Catching Chase

by Michelle Windsor

  We spend the next three hours talking. Just lying next to each other, sometimes our hands touching, sometimes stopping to press our lips against each other, but our questions about each other, our lives, our desires, seeming endless. So, when he asks the next question, it jars me for a minute as I realize I’m going to have to say goodbye to him.

  “What time does your plane leave tonight?” His voice is hushed, like he really doesn’t want to know the answer, but also needs to at the same time.

  “Ten-thirty.”

  “Would you consider staying a few more days?” His hand slides across the short distance between us to entwine his fingers with mine. “I can pay for a new flight, or the change fee, and for more nights here at the hotel.”

  My heart stutters in my chest, tripping over each syllable falling from his lips, leaving me momentarily speechless. Perhaps taking my silence as doubt, he starts rambling with reasons to stay. “I can be free after two so we can spend this afternoon together. My parents arrive tomorrow, so they’ll take up some of my time, unless you want to meet them of course. But if not, then you could just be with me. And I can get you a ticket to the game on Sunday as well. I’d love to have you see me play.”

  “Jasper.” I squeeze my fingers around his to get his attention, his mouth closing as his eyes dart to mine. “I’ll stay.”

  “You will?” He laughs, his cheeks lifting as he breaks into a wide smile. “Really?”

  “Really.”

  Before I can say anything more, he surges forward, crushing his mouth to mine, his lips still curved up. After a moment he pulls back, still smiling, his other hand shifting to cup my cheek. “Are you sure?”

  “Are you?” I chuckle, wanting to make sure he knows what he’s actually asking.

  “Yes.” He presses another kiss to my lips. “I want more time with you.”

  “What about practices though, and your family? And don’t you have press stuff tomorrow? I don’t want--” I’m about to say more but he silences me by covering my mouth with his. He lingers there long enough to momentarily quiet my concerns, my mind blank when he pulls away.

  “We only have one light practice tomorrow morning. My parents aren’t arriving until tomorrow afternoon. Press is this morning, and then I’m free.” He smooths a hand over my cheek. “I can make time for you. I want to.”

  I nod under his touch. “Okay.” I turn my head into his palm and press a kiss against it. “I don’t need you to pay for my flight and room though.”

  “But, I want to.” His hand moves to stroke through my hair. “It’s the least I can do.”

  I shake my head. “I’d rather you didn’t.” I offer him a small smile. “But it means more than you know that you’re offering.”

  “Well, you’re going to have to take the ticket for the game from me, cause it’s sold out, and it’s the only way you’re getting in.” He chuckles, apparently the satisfaction of this one win giving him a reason to celebrate.

  “Fine.” I state, trying to sound defeated. “I’ll have no idea what’s going on the entire game, but I promise you I’ll be screaming your name the loudest from the stands.”

  “Kinda like earlier?” His brows arch as his mouth quirks up in a coy smile, moving over me before I can react. His body is propped over mine, his strong arms flexed beside my head, his beautiful toffee colored eyes staring down into my blue ones as he waits for my answer.

  I grin, my hands coming to rest on his bushy beard so I can cradle his face. “Yes, kinda like that, but even louder.”

  “It gets louder?” He jokes, bending to drop a kiss to my lips, speaking against them as he does. “Wanna prove it?”

  I giggle, my lips vibrating against his before I murmur my reply. “Well, practice does make perfect.”

  “You’re so fucking right.” He ends any further discussion between us for the next twenty minutes, and I’m sure, even though they may not have been as loud as they would be in a stadium, my screams at least woke the person on the other side of the wall from us.

  Chapter Ten

  “You must really like this chick if you’re bailing on us again.” I snap my gaze to Doug. We just finished four hours of press rounds, and I’m back in the room so I can change out of my suit into more casual clothes.

  “How the hell am I bailing on you?” I counter, unable to reel in the anger lacing my tone. “You need me to hold your fucking hand while you jerk off?” I wrestle my jacket onto a hanger then slam it on the rack in the closet. “Seriously, man. What’s your problem?”

