I was half-expecting Chase to knock Harrison out cold, but he only continued to glare at him. He laughed, and the sound practically chilled me to the bone. Chase straightened up and brushed off his shirt. His hands flexed, then fisted again. His expression was dark, and his nostrils flared.
“Chase . . .”
He turned and looked at me. His eyes were hard and inscrutable, but there was a shimmer of suffering that blurred my vision and made me clutch my throat to keep the tears from coming. “Looks like you made your choice, Goldilocks,” he said coldly.
Before I could say anything, Chase turned swiftly. I felt a scream rising within me, because, from the looks of it, he was lunging for Harrison. Instead, he smashed his fist straight into the wall next to Harrison’s head. The brick wall next to Harrison’s head.
I could feel a wave of nausea snaking up through me as Chase took his hand away. It was bleeding. Harrison also looked just as shocked as I was. At this point, patrons were getting up out of their chairs to see what the commotion was about, and a waiter ran over to us.
“Sir, you’re going to have to leave right now, before the cops get here,” he addressed Chase sternly.
“Already ahead of you,” Chase said stoically. He gave me one last, hard look, then breezed past the waiter and out the doors, disappearing into the night.
Harrison sat down next to me, and the air between us felt heavy and oppressive.
“What was that about?” I could tell he was attempting to be cool and restrained, but I could hear the flurry of questions behind his single one.
I sighed. “I . . . it’s a long story.”
Harrison was silent for a moment. “All those things he said about you.” He shut his eyes tight, as if he were attempting to shut out Chase’s words. “Were they true?”
I shook my head. “No. I . . . there was a misunderstanding between us, that’s all. But I swear, there’s nothing going on. He’s just . . . kind of excitable, I guess.” I felt like an asshole, lying to Harrison, but what else could I possibly have said? I wasn’t about to divulge the truth of my relationship with Chase—especially not the most salacious parts, which he’d openly bragged about. To do so would be not only pointless but cruel. Not to mention I didn’t even want to start thinking about what Chase’s words entailed—that they were true and that Harrison would never be able to please me.
Harrison’s eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t want you to see that guy ever again,” he pronounced coldly. “I guess I saw the warning signs: the blog, the things Elsie was saying . . .”
“I didn’t know about the blog until the story was posted,” I insisted. “It was never my intention for things to go this way.”
“I know, I know,” he replied. “I trust you, Annie, but this is a crazy world and there are crazy people in it, like him. If he ever approaches you again . . .” His voice trailed off, and he shook his head.
“I don’t think that’s going to happen, Harrison, not after tonight,” I assured him, grabbing his hand for emphasis.
“If I lost you, Annie . . .”
I pulled him close to me. “You’re not going to.”
He smiled, but his expression was pallid and worn. “Jesus, I’ve lost my appetite.”
I paused and took a deep breath. “Me too. What if we just went back to your place?”
He drew back slightly, somewhat startled. “Are you . . . sure about that?”
I nodded. “I just want to forget about this little episode. I just . . . want to feel your arms around me.” I wasn’t exactly lying about it. I wanted the comfort of a warm body next to mine. I just wasn’t sure if it was Harrison’s I wanted. But I was afraid that if I didn’t go home with him, I would just find myself wondering about Chase. I didn’t trust my capacity to make good decisions right now, but maybe being with Harrison would take my mind off all the bullshit I’d lived through in the last month: the highs, the lows, the ecstasy, the pain, all of it.
Harrison nodded and brushed my lips with his. “I would never hurt you, Annie,” he whispered, his voice trembling slightly.
I smiled at him. “You don’t have to say it twice. I already know.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
As it turned out, I didn’t go home with Harrison that night. It just didn’t feel right to me, so I feigned a headache and ended up heading back to the dorm. Even though Chase and I were over, there was a hollow in my heart that I knew hopping into bed with Harrison would probably only exacerbate.
“Annie, I’m not in a rush. It’s a long game, you know?” he’d said, kissing me on the forehead and rubbing my hands between his own.
