My Forever (Our Forever Book 3)

by Elena Matthews

  “I won’t hurt her,” I tell him, but I have zero faith in my words. How I’m feeling for her is beyond friendship, and I know that it’s only a matter of time until I do hurt her. I should back off, especially since she told him she’d wait for me, but I’m honestly in too deep with her. I couldn’t back off even if I wanted to. She’s become what heroin became to Olivia—an addiction, one that I’m not willing to give up anytime soon.

  “But, if I do hurt her, I give you permission to kick my ass.”

  He grins wickedly. “I’ll hold you to that.” He pulls something out of his pocket, and when I look down, I see it’s a rolled-up joint. “So, Kaelyn mentioned you’re inclined to smoke a bit of weed now and again.”

  I bark out a laugh. “Did she now?” I got high with her once, and I’ve suddenly become everyone’s smoking buddy.

  “Well, she had to because it was my stash she smoked.” He grins. “Anyway, shall we at least try to salvage what’s left of this crappy day with a little high?” He holds the unlit joint between us.

  I know I probably shouldn’t, but I’m off work for a few more days, so a little weed won’t hurt anyone.

  “Ah, what the hell? It’s not as if I’m fit to drive anyway,” I tell him, holding my whiskey up as evidence.

  “Now, that’s what I’m talking about,” he praises.

  He lights it up, and as he takes the first drag, something funny occurs to me.

  “How do you get away with smoking weed when your brother is a cop?”

  He blows smoke out in front of him and cocks a brow. “Because, regardless that he’s a cop, he’s younger than me, and there’s no way he’s going to arrest his older and much more handsome brother when he knows I can kick his ass.” He hands me the joint, and I accept it, laughing. “And no cop wants to get an ass-kicking from his brother.”

  And, for the next twenty or so minutes, we bond over a lit joint. He tells me how he became an astrophysicist, and I tell him all about my life as an NHL player. For a moment, life feels good again. Also, now that he’s no longer being an asshole, I’m actually starting to warm up to him.

  High and a hell of a lot calmer than I was earlier, we return to the house. I see Lyn sitting at the table with the rest of the clan, cradling a mug of something steaming in front of her.

  “How’s Kaelyn doing?” I ask.

  “She stopped crying, but she’s not herself. She’s holed herself up in her room. She told me she didn’t want any company apart from you. You should head on up there,” she tells me.

  I nod. “Yes, I will. You mind if I grab her a drink?”

  “Help yourself, honey.”

  Rinsing out my glass, I go to pour her a glass of whiskey when I think twice about it. “Um, do you have any tequila?”

  This time, it’s Kaelyn’s dad who speaks, “Yep. There’s a couple of bottles downstairs in the man cave.”

  “Thanks,” I tell him and head down to the basement.

  When I reach the bar, I pour a large shot of tequila before heading back upstairs. Once I reach the door that reads Kaelyn’s room in a childlike font, I rap my knuckles against her door.

  “Hey, Kaelyn. It’s Chase. Can I come in?”

  “Yeah,” she croaks.

  I gently open the door. I see her straightaway, sitting by her window, her knees pressed up to her chest, hugging herself as tightly as possible. She’s wearing a pair of lounge pants and a Cowboys sweatshirt that’s three times her size. I breathe a sigh of relief to see that her tears have stopped, but it kills me inside to see sadness still lingering in her swollen eyes.

  “Hi,” I greet.

  She’s barely able to throw me a smile. I shut the door behind me and close the space between us.

  “I brought you a drink. Thought you might need something strong.”

  Her eyes throw me a grateful glance before she accepts it. “Thanks.” She looks down at the clear liquid. “Is this tequila?” she asks.

  “Of course. What else would I bring?” I say with a grin.

  Her eyes pull up a little in amusement. She lifts the glass to her mouth and takes a sip. Then, her eyes return to mine, an eyebrow raised. “Huh, is this my dad’s Patrón Silver?”

  “Yes, I think so.”

  My answer impresses her. “Wow. That’s his good stuff. He never lets any of us drink it. And it looks like you brought me half the bottle in this glass.”

  I smile, happy to see she’s found her humor again.

  “I don’t think your dad will mind.”

  She pats the space in front of her, and I take a seat, leaning an arm against her bent knees.

  “How are you feeling?” I ask.

  She mulls over the question while sipping on her tequila.

  Shit, I honestly don’t know how she drinks the stuff, and she’s swallowing it down like water.

  “Like shit. I’m feeling heartbroken. Angry. Devastated. Shocked. I hate that you had to see me break down like that. I’m so embarrassed.”

  “Hey, you have nothing to be embarrassed about. Nothing.”

  “Still, an ugly, crying girl is the last thing you need,” she states, taking another small sip of her drink.

  “You’re anything but ugly, Kaelyn.”

  She smiles a little at that before speaking again, “I know most of the things that were destroyed in the fire are replaceable, and I’m grateful that I wasn’t there when it happened, but it’s my home. My sanctuary. Seeing the damage firsthand was soul-wrecking.”

  I’m reminded of the way she reacted earlier. The destroyed box she lost her mind over.

  “What was in that box?” is all I say.

  She sucks back a breath, her eyes watering with sorrow. She glances down at her drink as she speaks, “It was everything from my first eighteen years of ballet. Everything I wanted to forget but never could. I mean, I know it’s not the end of the world, but seeing my favorite ballet shoes burned to practically nothing was too much. I couldn’t cope. It’s like the remnants of that life are just gone. The box was the only thing I had left.”