  “You should be spending more time with the team.” I stop what I’m doing to look at Doug. He’s leaning against the desk, his arms folded across his wide chest, his face red with anger. “Your head isn’t going to be in the game on Sunday and we need your fucking head in the game. You’re our most valuable receiver.”

  “My head will be in the game.” I unbuckle the belt at my waist and rip it out of the loops in one yank. “I’ve played in three fucking super bowls, and won two of them. I know what’s expected of me.” I stride over to the dresser and pull a drawer open to grab a pair of jeans. “If you want to worry about something, worry about your own damn self.” I slam the drawer then stride into the bathroom.

  “I’m just fine.” Doug yells from the other side of the door. “Thank you very much!”

  I change quickly into the jeans, then storm back into the bedroom. “So am I. So get off my damn ass.” I point a finger at him, my voice rising. “I’m at every practice, every event, on the field for every game, and bust my ass every single fucking time. This girl-” I clench my teeth, shaking my head before speaking again. “No girl is going to get in the way of how I play when I step on that field on Sunday.”

  “Why didn’t you just say that to begin with?” Doug shrugs, rolling his eyes as his mouth curves into a smile.

  “You’re a fucking asshole, man.” I pick the belt off the bed and snap it him, relief washing over me when I realize he’s over whatever this is.

  “You breaking curfew again tonight?” He drawls the question out, his implication obvious.

  Okay, maybe he’s not as over it as a I thought. I blow out a slow breath before I answer, glancing his way when I do. “If the choice is between sleeping in here with your ass or up against hers, which one do you think I’m going to choose?”

  “Got it.” Doug pushes off the desk, brushing past me as he heads in the direction of the door. “I’m outta here. Gonna go meet up with White to study routes.” He tosses me one last look over his shoulder on his way out. “You know where we’ll be if you want to join us.”

  Yeah, he’s definitely not okay. That was a not so subtle dig about me not focusing my attention where he thinks I should be. I don’t even bother answering. It’s not worth it. We both said what we needed to say. And my mind is made up. I’m grabbing Megan from her room later and can’t wait to share the surprise I’ve got planned for us.

  At precisely three, I knock on her door, my breath catching in my throat when she pulls the door open. She’s stunning, in the most natural way; light freckles scattered over her nose and cheeks, her hair plaited in a long braid over her shoulder. I step into her, sliding one hand around the nape of her neck to draw her mouth to mine. I inhale, her taste already becoming a comfort to me, then kiss her, every muscle in my body relaxing from her touch. I pull away after a moment, my lips unable to do anything but lift into a smile when I’m with her. “Hey.”

  “Hey.” She repeats softly. She steps back out of my hold, pulling the door wider. “Come in.”

  I walk further into the room, turning around to face her once I’m inside. “You look beautiful.”

  Her brow furrows as she looks down the length of her body then back at me. “I’m wearing jeans and a sweatshirt.”

  I cock my head. “It’s not about what you’re wearing.” How can she not know that about herself? That it’s about who she is, and how she looks at me. Before she can ask me to explain, I shift the conversation
. “Besides, it’s perfect for where I want to take you.”

  “But wait.” Her face breaks into an ear-splitting grin as she holds up her index finger. “I have a surprise for you.”

  I cock my head, curious. “Okay.”

  She grabs the hem of the sweatshirt and starts to lift it painstakingly slow . So far I’m liking this surprise. Is it wrong to hope she’s wearing nothing underneath? But after another second, I figure it out, my eyes rolling up to the ceiling when she finally pulls the garment off with an exaggerated flourish. “Ta-Da!”

  She’s wearing a fitted t-shirt emblazoned with the Patriots logo and my jersey number on it. “Something you just had in the closet?” I scrub my hand over my beard to try and keep my smile hidden. She looks fucking hot in it, I’ll give her that.

  “I went shopping after I left the hospital today.” She smiles proudly, twirling around to show me the back. I chuckle when I read my name across the back, Property of Chase. She spins around to face me, still grinning like a loon. “And I got an official game jersey with your number to wear on Sunday.”

  “I would have given you one of mine.” I say, hating that she spent money on something I could give her for free.

