A Lot Like You

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A Lot Like You Page 24

by Lane, Soraya


  She sighed, her shoulders going from bunched up to low and relaxed. Chase watched as she unwrapped her next burger, her painted pink fingernails almost comical against the greasy bun. He laughed and it made her look up.

  “I’m such a screw up where we’re concerned,” he said, reaching for his soda and draining the rest of the takeout cup. “I can run the biggest ranch in Texas, deal with any shit thrown my way in life, but when it came to you, I just dropped the ball.”

  “I think we’re both to blame,” Hope said, putting her burger back down without taking a bite. “We’re all about coulda, shoulda, woulda, right?”

  Chase shrugged. “Maybe. But I’m not gonna mess things up between us again. And that’s a promise.”

  He started eating his burger, wolfing it down as she took a few delicate bites of hers, clearly not ravenous any longer. When he finished he wiped his mouth with a napkin and bent over to plant a kiss on her lips.

  “What was that for?” she asked, sounding surprised.

  “That,” he said, “is because I think I’m falling in love with you all over again, Hope.”

  She looked stunned, her mouth forming a perfect O. “You are?”

  “Yeah,” he said, smug as hell. “And for once, I’m not afraid to just come out and say it.”

  He was sick of playing his cards so close to his chest, of not letting anyone too close except for family. One woman had burned him, and he’d let it hold him back for too long. Sure, Hope had screwed up too, but he’d told her he’d give her a second chance, and he’d meant it.

  “Now what do you say we head to our old hangout?” he asked, holding out a hand and swinging her up to her feet.

  Hope looked unconvinced. “You sure you don’t want to act our age?”

  “Not a chance.” Chase grinned. “I promised the lady jello shots, and that’s exactly what she’s gonna get.”

  “Hey, I’m not complaining. I just…”

  “Forgot that they have a band playing live on Saturday?” Chase interrupted, hugging her body close to his as they headed back in the same direction they’d come from. “You want to head there now or go and get changed?”

  “I’m good. Besides, if we go back we might never make it out again,” Hope said, her hand slipping into his jean’s pocket.

  He glanced down at his jeans and worn tee. “Let’s go.”

  “You sure about the live band?” she asked. “For all we know, the bar could have closed down by now.”

  Chase kissed the top of her head, inhaling her sweet shampoo smell. He’d always liked the fragrance, but now that he’d actually been the one to massage the stuff through her hair and see the suds wash down over her gorgeous body? He grinned as a strand blew up and across his face. Hell, he’d never smell it without thinking about her wet and covered in suds again.

  “I asked at the burger joint, and it’s still a crowd favorite.” Plus he had plans to do more than just drink with her there.

  * * *

  Hope surveyed the bar. She’d never really felt old before, but surrounded by a bunch of college kids? She felt ancient.

  “These girls are making me feel like I have crows’-feet and should have a walking frame or something.”

  “These girls? They’re not even close to looking as good as you.” Chase looked around like she was crazy. In reality, she knew he was lying. There was no way he didn’t find any of the gorgeous young women, some wearing a whole lot of nothing, insanely attractive.

  “Liar, liar, pants on fire,” she said, bumping her hip into his. “You’re not going to offend me by admitting how cute these girls are.”

  Chase shrugged. “So they’re cute. So what? You’re fucking gorgeous.”

  Hope reached for the drinks that arrived in front of them. Two jello shots, four tequilas, and two beers. She wasn’t convinced that mixing alcohol was their best move, but she wasn’t going to be a party pooper, not with Chase.

  “Jello first?” she asked, brow raised.

  “Your choice.”

  She nodded and reached for hers, choosing orange and leaving Chase with the green one. He followed her lead and took his, grinning before sucking it down.

  “Oh man, I forgot how good they were.” Hope licked her lips.

  “And I forgot how damn good you looked when you lick your lips like that.” Chase moved up into her space, leaning forward and kissing her lower lip only, plucking at it, before kissing her mouth properly. “That’s the reason I always bought you shots.”

