She shut the apartment door in his face. Chase stared blindly at it. He wanted nothing more than to kick it down again, to demand that she love him as fervently and passionately as he loved her.
Because that worked so well for you last time, didn't it?
He knew he was overwhelming and impetuous and generally an all-round massive pain in the ass. Enough people had told him so, on a
daily basis, pretty much his entire life.
But he'd always assumed that his fated mate would like that about him. Growing up, he'd just thought one day that he'd meet his mate, sweep her off her feet, and carry her off triumphantly into the sunset.
Three years ago, he'd met Connie. And she'd taken one look at him, and run away as fast as her legs could carry her.
Admittedly, in retrospect it might have been the wrong tactic to propose to her before even asking her name.
Chase had spent an entire month hanging round Kilkenny Airport every single day, under the excuse of taking flying lessons from her father, just for the chance to be near her. When she'd finally spoken to him again at last, her words—“Pass me that torque wrench”—were the most beautiful poetry he'd ever heard.
A month to get her to talk to him. Another month of slowly, so slowly winning her trust, persuading her that he wasn’t just some flighty playboy trying to get into her pants.
She’d finally, finally let him take her out on a date. One date turned into two, three, more…
They’d spent a single, glorious month together as a couple. Even though she’d never let him get further than a few stolen kisses, it had been the best month of his entire life.
And then, just when she’d seemed ready to fully let him into her heart at last, he'd thrown it all away.
He still didn’t know what had happened. Connie had called him to invited him round to her apartment that night ‘for dinner’, with a shyness that had made the subtext clear. He’d been so jubilant and nervous that the hours until the evening had seemed endless. He’d gone out to his club for a drink, just one, to pass the time.
The next thing he knew, he’d woken up in bed with two women he’d never met before, and Connie staring at him from the doorway with shocked, hurt eyes.
And then she’d turned on her heel, and walked out of his life.
Not again. Not this time.
Chase took a deep breath, straightening his shoulders. Much as he longed to charge back immediately, trying to explain things to her right now would be like running a race while wearing shackles. He was hobbled by the fact that there was so much he wasn't allowed to tell her. If only she understood that he was a shifter, and she was his mate… but that was impossible.
But that was about to change.
#
Connie's roof turned out to have excellent cellphone reception. Chase sat cross-legged on the tiles, impatiently hitting Redial over and over again. Happily, it took a mere eighteen attempts before someone picked up.
“Chase,” growled his cousin's irate Irish voice. “It is one o'clock in the fucking morning.”
“Killian?” Chase blinked. “That you? What are you doing with my father's phone?”
“Handling his business calls for him while he's on vacation. And it took me and your mom eight solid months of arguing with him to persuade him to take this break, so no, I am not putting you through. Whatever crisis you're having this time can wait.”
“No, it really can't.” Unable to sit still, Chase bounced to his feet, pacing back and forth along the ridgeline. “Killian, you'll never believe it. Connie's here!”
There was a moment of stunned silence from the other end of the line. “Your mate?”
“Yes!” Words poured out of him uncontrollably at being able to talk to someone who would understand. “And she's talking to me again, and I proposed, and her dad's in hospital, and I saved her from a fire, and—your detectives were wrong, she was in America, by the way—anyway, she's back now with her plane for the Rydon Cup air race, and there's this shark shifter called Sammy Smiles who wants to kill her because he doesn't want her to win it, but I'm going to make sure she does, so he's probably going to come after me, too.”
“What?” Killian said, as if none of that had made any sense whatsoever.
“Never mind, that's not the important part,” Chase said impatiently. “We had sex!”
“You did what?” Killian sounded utterly appalled.
“And then I messed everything up,” Chase admitted.