“So now you’re using sports analogies to describe our relationship?” I’d joked. “In that case, you probably think of this as a foul more than a slam dunk.”
He’d laughed at that. “Sometimes I think everything in life is just a game, but the scoreboard is never static. Seriously, I’m not going anywhere, and that’s one thing you can count on.”
I appreciated his steadfastness, although why he liked me so much was a little mind-boggling. I was still in a state of confusion over what the best way to deal with Harrison might be. Using him as a crutch made me feel pretty low, but I was sure that if I gave it time and space, my feelings for Chase would eventually dissipate. They just had to.
The next few days, I was wrapped in a haze of schoolwork and gloomy weather. Finally, Thanksgiving was here, and the crispness in the air gave way to an icy chill. We were only two weeks away from the Quentin Pierce opening, and I hadn’t gotten any sign from Chase that he had kept to his agreement and would still be making something for the show. When I’d last visited him at his warehouse, he’d told me that I didn’t have to worry about the mural getting finished, but I wondered if his integrity had given way to resentment and bruised feelings, especially after our unpleasant confrontation at Bell Book & Candle.
I sent Chase a flurry of civil yet businesslike texts, but all I got was radio silence. I was beginning to panic. If I stopped to consider it, I knew he had no real incentive to continue. His reasons for doing the show were mysterious and muddled to begin with, and now that we were no longer together, I couldn’t imagine why he’d feel any sort of obligation to me.
As I lay on my bed with my medieval art–history textbook, I ran my fingers over my hip and looked down at my tattoo with sadness and consternation. Kendra was right—it had been impulsive and stupid of me to go through with it, but at the time, a white-hot passion that had felt frighteningly clear had eclipsed everything else. The idea of being Chase’s—forever—was less wishful thinking than an observation of the naked truth. Even now, with all that had happened, the tattoo felt like a final psychic link between him and me.
I closed my eyes and imagined the dark, somber look in his eyes when I’d told him, in no uncertain terms, that I was with Harrison. It made my heart break to think I had hurt Chase, but what other choice did I have? I’d jumped into an undesirable situation headfirst, not because I didn’t know any better but because being around Chase altered my senses to the extent that I wasn’t sure if up was down and night was day. Every last instinct of mine wanted to reach for Chase and never let him go, but I’d gotten my rude awakening: Chase was unstable, dangerous, and definitely not boyfriend material. Not the way Harrison was.
Even though I knew I had to stay away from Chase, I didn’t have much of a choice but to find him, to determine once and for all what was going on with his piece for the art opening. The days were getting shorter, so it was already dark when I took the 5 to the South Bronx, to a permission wall where I knew Chase and his crew hung out on the regular. These days, Chase didn’t seem to be frequenting the Meatpacking District, and the permission wall was typically inactive during the colder season anyway. Besides, there was a part of me that enjoyed going back to the grittiness and authenticity of the graffiti art that festooned every surface of the South Bronx. There was a rawness and beauty to all of it that I’d been aching for, ever since Chase and
I had broken up.
Reynaldo, Pike, and a few other of Chase’s friends, whose names I’d forgotten, were gathered around a crumbling concrete wall, throwing up a medley of colorful tags. Some of them were also covering the fire hydrants and sidewalks. Their letterforms and typography weren’t as effortless or clean as Chase’s, but their enthusiasm felt almost as infectious.
“Hey, guys,” I said somewhat tentatively as I approached. Most of them were so fixated on what they were doing that they simply ignored me, but Pike and Reynaldo turned around. Their expressions were inscrutable; I might as well have been an irksome bystander, rather than someone who’d been on an urban spelunking expedition with them in the murkiest subway tunnels just a few weeks ago.
Pike nodded in acknowledgment. Reynaldo frowned and ran his hand over his bald head.
“Um, I’m looking for Chase. Have you seen him around?”
Pike tipped his head slightly and looked at Reynaldo. “He’s been working, yo. And I’m not exactly sure he’d be thrilled to see you.”