  “Bullshit,” she muttered, eyes on his mouth still, wanting more kisses.

  “No shit,” he shot straight back. “I hate jello.”

  Hope started laughing and found it almost impossible to stop. She dropped her head onto Chase’s shoulder, leaning into him. “Seriously, Chase,” she said, shaking off the stupid feeling that she didn’t deserve to be standing beside him after everything that had happened. “How did we end up here? At our age in a college bar?”

  “Sweetheart, look around. We’re the hottest things in this place.”

  Chase slapped her ass and she squealed, only no one heard her over the music, the as-promised band so loud she had to stay pressed against Chase to hear him speak. Not that she minded.

  “So, tequila?” she asked, shouting over the sudden screaming of a group of girls behind them.

  Chase nudged her glass toward her, and then grinned and slid the salt closer, too. Hope took a deep breath, wishing they were just sticking to jello. She kept her eyes on Chase as she raised her hand and sucked the soft skin between her thumb and index finger, making it nice and moist and loving the fact that Chase was groaning. Even without hearing him she could see the strain on his face.

  Hope poured the salt over her hand as Chase bent closer.

  “You’re killing me here.” His voice was as slick and sexy as liquor pouring over ice.

  She ran her tongue over her lips again, slowly this time, playing the game, sucking the salt off her skin. She knocked the shot back in one big gulp, powered by the glint in Chase’s eyes, the desire she saw reflected in his gaze. As soon as the shot was down she sucked the slice of lime, shutting her eyes as the citrus hit her senses.

  “Your turn.” Hope did her best to sound like her head wasn’t spinning from drinking a shot like that, head held high.

  “No problem,” Chase said, voice as smooth as silk.

  He did what she’d just done, except at rapid speed, then he reached for his beer.

  “I guess there’s some badass left in you after all.”

  “What made you ever doubt that?” she asked, pulling her best offended face. “And please don’t tell me the fact that I’m a single mom holding down a job.”

  Chase winked at her. “How about I tell you what made me realize I was wrong?” His smile was naughty as he ran his fingers up and down her back. “It might have been when you wrapped your legs around my head last night, or when you…”

  “Whoa! Enough!” she protested grabbing the next shot and knocking it back faster than she should have.

  “I love the fact that I can still shock you.”

  Chase followed her lead for the second time in minutes, downing his and then almost knocking her off her feet with a smacker of a kiss.

  “What was that for?” she asked, arms slung around his neck as she pulled him back for more.

  They were both happy drunk now, or at least she was both and Chase was definitely the happy part. His lips were warm, the alcohol was buzzing through her, and the only thing she was thinking about was getting Chase back to the motel. They only had one more night alone together, one more night of her pretending to be a woman with zero responsibilities, and she didn’t want to waste a second.

  “Hey, you remember how I used to sing?” Chase asked.

  Hell, did she ever. If there was one thing he’d done that had made her stir-crazy, it was pulling out his guitar and singing just for the hell of it. Every woman in a two-mile radius had probably gone weak-kneed from s
eeing Chase sing, his soulful voice a perfect match to his large frame propped against a wall, one knee up to rest the guitar on, his dark head bent as he plucked at the strings. And the first time she’d heard him play had been in this very bar, the first time they met, when she’d decided not to be another notch on his belt.

  “Why? You going to join the band?” He had a big enough head as it was without her boosting his ego any more by telling him how much she used to love it.

  “It just so happens that I’m going to serenade you.”

  Hope made a coughing kind of sound, her words catching in her throat like she’d just swallowed some tequila down the wrong way. “You’re what?”

  But with one dimple-fueled grin, Chase was backing away and then disappearing into the crowd, leaving her alone at the bar. The band was still playing, and she took her beer and turned her back to the bar, wondering what the hell Chase was up to.

  She sipped her beer and waited, half expecting Chase to just rock back up to the bar and tell her it was a joke. But he didn’t, and when the band finished their song and the speakers went silent, the only noise the rowdy crowd of students, she knew he was doing exactly as he’d threatened.