  “Now you tell me.” She laughs, her hand fisting on her hip as she juts it out. “You must be really popular because there were about ten different shirts with your name on them.”

  I nod then chuckle under my breath, still a little shocked that she truly has no idea, nor does she seem to care, that I’m a well-known player in the league. “Yeah, I guess so.”

  “I only have these to wear for shoes though.” She kicks one foot out in front of her, covered in a white chuck. “I know you said boots, but I only have these or heels.”

  “They’re fine.” I hold out the jacket I have in my hand. “You’re going to need this too.”

  She slides it from my grasp, her mouth curving down into a frown as she holds it up. It’s a fitted, black leather jacket, with a thin fleece lining. “You bought me a jacket?” She swings her gaze up to mine. “I have my sweatshirt I can wear.”

  “Borrowed.” I take the jacket from her fingers and open it, bobbing my head to indicate she should put it on. “From my sister.” She turns and slides her arms into the sleeves. “You look about the same size as her.” She spins around adjusting the leather on her shoulders. “And yep, it looks like I was right. It fits perfectly.”

  “It’s nice.” She shrugs as she nods. “But I could have worn the one I have with me.”

  “I wasn’t sure what you had, and wanted to make sure you had the right thing to wear.” I lean forward and peck a kiss on her cheek. “It looks way better on you than her anyway.”

  “Okay smooth talker.” She gives me an exaggerated eye roll. “What else do I need?”

  “Just sunglasses if you have them. If not, I can grab you some while we’re out.” I purse my lips in thought then shrug. “I think that’s it.”

  “Do you think I’d come to L.A. without a pair of sunglasses?” She grins widely, then turns to the desk to rifle through her computer bag, finally pulling a glass case free. After waving it in the air in triumph, she opens the case, grabs the glasses, then slides them over her nose.

  I let out a huff of laughter, then pull a pair out of my jacket pocket and slide them on. “We’re too fucking cool for school.”

  She joins my laughter, then comments. “I’m also wholly prepared for any surprise paparazzi that jumps out at us now too.”

  “There is that.” I drag a hand over my beard as I recall the night before. “I’m pretty sure we’ll be okay where I’m taking you.”

  “If you say so.” She snags her room key off the desk and slides it into the front pocket of her jeans, then takes her phone and zips into one of the pockets on the coat. “Let’s go then.”

  We leave the room and grab an elevator. I push the button for one of the garage levels instead of the lobby, her head tilting when she notices, but she stays silent instead of questioning it. When the doors slide open, I lead her around the corner from the elevator, stopping when I notice her feet have frozen in place.

  “Nope.” Her head is swinging back and forth as her arms cross over her chest. “Not happening.”

  “Seriously?” I walk over to her, snaking one of her hands out of her hold to drag her closer to the object of her obvious disapproval. “Come on. I promise I’m an excellent driver.”

  “Do you know how many people die in motorcycle accidents a year? I am not getting on that death trap.” She shakes her head firmly, arms crossing again. “How do you even have a motorcycle here anyway?”

  “My dad dropped it off earlier for me.” My head falls back against my shoulders, a frustrated breath blowing between my lips as I look up at the ceiling. After a second, I lower my gaze to find hers. “Have you ever even ridden on one?”

  She diverts her gaze, her foot beginning to tap nervously as she responds, her voice hesitant. “No.”

  Hope blooms as I realize fear is driving her to say no, and not the fact that she doesn’t actually enjoy riding on a motorcycle. She’s never even been on one before. “Listen, Megan, I promise I’ll take extremely good care of you, and will follow every speed limit and street sign. I think you’ll really like it if you give it a chance.”

  Her foot stops tapping and she turns to face me. “I’m scared.” Her eyes go wide as she continues. “What if I fall off the back, or lean too far when you go around a corner and I make the bike tip over? Or what if someone doesn’t see us and hits us? You have a really big game on Sunday.”