My heart sank at the coldness of his words, but I persisted. “Do you know where he’s been working? I’ve been trying to get in touch with him, and . . . and I really need to see him, to talk to him.”
“What about?” Reynaldo said, clearly uninterested as he embellished his tag with dark-blue spray.
“Well,” I started, not wanting to reveal too much, “it’s about a project we’re working on together. We have a deadline coming up, and I need to . . . to consult with him.”
“Consult?” Reynaldo seemed to think that word was hilarious, and proceeded to erupt into a fit of laughter.
Pike rolled his eyes. “Chase is good, but he ain’t no professional. We don’t consult and shit—we just do.”
I could feel my jaw tightening. “Do you have any idea where he might be?”
The two looked at each other. Reynaldo smirked at me. “The last I saw him, he was with some chick at the Silver Edge. Lil’ mama was sexy as hell! And the way they were vibing, I could see why he didn’t stick around for too long.”
I frowned. I couldn’t tell if they were lying to me or not.
Pike queried, “What do you care, anyway? You’re still with that frat-boy douche, right? At least, that’s what Chase says.”
I tried to be patient. “Look, I really need to know where Chase is. You may not want to help me, but it’s really important.”
“Chase hasn’t been hanging out here the last few days. No bombing, no piecing, no nothing,” Pike said. “He won’t say what’s up, but I have a pretty good idea.”
Reynaldo piped up, “Yeah, so why don’t you just head back to the classroom or something? Chase doesn’t need some preppy bitch fucking with his head and messing up his game.”
“Messing up his game?” I asked.
“I’m getting sick of this conversation. Besides, you might wanna vamoose before the cops get here,” said Reynaldo, waving his fingers in a mocking simulation of something fearful heading this way.
“Great, thanks a lot, guys. Thanks for nothing,” I mumbled as I walked away. I was clearly not going to get anywhere talking to Pike and Reynaldo, but I knew on some level I shouldn’t be offended; after all, they were just protecting their friend.
So I went to the only other place I suspected Chase might be: his warehouse. I had been hoping I could find him on safer turf, somewhere out on the street. I was afraid that if I found myself in his home, I’d be too weak to resist my yearning for him, which seemed to have increased its fever pitch over the last several days, no matter how much I fought to deny it.
It’s just business, Annie. You don’t even have to go inside, I assured myself.
The warehouse wasn’t too far away, but I still felt nervous as I pulled up the collar of my jacket and kept my head down, walking briskly down the street, attempting to ignore the catcalls of homeless people and the cold curiosity of prostitutes. When I got to Chase’s, I ran up the several flights of metal steps and pounded on his door. My heart was racing. Part of me wanted him to be there, and the other part of me feared what would happen if he actually was.
I didn’t have to wait too long. Chase answered the door. The sight of him made me feel slightly dizzy and warm. He was shirtless, wearing only simple drawstring pajama pants. His skin had a slight sheen, as if he’d just gotten out of the shower. His beautiful face was blank for a moment, and then a mixture of emotions flashed: bewilderment, anger, longing.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” he said.
Before I could respond, I heard a familiar voice in the background. A female voice. “Who is that, Chase? Can we maybe get some delivery? Chinese or Indian?” The faceless woman laughed. “After that little workout you gave me, I’m starved.”
Chase and I exchanged glances, and a world of information was conveyed in that split second.
“Annie, I . . .”
It felt like I was hearing him through a giant tunnel of white noise. I could barely concentrate on what was happening. I glanced past his shoulder, and there she was. Elsie was standing behind him, her black hair plastered wetly to her shoulders. She was wearing nothing except a giant towel wrapped around her body. At that moment, she also noticed me, but her astonishment quickly gave way to a thin, self-satisfied smile.
“Oh, hi, Annie!” Her peppiness almost sounded genuine. I wanted to murder her.
I stared at Chase blankly. I must have looked like I was in a state of paralysis, because the expression of concern on his face was paramount.