  The microphone squeaked. “Ah, we’re gonna take a quick break and let ah”—there was a muffled noise before the voice came back on—“Chase King take over for one song.”

  Hope laughed, raising her beer bottle to her lips and smiling into it. She didn’t doubt that he’d just slipped the band a wad of cash to turn a blind eye and let him sing, but she couldn’t have cared less how he did it. She was just happy to sit back and hear him sing, refused to feel embarrassed—no one here knew them, so what the hell did it matter?

  “Excuse me,” Chase said, but he may as well have been talking to himself for all the attention it got him. The tap he made on the microphone helped more. “Free drinks!” he yelled. “Ahhh, that got your attention. I want you all to stay quiet for the next three minutes, okay? Then I’ll put free jello shots on the bar for all of you!”

  There was a round of cheers and Hope smiled. He always did have the uncanny ability to win over a crowd, usually by offering them what they wanted.

  “This song is for a special girl,” Chase said. “She was my first love, my last love, and she’s also my baby mama.”

  Hope slowly pulled the bottle away from her lips. Everything else disappeared; every other sound and distraction just faded away. She pushed her way through the crowd, beer held tight in her hand as she fought to get close enough to see Chase. Her heart was racing as he struck the first chords, as she recognized the song. His head was down, his eyes hidden. All she could see was his dark, unruly hair as he strummed, pinging each note.

  “She’s a good girl, loves her mama. Loves Jesus, and America too…”

  Chase looked up as he sang, his eyes finding hers like he knew exactly where to find her, like he’d known she’d be standing in that exact spot.

  “Free Fallin’” had always been her favorite song and Chase knew it. He’d sung it to her when he was drunk once, something she’d never forgotten, and now he was singing it to her to serenade her.

  If he wanted her in his bed tonight, he’d sure as hell sealed the deal.

  Tears filled her eyes as she listened, but she blinked them away fast, refusing to get emotional. Only she couldn’t help it, because the man she always loved, the man she still loved, was perched on a barstool singing to her like she was the only person in the room, and all she knew was that she didn’t want to lose him again.

  * * *

  Chase strummed the last few chords before setting the guitar down carefully and standing. Applause sounded out, loud and only getting louder as the rowdy bunch realized their free shots were on the way, and Chase jogged down the steps of the makeshift stage, high-fiving the guys he’d bribed to let him up there. It had only taken a couple hundred dollars, probably more than they got paid in some of the dives they performed at.

  He scanned for Hope, finding her standing in the same spot he’d seen her when he’d been singing.

  “Can I buy you a drink?” he asked, putting on a deep drawl as he moved closer to her.

  “No,” she said simply, one corner of mouth tilting up into a sexy smile. “You can take me back to your place.”

  Chase raised his eyebrows and whistled low. “Geez. If I’d known you were that easy I wouldn’t have bothered dusting off my vocal chords like that.”

  Hope’s fingers locked around his when he took her hand, leading her back to the bar. He threw some money down as promised to buy the rounds, tipped the bartender, and pushed through the crowd to the exit. He’d forgotten what college was like, and he was pretty sure if they hung around any longer they’d end up wishing they hadn’t.

  “I didn’t know you still sang,” Hope said as they emerged from the packed bar, the fresh air like a blast of reality as they hit the pavement.

  “Neither did I.” Chase let go of her hand to pull her closer against him, wanting to keep her warm and protect her from the idiots yelling and staggering around them. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d sung, either.

  “Did you mean it?” she asked, forcing him to stop walking when she did.

  Chase turned, staring down at Hope. “What part?”

  “The part when you said I was your first love.” Her gaze was filled with something he hadn’t seen before, like she was finally opening herself up to him.

  “I only say what I mean,” Chase said, cupping her cheek and never taking his eyes off hers. “I do love you, Hope. I loved you then and I love you now, the only difference is that I’m not scared of telling you this time around.”

