I snorted. “Ow,” I breathed out. Okay, no laughing or snorting or any kind of body strain.
“You okay?” he asked me, looking me over. Then he grimaced when his eyes hovered over the area of my gunshot wound.
“I’m alive,” I replied softly.
“That doesn’t make me feel any better,” I heard him mumble.
“I’ll be fine.”
There were three quick raps on the door, and then the knob twisted. Wes turned turn his head around. “Hey,” he greeted them.
“Wes. SHERR,” Sierra said dramatically, a broad smile sweeping across her face. “Oh my God. Oh my God.”
Eva trailed behind her, carrying a basket.
Sierra walked over, put a hand over my head and messed my hair up affectionately. “You’re awake! So glad to see you.”
“Glad to see you guys too,” I grinned at them.
Eva held the basket up. “Goody bag,” she smiled at me.
I eyed the large basket. Other people got baskets of fruit. I got sweet treats. “I love you,” I sighed.
She threw her head back and laughed.
It was then that I learned in the next thirty minutes that Chase hadn’t left my side at all when I was unconscious, a fact he omitted. Or maybe he just didn’t particularly feel the need to tell me.
“That Facebook feed topic is still going.” Sierra broke into a laugh.
“Facebook feed?” It piqued my curiosity. I tried to sit up, then my body reminded me that it was a bad idea.
“Don’t move,” Siera chided. She turned the screen towards me and pushed it closer. I continued to read with a kind of horrified fascination as she scrolled down. So much information about what people did in their daily lives. “Who writes these?”
“You remember Rona?”
“Rona, the photographer?”
“The one and only.”
“She’s a blogger,” she told me like she’d just learned that a myth came true.
“Cool,” I said. Then frowning, “I hope she doesn’t post the wrong kind of things. Rumors can go rampant around here, given enough fuel.”
Her eyes raised to the ceiling as she gave it some thought. “She has a tendency to make things sounded more dramatic than they seem, but I don’t remember her really posting anything damaging. She likes posting the mundane things. Make them seem much more interesting. Not really anything bad if she did the damaging thing either, if well-deserved,” she added, a wicked glint in her eye. “She has a lot of subscribers.”
“Eva,” I said, shifting a little to look at her. “Please, don’t ever let those two end up in the same room.”
As if a particularly unpleasant memory came to her, she made a face. “They have, actually. Once. It was April Fool’s too.” A shudder went through her.
There was another knock, and then someone else entered. Then someone else entered. Luke. I thought a caught a flicker of something in Sierra’s eyes, before she said rather softly, “Did you get it?”
Wow. When did that happen? Were they finally talking now?
He nodded once. He passed her a rather large and thick envelope.
I gave Sierra a look, tilting my head towards Luke, and she mouthed a cryptic ‘he’s weird’. Then she passed the envelope to me, anticipation in her eyes.
I opened it, and to my surprise, a Panda card-board figure popped up, spinning, complete with music.
My eyes widened. Holy crap.
The panda continued to spin back and forth. It was adorable.
“You’re not supposed to make me laugh,” I gasped, and bit the inside of my cheek. “Thank you! I love it.”
Eva beamed at me. “I’m happy for you,” she told me, placing a hand gently on an arm. “He looks at you like you hung the moon,” Eva said. “And when you were out, he’d gone really quiet, like he would snap at the slightest thing. I think people were kinda scared to approach him.”
Wes nodded. “Yeah, everyone was on the edge, especially him. But I much prefer it now than how it was when you both weren’t talking.”
As if on cue, Chase came back with my food, a plastic bag in one hand, a small basket of fruits in the other.
“Matilda said she wanted to give this as a peace-offering,” he told me, lifting the basket of fruits up. Then he went over to me, bent down and kissed me, and I think everyone left to give us some privacy.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Let me stay
I got out two days later.
Everything hurt like hell. I don’t think I’ve ever cursed so much in my life as much as I did in those two days, and I didn’t consider myself to have a trucker mouth.
Every time I so much as moved an arm a certain way, it hurt. Every time I bent, it hurt. Every time I breathed deeply, it hurt.
In short, everything sucked, and my mouth had no problem expressing it. I guess something about being shot brought out the worst in me.
Chase, on the other hand, was amused. “You need a swear jar,” he told me as he helped me out the car.
I frowned, knowing all too well what I really needed.
“I need coffee. Good coffee. Abe coffee. I’m having withdrawals,” I moaned.
He chuckled. “Right. I’m gonna grab some later, when we get you settled. Can you hold out that long?”
Hmm. “How long is later?”
He shook his head, the corners of his mouth tugging up. He brought me to my door, which I was just realizing was not Chase’s.
My heart stopped.
Was this his way of finally telling me he was letting me go? As if sensing my panic, he rubbed a thumb soothingly over my palm. “Your friends have a little something for you.”
I pushed the door open.
“Surprise!” Haley cried out, along with a dozen other people. I gasped in surprise as I took it all in. She came over to me with a hug, careful not to press my injured side, and kissing my cheek.
Everyone was there, including, Abe, Celine and Patrick, as well as the Denvers.
