyes hit mine with such intensity I stop breathing. Or thinking. I see her pain from what I just caused, but I also see more. She’s hurting because she loves me and I see it written all over her beautiful face. It’s so apparent that I can’t stop myself from reaching out and cupping her cheek with my hand. “I’m so sorry you just saw that … whatever it was, babe. I wanted to forget how much I’ve missed you and thinking you didn’t want me.”

Her eyes stay on me and her mouth opens just a little bit. God, I love that mouth and her perfect pink lips. They look soft and I know she’s not wearing a lip gloss that tastes like cherries. Her eyes close, breaking the spell she has on me, and her head turns just enough that tells me she doesn’t want me touching her right now.

I don’t blame her. It’s instinct though. Whenever Mia is around, I have to have a hand on her at all times. She calms me. I hope I didn’t completely fuck this up … whatever this is right now.

“There’s a baby coming, and everyone wants you there.”

Right. Baby. They don’t want me there for that. They want me there to kick my fucking ass.

I don’t have a right to be mad at him. I know this. I’ve led him on and pushed him away so many times that it’s not surprising he finally got tired of waiting.

I’m not mad. I’m hurt.

It’s taken me weeks to realize that the only thing in life I want is Chase. I love him.

For the first time in my life, I’ve been able to admit to not only myself, but to my mom, and the rest of my family. Their words when they heard me admit it? Go find him and tell him.

It’s not easy growing up thinking your life was one way only to find out that it was all one big façade the parents put on and allowed to give you the childhood they think you deserve. It’s wrecked me over the last few weeks. I can’t stop thinking about all the anger I’ve had directed at my dad when he was really always the same exact man. He may have hid it better when I was younger, but he was the same drunk I saw when my mom got sick. She protected us from his disease, her disease didn’t change him. It’s been a hard pill to swallow.

When I was thirteen and thought my mom was going to die, she sat me down to fill my head with all the motherly wisdom she could before I didn’t have her to listen to anymore. “Find a man worthy of you and settle for nothing less. Love him. And then love him harder. It is possible for the love of a woman to change a man.”

I promised her I would. It’s the first time I remember blatantly lying directly to my mother’s face. I walked out of that room swearing to myself I would never love a man the way she loved him because look at what he had become. It wasn’t anything I wanted any part of.

Except now I’ve had to realize that wasn’t wisdom she shared with me. It was the dying wish of a woman who wished her husband would change for her. I’ve based all of my relationships on that one conversation with my mother and it wasn’t based on a shred of reality.

And now I don’t know how to handle it except to finally go after something that may just help me be a little bit more me. I’ve lost a part of myself since I’ve been to New York. The fashion industry is insanely busy and competitive. It moves at a faster pace than I ever could have imagined and somewhere along the way I’ve lost myself.

Being with Chase reminds me of who I really am.

And I want him. Except now I’m facing the very real possibility that he’s moving on. I’m facing the task, for the first time in my life, of putting my heart on a line and risking it being shredded. It’s terrifying and I can’t stop my knees from shaking as we barrel down the highway in Chase’s larger than life black truck toward the hospital.

My heart shredding can wait.

“How’s Chloe doing?” I ask to finally break the silent tension. He feels like shit for getting caught with that girl. I can tell. I see his regret written plainly across his face and in the way he’s been gripping the steering wheel as if it will sprout wings and fly away if he lets go or loosens his grip for a split second. His knuckles are white and the veins in his forearms are sticking out like he just took a dose of steroids.

He turns his head to me once, then twice and frowns. If he’s expecting me to yell at him, he’s wasting his time. I’m not ready to talk about any of this … yet. We will. I just want a few more minutes to avoid it.

“She was tired when I stopped in earlier but doing okay.” I nod and there’s silence. More silence except the radio playing and the beat of the tires against pavement. “How did you get here? Is it safe for you to travel?”