  She didn’t say anything, but she did lean into him, her face pressed to his palm.

  “I don’t think I needed so much to drink tonight,” she murmured, leaning forward and into him, her head bumping into his chest.

  “So you’d rather go back to the motel than head to another bar?”

  She groaned. “You betcha.”

  Chase threw his arm around her and pressed her body back against his, his lips on her hair as they walked. “I do love you, Hope,” he said.

  “I know you do,” she said back, her voice low.

  What she didn’t know was that she was the only woman he’d said those words to. They were three little words that he’d always choked on with anyone else, even Stacey, but not Hope.

  “I love you, too, Chase,” Hope whispered, her arm wrapped tight around him.

  “Why do I feel a but coming?” he joked, wishing he hadn’t tried to be funny when he should have been screaming from the rooftops that she’d said it back to him.

  “No buts, Chase,” Hope said, kissing him as they walked, her lips skimming the side of his mouth. “I just can’t believe we’re finally here. Like this.”

  “Well, believe it, baby,” he said, slipping his hand into the pocket of her jeans. “And just in case you don’t, I’m gonna spend all night proving to you just how real this is. Okay?”

  Hope’s laughter was muffled against his chest. “You’re a bad, bad influence on me, Chase King.”

  He nipped her lower lip and made her squeal. “That’s what all the dads say when I date their daughters.”

  Chase hadn’t thought he’d be able to, but tonight all he cared about was replicating their one night together, which he’d fantasized about for half a decade.

  “I forgive you, Hope,” he muttered into her hair.

  “You do?” Hope squeezed him harder.

  “Yeah,” he said, realizing that forgiving her was the only way for them both to truly move forward. “I do.”

  Chapter 18

  “So are we going to tell him now?”

  Hope had that feeling like she was being suffocated, like there wasn’t enough oxygen in the car for the both of them. Being away with Chase had been amazing, like existing in a perfect bubble, but the reality of telling Harrison was like a shot of cold ice to her veins. They’d partied and playe
d, the latter over and over again, but arriving back in Dallas was a dose of reality, pure and simple. Life suddenly seemed complicated all over again. The bubble was bursting.

  “Um, yes,” she managed. “I mean, if it seems like the right thing to do at the time.”

  She saw Chase’s frown, his mouth fast hovering from a smile into a downward turn. “So you do want to tell him or you don’t?” he asked.

  “I do, Chase, but I just want it to be right.” She sighed. “I know that I said I wanted to tell him, but after all this time it’s…” Hope couldn’t think of the right word.

  “Scary,” Chase finished for her. “I get that. But you need to see it from my perspective, Hope.”

  She fidgeted in her seat, wishing she wasn’t screwing up the end to what had been an amazing weekend. “I deserve to have you to hate me, Chase. I know that, and I know how amazing you’ve been.”

  “So what’s the problem?” he asked. “Because for the record, after the weekend we’ve just had? Hate is the last word I’m thinking. I thought I’d made it well and truly clear to you that I forgive you.”

  “Oh really?” Trust him to turn the situation around and make her smile.

  “I mean, you could always make it up to me by doing something dirty while I drive the rest of the…”

  “Chase!” She slammed a punch into his arm, pleased when he howled in pain.

  “Hey, it was just a suggestion.”

  “On a more serious note,” she started.

  “Oh man.” Chase groaned. “What the hell have I done now?”

  “Nothing,” she reassured him, closing her hand over his thigh and resting it there, trying to remind herself that this wasn’t some sort of weird flashback, that she was actually in a car with Chase after a dirty weekend away. “I just wanted to say thank you. Being together again, just the two of us, it was nice.”

  “Darlin’, it was way better than nice.” His hand slid over hers.

  She knew Chase would never understand, that he couldn’t possibly get how she felt, but she needed to try to tell him. The last couple of days had been incredible, like there was nothing else in the world to worry about except what to drink and eat after glorious hours between the sheets, and after the year she’d had, it was nice to feel that way.

 

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