There were balloons stuffed on the corners, but nothing excessive.
Food was spread over the table, from fried chicken and fries, to pizza, salads and what I guessed were some homemade dishes and casseroles. There was a separate section for sweet frosted cupcakes, and– were those peanut butter cookies?
The walls were fully painted (in the correct colors this time), and my floor had the tiles I’d been meaning to get. I had a new awesome chair in my room. It was one I’ve been eyeing for a while now online and it was a shade of the deepest red. A new, clean copy of my third paperback book was stacked on my table with a couple of my other binders.
“You guys,” I managed, my voice was shaky as I choked back tears. I slung an arm over Paula and Haley. “Thank you!”
“Don’t worry about it,” Haley replied, beaming. “You made a lot of us worried.”
“Cherry,” Sierra came over, putting an arm over my shoulder. “Welcome back to the real world. By the way, avoid that corner,” she said, nodding towards Celine and Matilda. Then she leaned over me and whispered, “They’re talking grand-babies.” I didn’t miss the sparkle in her eye as she said it.
“Oh. Thanks,” I said, trying to shake off what I just learned.
She walked away with a spring in her step, and I watched as she slapped a hand away as she announced she saw the cupcake as hers first, then nabbing it.
As I made my way to get a glass of water, something caught my eye from the glint of the sunlight. The frame Paula handed me only a little over a week ago sat at the small space between the fridge and the wall, right where I’d left it. I skimmed my fingers over it. It felt like it’d been much longer than that. I pulled it out, and ripped open the paper that wrapped it. As it slowly revealed the full frame, I drew in a surprised breath.
It was an oil painting of me and Chase, my head leaned over his shoulder at the bench, the greenery and the small filter of light the sun shot through were captured perfectly, and the effect was mesmerizing.
I knew she painted, she had a lot of artworks framed in her house, but I didn’t know she did this one of us.
I walked over, scanning my eyes for Paula, and found her in the backyard talking to Abe, admiring the plants.
“Paula,” I approached her. “This… It’s amazing. When?”
“Months before you left, before the proposal. I didn’t think much of it at the time. It was Haley’s idea,” she said, pride shining in her eyes. “It was meant to be a wedding present. Knew you both would work it out once you’d talked.”
Such was her belief in us that she’d always kept it.
“I… I didn’t think I’d have this. I never thought I’d have this after I left.” I felt wet tears sting my eyes, and this time, there was nothing I could do to stop it.
Lots of surprises today. All unexpected and amazing.
I heard the steps of someone coming over. “No crying,” I heard Wes say from behind me. Then he pulled me over to the table, nodding towards the direction of the cupcakes. “Just saying, might be gone if you don’t take at least one,” he whispered over my ear.
“Thanks for the warning,” I said, a laugh escaping me.
It was then that I heard the front door shut, and saw Chase carrying four cups of coffee in a cup holder.
I grabbed two cookies distractedly. Then he came over and gave me a quick kiss, but no less thrilling. It was heady. “My hero,” I whispered, smiling broadly.
The look he returned made my heart stutter.
He looked good, he brought me coffee, and he was all mine.
I always thought it would go away, but when I came back, what I felt for him only grew more intense. Stronger.
My heart sank a little when I thought of him leaving later, but it wasn’t like we lived that far away from each other anyway.
People wished me well, some even gave me presents. My heart was filled to the brim with gratefulness that they made the effort to come.
To my surprise, I got an apology from Matilda. It was a bit awkward at first because I had no idea what she was going to say. But when the next words out of her mouth was an apology, I was rendered speechless for a while. We weren’t going to become best friends, but we could finally get past what happened weeks ago.
* * *
Hours later, when everyone had left and I cleaned up the little that was remaining, I found Chase sitting on the couch, a movie paused.
His jacket hung on the chair, an arm slung over the couch, his eyes closed and his head tipped back. Briefly, I wondered if he fell asleep.
Then it struck me that he was still here– meaning, he hadn't left, even when everyone else had.
It only left me confused. I approached him quietly, a little unsure, and not really wanting to make any assumptions. “You’re… You’re not going back to your place?”
His eyes shot open as what I said seemed to penetrate. Guess that answered the sleeping question.
“Chase?” I prompted, when he still didn’t say anything. Then he got up, striding towards me as he muttered something inaudibly.
I took a couple of steps back, but he kept going. Then the back of my knee hit the adjacent couch, and I fell down, bouncing a little as I hit the soft cushion. “Ow.” The suddenness of the impact knocked my breath out a little.
Concern flashed in his eyes and he froze. I quickly added, "I'm fine, just surprised... I thought– I mean, last time, you told me you wouldn’t leave me alone, because someone was after me.”
“I thought that by now, you’d get it,” he said his voice low, but it held an edge of frustration. “How can you not know by now what I feel for you? Have I not made a damned thing clear?”
Oh crap.
“Uh– I guess that means that you’re stay–”
Both his arms caged me as he leaned over me, and he was so close, I felt like my heart was beating out of my chest.
“You think I’m only staying because someone’s after you?” he said indignantly.
