I didn’t move, but Chase, he jumped ten feet.
We were only sitting close, our bodies touching but not wrapped in each other. I think the fire and the sunrise made it look as intimate as it felt, and maybe that was a bit much for the first time he saw Chase and me together. Then again, I lie with Brady all the time and while Mason will make a remark, he doesn’t lose it the way he does when it comes to Chase.
Does he not trust him?
Does he not trust him with me?
Everything was as perfect as it could have been prior to that. I finally had what I’d wanted for so long—that perfect moment with the perfect person. Everything was perfect.
Yet, here we are, the morning after, staring at each other from across an entirely different fire.
We’re sitting on the deck, and Chase is gauging me, a torn expression written along his features as he begs me to understand him when he’s yet to say a word.
Not that he could right now, and for that I’m grateful, because he doesn’t have to for me to know exactly what will leave his mouth should he try.
As promised, we made our way to Nate’s, where our parents cooked us a giant feast. It’s meant to lift our spirits, but the tone is solemn, so I can hide a little behind the hurt we all feel for the young woman who has yet to leave her room this morning.
My brother joins the rest of us on the back deck then, scrubbing his hands down his face as he plops beside me.
“How is she?” I manage to whisper, forcing myself to stay focused on my brother.
Mason sighs. “She said she’s fine, but who knows. Parker said she’s the ‘suffer in silence’ type, so I’m guessing she’s full of shit. She’s safe and where she belongs though, so I guess she’s taken care of. She let Lolli stay in there, so that’s got to be a good sign.”
I nod, and he drops his head onto my shoulder, closing his eyes a moment. Mine flick across the flame.
Chase’s brows draw in so tight, they’re practically touching, and his gaze falls to his lap.
I jolt from the literal pain that shoots through my chest and Mason’s head snaps my way.
He frowns instantly, and I know my eyes are glossed over, but I offer a tight smile, one he convinces himself is for the pain our family is going through.
My mom comes out then, hands full, but refusing help as she lays out a buffet on the picnic table my uncle Ian made as a gift for Lolli and Nate.
My mom stacks all our plates full, something I know she’ll miss, and my dad delivers them to where we sit.
The meal is more or less eaten in silence, or if there is conversation, I miss it, too lost in the whispers in my own mind to hear anything around me.
A little while later, everyone’s shuffling again, and my mom slips up. She hugs me, quietly sharing something with me, but I miss it too.
The next time I look up, it’s just us again, Chase and me, his plate sitting untouched before him.
He hasn’t moved.
I wish he would.
I wish he’d leave, but I know better than that.
Especially since his eyes, they’re locked on me, again or still… I don’t know, but I want him to look away, because I can’t, and it’s slowly killing me inside.
The troubled and tormented expression staring back at me right now, imploring me to understand shouldn’t be there.
I should be looking into the eyes of a determined, resolute man ready to hurdle mountains, tumble and fall, and climb to our feet again until we find the steady base at the top. Together. That’s what love looks like, right?
A mess of emotions?
A bumpy ride?
A thrilling experience?
But who the hell am I to say what love is?
All I know of it is what I’ve seen from my parents, and this is nothing like that.
This is agonizing.
Gazing at him now, at the flick of the flame as it bounces off those green eyes of his, both dim and dejected, I wonder if I’m being unfair.
Chase and I, we hadn’t really gotten to a starting point, then this morning happened.
Our emotions were out of sorts, we were hurting and confused, focused on loss and lost in what-ifs. The moment got the best of us.
We went from spunky attraction to sex on the beach under the bright moon.
From nothing to one hundred—real quick.
I want to grin at my inability to lock lyrics out of my head, but I can’t find it in me to acknowledge that piece of me right now.
The certainty of the situation is clear. Only a fool would deny what’s more than obvious, and that is what meant more than I’ll admit to myself, must have meant so much less to him.