“How . . . could you . . . ?” I breathed, feeling my pulse beating up a storm.
“Annie, c’mon. Let’s talk about this,” he said, reaching out to touch my shoulder.
I wrenched away from his grasp and ran back down the stairs into the night air, which felt like a welcome reprieve from the claustrophobia and heat I’d felt in the span of moments. But he was right on my heels.
“Annie, stop!”
I whirled around, practically spitting out my words. “You’re fucking sick, you know that? Elsie Donegan? Really?”
“Calm the fuck down, Annie! You’re not exactly in a position to school me about decency here.”
I shook my head, so infuriated I could barely speak. “Where did you even meet her? Was it at the Silver Edge? That’s what your friends told me.”
He ran his fingers through his hair. I noticed, for the first time, that his eyes were bloodshot. “Look, she’s the one who approached me.”
I laughed mordantly. “Of course. Of course Chase Adams can’t keep it in his pants when someone flatters his ego!”
He swallowed hard, and I could tell it was taking all his strength not to scream back at me.
At that moment, Elsie came outside. She was dressed and carrying a giant Prada tote. She came up behind Chase and smiled innocently at us. “What’s going on, guys?” she said, as if we were three friends just casually hanging out.
I wanted to slug her in her face. Chase seemed to read it in my eyes. “What’s going on is that you were just leaving,” he said coldly.
Elsie gave him a playful pout. She was obviously pretending not to notice the shitstorm she’d just generated. “Too bad—we could’ve had more fun—but I need to skedaddle anyway.” She laughed and looked over at me to see how I was reacting. “I can’t believe I only woke up thirty minutes ago. This might’ve been the first time I’ve spent the entire day sleeping. I’d prefer to be doing other things, but I had a blast last night all the same. Call me later, ’kay?” She gave him a peck on the cheek and sashayed cheerfully off to her car.
I was trembling, not so much because of the cold but because I still couldn’t process any of this. “I can’t believe you. This can’t be happening!” I finally said, but I didn’t recognize my own voice.
Chase attempted to reach out for me, but I slapped his hand away. “Annie . . .”
“Shut up, just shut up! This is the lowest thing you could possibly have done to get back at me.”
“Look, I didn’t even know you knew each other, okay? Like I said, she was the one who started talking to me . . . I’d had a few drinks—”
“So that gave you carte blanche to fuck Elsie?”
“I didn’t fuck Elsie! She ended up crashing here, but nothing happened between us, I swear. I was way too wasted to do anything.”
I shook my head, not knowing whether I could believe him or not. “How did you even meet her?”
“She came by Tuff City Tattoos, and I was there. She said she’d been looking for me, something about wanting to learn more about graffiti ’cause she’s some kind of artist.”
I laughed, and the sound of it was terrible to my ears. “Some kind of artist is right! She’s mastered the art of being a conniving piece of garbage!”
Chase’s eyes were pained. “I’m sorry, Annie. I didn’t mean to—”
“It doesn’t matter,” I snapped. “I didn’t come here to break up your little . . . whatever the hell you want to call it with Elsie. I came here to talk about the mural, the one you promised you’d deliver on for Quentin Pierce.”
He shook his head. “Fuck the mural, Annie. We need to talk.”
I crossed my arms. “Talk?” I sputtered. “It seems to me you’re way better at fucking than talking.”
He started to say something but then just tightened his jaw and looked at me, poker-faced and hard.
“Let’s not pretend there’s anything left between us, Chase,” I said. “All I want is to see the mural. We have a binding contract, and I expect you to honor it.”
He rubbed his chin and glared at me. “For real, Annie? It’s all about the bottom line with you, isn’t it? I guess I never saw you that way before.”
“I guess you don’t really know me, then,” I snapped. “You are well aware of what you signed up for. Now, can we just get this over with?”
The stony look in his eyes gave way to fire and forcefulness. I gasped and stepped back, almost afraid of what he was going to do.
So Damn Beautiful (A New Adult Romance) Page 24