He lowered his head, until his lips hovered over mine, until they met, and it felt like coming home. His tongue slid between my lips and tangled, warred with mine. He did it gently, as if seeking comfort, and giving it too, perfectly content to get lost in it than going anywhere further.
Too soon, he pulled back. “Whether it’s my place or yours, I don’t give a fuck. Let me stay with you, baby.” He looked at me like I was beautiful. “Not because someone’s after you, or you think I feel like I have to take care of you.”
Then he leaned in. “I. Just. Want. To,” he punctuated as he slid his nose along the back of my ear, a hand roaming along my side gently, like I was fragile. “The thought of losing you makes me go crazy.”
The full weight of his words sank in.
“You want to stay?” I whispered, not quite believing. Almost afraid to. “Even though no one’s after me?”
He released a deep breath. “Yes. Fuck. Sherr. Even though.”
“How are you real?” I sobbed. My fingers curled on his shirt.
Laughter rumbled in his chest, and his shoulders shook.
“You’re laughing at me again,” I mumbled.
He carefully removed my hand from the grip on his shirt, and he pressed his lips against it.
“Because for all your intelligence, your loyalty to your friends and your diligence, you don’t get it.”
“Why do I feel like you complimented me and insulted me both at the same time?”
“I’m not going anywhere,” he said plainly. “I don’t care how long it takes until it sinks in baby, and I don’t know how I can be any more clear, but it’s happening.”
I opened my mouth, and when nothing came out, I gave up. And under him, hearing them say those words, I gave in.
“Let’s get you to bed,” he said softly.
* * *
It occurred to me later, as I was tucked in bed, something I’d almost forgotten. I nearly fell asleep when the thought came to me, so before I forgot, I decided to ask him now.
“Chase,” I called out as he settled on the other side. “What did you want to show me?”
His eyes went to me, then followed his hand as he lightly traced a finger over my wrist. It was making me sleepy.
I wasn’t sure if he was trying to remember, or having an internal debate of whether or not to tell me.
“That night, before– before that happened. You said you wanted to show me something,” I explained.
As if he finally settled to some conclusion, he told me, “I’m gonna wait.”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Giving you time to settle,” he went on, as if I understood what he was saying.
“What do you mean?” I repeated.
“You should get some sleep, Sherr.”
“How am I supposed to sleep when you talk in riddles?” I replied stubbornly. A yawn escaped me nearly straight after.
Damn it.
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll show you when you’re feeling better.”
“I feel better already,” I mumbled, close to dozing off. And as a sleepy afterthought, added, “I’m with you.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
It’s a promise
The news of me getting shot spread like wildfire, and therefore so did news of our rekindled relationship.
Needless to say, a lot of people were surprised. A lot of people were also apparently psychics.
Considering the statement a whole bunch of flowers made from him just a few weeks before, people were intrigued. They asked questions, and they did so gleefully.
“Oh, I knew you both would work it out," a lady from Matilda’s salon said one time, when I visited. "A bunch of love-sick fools you were," she chuckled.
“I saw those flowers on Facebook too,” the woman next to her chipped in. “Were those real?” Her eyes were round as she looked at me expectantly, and so did the two other women next to her.
“They were real,” I answered.
They sighed collectively,
a look of awe in their eyes. One of them took a tissue from her bag and wiped the corner of her eyes.
"When's the wedding?" she blurted out all of a sudden.
Oh, hell. I should've expected it. A lot of people were asking me that question these days, I was nearly able to answer it without batting an eyelash. Nearly.
"There isn't one," I replied.
They didn't believe me, but I left it at that.
There was another post about how the sole reason I came back was to continue our love affair. I debunked that straight away, but I think it was still making rounds.
The whole incident with Gavin became somewhat sensationalized, to my dismay. I didn't want to be reminded of it, but I couldn’t control what people thought anymore, and after the fifth call in a day after it made it to the local paper, I finally snapped and disconnected the cable. All the while Chase was laughing, telling me to calm down. I'd calm down when people stopped trying to ask about things that clearly were difficult to talk about, or maybe when they learned to talk about their own damn lives.
I'd also heard that a lot of women's hearts broke when they found out that we got back together.
Things didn't work out the way I thought they would when I packed my bags and drove all the way here, expectations low, and emotions running high.
But honestly, I wouldn't have it any other way.
* * *
"You're not writing,” came Chase’s voice, rough from sleep but somewhat tinged with surprised as I lazed on the couch.
One month later– 'post-Gavin', as a lot of us would finally learn to call it– I finished writing the book and sent it to my editor. That time I tried not to obsess that I'd done something terribly wrong and the book sucked a whole lot, because it was out of my hands until I got feedback.
I fiddled with my tablet, trying to play a game I'd neglected for a while, and almost immediately got sucked in. I was shooting fire out of my mage's hands when Chase came in and expressed his surprise.
"Yep. Sent it for edits, I get time off until… Hey–" I protested when he came over pulling me backwards to him, until my back hit his chest.
Truce or Dare (Sweet Fortuity Book 1) Page 19
