all three. Vaguely, she heard Imagine Dragons’ “Demons” coming from her phone’s speakers. Fitting.
She felt like she should warn Chase that she had demons hiding inside. Danger. Stay away. Don’t get too close.
“Well, that’s not Texas country.”
She snorted into his shirt before taking a deep breath. He smelled like sun and skin and everything she’d ever wanted but couldn’t have. She’d noticed it earlier on the boat, when he’d kissed her.
His scent made her mouth water.
“I told you, I listen to a little bit of everything, just mostly Texas country.”
“Who is this?”
“Imagine Dragons.” She shrugged. “I like their sound.”
“It’s interesting.”
She pulled away from him. “You don’t like it.”
“I didn’t say that.”
His voice was slightly teasing, and she finally chanced a look up at him. Their gazes met, and Jo felt like she’d been punched in the gut.
“Don’t feel sorry for me, Chase.”
He twirled a lock of her hair around his index finger, his brow furrowed in thought, before he met her gaze again. “I don’t feel sorry for you, Jo. I feel bad for the girl you were, and I wish you would have just told me that stuff was going on instead of pushing me away.”
She drew a deep breath, and had apparently drunk just enough wine to loosen her tongue, because the next thing out of her mouth was an unplanned, “That wasn’t what did it. Not really. I overheard my mom on the phone one day. She was hitting on someone—very explicitly telling whoever it was what she wanted to do to him. I’d suspected she cheated on my dad, and when I heard her…I was disgusted and embarrassed, and thought I might be sick because that was my mom saying those things, but I couldn’t move. It was like I was frozen in the hallway. And then she said your dad’s name, and I really did almost get sick then. She got kind of mad, and then sweet again, and hung up. I knew your dad loved your mom and wouldn’t ever cheat on her, but at the time I felt like it was somehow my fault, that if you and I hadn’t been friends maybe she never would have hit on him. I was embarrassed and sick and disgusted with my mom and very, very stupidly pushed you away in an attempt to protect you and your family from my mother.”
She chanced a glance up at Chase’s face, only to find his expression incredibly difficult to read. Wine. She needed more wine. There was none. She blindly groped for his beer.
“I’m not sure which one of us needs that more right now.”
Jo almost choked in relief. He was speaking. Thank God, he was speaking.
“All this time, I thought it was me.”
“You?” she asked stupidly.
“The scars. You saw the scars. Not long after that you stopped talking to me.”
She reached up and cupped his cheek. “Oh, Chase. No. It was my stupid mom and me being a dumb, scared teenager. That day I saw the scars? I wanted you to kiss me so bad my teeth hurt. It was my stupid, stupid mother.”
~~*~~
Jo’s words, her hand on his cheek, the tears glistening in her eyes and answers—thank God finally, some more answers—gripped Chase and had his brain spinning.
He ached. Ached for the girl she’d been and the boy he’d been, caught up in and victims of stupid adult decisions and teenage angst. Ached for what they could have been and the time they’d lost. Ached for her.
He just…ached.
So he did the only thing he could think to do, the only thing that made any sense in the swirling morass in his head. He kissed her.
For the second time that day.
It was meant as comfort. For him. For her. He really wasn’t sure.
Just…comfort.
He’d meant to gently brush her lips with his own, just once or twice.
For comfort.
But he ached.
And comfort quickly turned into something more than comfort as her tongue tangled with his and he could feel her shuddered breath beneath his palms. He’d purposely kept distance between them in the boat earlier, needing to know and yet not ready
She felt like she should warn Chase that she had demons hiding inside. Danger. Stay away. Don’t get too close.
“Well, that’s not Texas country.”
She snorted into his shirt before taking a deep breath. He smelled like sun and skin and everything she’d ever wanted but couldn’t have. She’d noticed it earlier on the boat, when he’d kissed her.
His scent made her mouth water.
“I told you, I listen to a little bit of everything, just mostly Texas country.”
“Who is this?”
“Imagine Dragons.” She shrugged. “I like their sound.”
“It’s interesting.”
She pulled away from him. “You don’t like it.”
“I didn’t say that.”
His voice was slightly teasing, and she finally chanced a look up at him. Their gazes met, and Jo felt like she’d been punched in the gut.
“Don’t feel sorry for me, Chase.”
He twirled a lock of her hair around his index finger, his brow furrowed in thought, before he met her gaze again. “I don’t feel sorry for you, Jo. I feel bad for the girl you were, and I wish you would have just told me that stuff was going on instead of pushing me away.”
She drew a deep breath, and had apparently drunk just enough wine to loosen her tongue, because the next thing out of her mouth was an unplanned, “That wasn’t what did it. Not really. I overheard my mom on the phone one day. She was hitting on someone—very explicitly telling whoever it was what she wanted to do to him. I’d suspected she cheated on my dad, and when I heard her…I was disgusted and embarrassed, and thought I might be sick because that was my mom saying those things, but I couldn’t move. It was like I was frozen in the hallway. And then she said your dad’s name, and I really did almost get sick then. She got kind of mad, and then sweet again, and hung up. I knew your dad loved your mom and wouldn’t ever cheat on her, but at the time I felt like it was somehow my fault, that if you and I hadn’t been friends maybe she never would have hit on him. I was embarrassed and sick and disgusted with my mom and very, very stupidly pushed you away in an attempt to protect you and your family from my mother.”
She chanced a glance up at Chase’s face, only to find his expression incredibly difficult to read. Wine. She needed more wine. There was none. She blindly groped for his beer.
“I’m not sure which one of us needs that more right now.”
Jo almost choked in relief. He was speaking. Thank God, he was speaking.
“All this time, I thought it was me.”
“You?” she asked stupidly.
“The scars. You saw the scars. Not long after that you stopped talking to me.”
She reached up and cupped his cheek. “Oh, Chase. No. It was my stupid mom and me being a dumb, scared teenager. That day I saw the scars? I wanted you to kiss me so bad my teeth hurt. It was my stupid, stupid mother.”
~~*~~
Jo’s words, her hand on his cheek, the tears glistening in her eyes and answers—thank God finally, some more answers—gripped Chase and had his brain spinning.
He ached. Ached for the girl she’d been and the boy he’d been, caught up in and victims of stupid adult decisions and teenage angst. Ached for what they could have been and the time they’d lost. Ached for her.
He just…ached.
So he did the only thing he could think to do, the only thing that made any sense in the swirling morass in his head. He kissed her.
For the second time that day.
It was meant as comfort. For him. For her. He really wasn’t sure.
Just…comfort.
He’d meant to gently brush her lips with his own, just once or twice.
For comfort.
But he ached.
And comfort quickly turned into something more than comfort as her tongue tangled with his and he could feel her shuddered breath beneath his palms. He’d purposely kept distance between them in the boat earlier, needing to know and yet not ready
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