  I chuckle as I move closer to gather her in my arms. “First of all, you’re not going to fall off the back. You’re going to wrap your arms around me and not let go. You just push your body up to mine and if I lean, you lean with me.” She’s looking down at my chest, and not up at me, so I place a finger under her chin to lift her eyes to mine. “And baby, you could get hit walking across the street. You can’t not do shit out of fear. I’m a good driver. I make sure to pay extra attention to what other drivers are doing around me when I’m on a bike.” I release my hold on her, but grab her hand to drag her closer to the bike, letting go when we reach it. “And look, I even have a helmet for you.” I snag it off the handlebar and hold out it to her.

  She takes it from my extended hand, then bounces it up and down in her grasp like she’s testing its weight. Her lip is turning into mincemeat as she grinds it between her teeth as she seems to wage an internal battle over riding with me. She starts pacing back and forth, and when I can’t stand the indecision any longer, I step in front of her. She stops and I slide my hand around her neck to bring her forehead to mine. “I’ll take care of you.”

  “You promise?”

  I tilt forward to brush a kiss against her lips. “I promise.”

  A breath of resignation puffs against my mouth a second before she finally consents. “Okay.” She pushes her lips against mine in a quick kiss then steps back, swinging the helmet up and over her head. “Help me buckle this?”

  “Sure.” I take the straps from under her chin and work to fasten them.

  “Stop smiling like that.” She mutters.

  “Like what?” My cheeks are actually a little sore from how wide I’m grinning.

  “Like you just won the lottery.” She grumbles. “You’re going to be sorry if I fall off that damn bike.”

  “You better hold on tight then.” I peck her lips softly, then step back to put my own helmet on. “Besides, I think you’re the one that actually won the lottery.”

  Her head cocks. “How’s that?”

  I swing my leg over the bike then lower myself onto the seat. I use one foot to kick the stand up, then balance the bike between my legs as I motion to her. “Climb on.” I nod toward the back tire. “Put your foot on that peg and then just hop up onto the seat behind me.”

  She does as I instruct, her hands gripping onto my shoulders as she steps onto the peg to clamber over the seat, scooting her bod
y as close to mine as she can when she’s behind me.

  “See?” I pat her hands, already clutched in a death grip around my waist. “Winner.”

  “What?” She quips. “How?”

  “You get to squeeze me between your thighs for the next hour. On a vibrating seat.” I chuckle. “I think you’re the clear winner here.”

  She releases her hold on me to give me a playful slap on the arm. “Jasper!”

  “You’ll see.” I chuckle again. “You ready?”

  “I guess so.” She breathes against the back of my neck. “Please be careful.”

  “Always.” I press the button to start the bike, her arms clamping around my middle again, then I put it into gear and drive us out of the garage and into the California sunshine.

  Chapter Eleven

  He was right. The vibration of the seat under me. My legs wrapped tightly around his. My hands keeping me tethered to him. I love it all. But it’s also the things he didn’t tell me; I’m sure because they are things you can only experience for yourself. The feeling of freedom as we fly down the highway. The way the sun feels against your face. How giving complete control of my life to someone else makes me feel more alive than I ever have before. It’s euphoric. I want to throw my head back and scream from the top of my lungs because it feels so amazing. But I don’t. Instead, I squeeze him closer, silently thanking him for this experience, reveling in the pure joy it’s bringing me.

  As we cruise down the Pacific Coast Highway, I totally understand why he wanted to take his motorcycle. The view of the ocean as we drive North is nothing short of stunning. I have no idea what our destination is, but he did say we’d be riding around an hour, so assume we must be getting close. I’m not wrong, and less than ten minutes later, the bike slows as he downshifts, turning into a parking lot. It’s situated on a bluff overlooking the blue water, picnic tables scattered along a fence lining the small perimeter.

  The engine on the bike quiets as he switches it off, his booted foot kicking the stand down at the same time he pulls his helmet off. He shakes his head, his hair ruffling, and it’s then that I realize I’m still holding onto him. I loosen my grip around his waist and slide back a couple inches. I immediately miss the heat of his body, but stare down in amazement at the humming I feel between my legs. Okay, yeah. I’m definitely enjoying these unknown benefits of being a biker chick. He rises, then steps off the bike, his body twisting as he does so that he’s facing me when both feet are planted on the ground again.