  My thumb begins to absentmindedly stroke her knee. I know I shouldn’t touch her, but with her grief seeping into my bones and having her within touching distance, I can’t resist.

  “I’m sorry about the box, but I can tell you now, that box wasn’t the only thing you had left. You still have the talent and the ability to dance, and no one can ever take that away from you.”

  She scoffs before taking another sip of her drink. “I don’t know about that.”

  “Whether or not you believe that, you don’t need a box of sentimental things from the past to mean something.”

  She nods, but the very movement is subdued. I hate seeing her this unhappy.

  She gazes back down to her drink. “I don’t even know why I’m getting sad over a box of ballet crap and blood-filled ballet shoes. It’s not even my life anymore. It hasn’t been for a long time. Maybe the fire did me a favor. All that box ever did was remind me of the dream that had been snatched away from me. Now, I’ll no longer be reminded of what a fucking failure I am.”

  Her dull-sounding words cut me like a knife, and it takes everything within me not to put her over my knee and spank her for talking shit about herself. Instead, I pull her legs over my thighs and tightly grip her legs within my grasp. The sudden movement causes Kaelyn’s eyes to flash to mine.

  “You are not a failure. Just because your original dreams didn’t come true doesn’t mean you’re a failure, and it pisses me off to hear you say that. You made new dreams and succeeded with them. Life isn’t about living the one dream; it’s about living as many dreams as possible, and if one doesn’t come true, you chase the next. Something you have done and will continue to do.”

  Her lips draw into a firm line, her eyes filling with more tears. Then, she wipes them away in defeat. “You’re right. I’m just overwhelmed and feeling sorry for myself. Today is just the worst.”

  She tilts her head back and lets out a frustrated gr
owl. Then, to add to her anger, she forces the window open and all but launches her glass of tequila out of it. I watch with a mixture of shock and amusement as the glass descends in the air until it smashes to pieces on what I hope is asphalt on the drive and not a car. She looks at me, wide-eyed, her chest rising and falling at the exertion of her meltdown. It takes me a few seconds to form a sentence because… wow.

  “Well, that was a waste of tequila. Did that make you feel better?” I ask, my question laced with humor.

  She gives me a sheepish look, her cheeks rising with color again. “No,” she replies like a sullen five-year-old, but her lips begin to purse into a smile, and she gives out a bubble of laughter. “I don’t even know why I did that. Now, I’m angry because I threw my drink out the window.”

  This time, I laugh.

  “Bitches be crazy,” is all I can say, and she clutches her arms around her stomach and laughs hysterically.

  When her laughter dies down, she tilts her head to the side, putting me under her scrutiny. Then, she accusingly points at me. “Oh my God, you’re high!”

  Busted.

  I give her a side-glance with a look that says, I don’t know what you’re talking about.

  She scrambles to her knees. She grabs either side of my head, pulls my face barely an inch from hers, and stares into my eyes. “Oh my God, you are totally high.”

  I can’t keep the grin off my face. “I might have had a teeny, weeny bit of weed,” I say barely above a whisper, using my thumb and forefinger to indicate how little.

  She rears back as if I’d just slapped her. “What the hell, Chase? I thought that was our thing.”

  She’s going back to sulking, and all it does is make me laugh. I brace my hands against her waist, and even though I’m a little high, the feel of her beneath my fingers is fucking heaven. That’s when I realize she moved into a straddling position over my thighs, and for the second time today, her pussy is sitting directly over my cock. I have to blink back that distraction and focus on Kaelyn.

  God, she’s beautiful.

  “I’m sorry. I was happy with my whiskey, but Jace joined me outside. He apologized for being a dick earlier, and we ended up smoking a joint together. In my defense though, I only had, like, three drags. So, I’m not even that high. In fact, I’m more drunk off the whiskey than anything. I’ve lost count of how many I’ve thrown back tonight.”

  “Still, you could have waited for me.”

  She pouts her lips, and it takes the restraint of a goddamn saint not to wipe the pout away with my own lips. Being high, drunk, and having a sexy-as-hell Kaelyn sitting on my lap is not a good combination.

  “I could see if he has another joint,” I offer.

  But she just shakes her head. “No, the last thing I need to be tonight is high, but I wouldn’t mind another glass of tequila,” she says with a bat of her eyelashes.

  “If I get you another glass, will you promise me you won’t throw it out the window?”

  “I promise.” She grins.

  She slides off me, and I head downstairs to grab her another drink. When I return—and not before having to explain to everyone downstairs what the hell Kaelyn threw out her bedroom window in a fit of rage—Kaelyn is lying in the middle of her twin bed, looking up at the ceiling, deep in thought.

  Setting the drink down on the side table, I sit on the edge of the bed. “What are you thinking about?”

  She lets out a long sigh. “Just that I’m technically homeless,” she says, sitting up and reaching over for her drink.

  “You’re not homeless,” I argue.

  Kaelyn grabs her drink and sits back against the headboard.

  “Well, I’m not homeless per se, but I don’t have a home right now. Well, I have half of a home…if you can even call it that. God, everything is such a fucking disaster.” She throws back half of her drink. “My mom said I can stay here for as long as I need, and I love my mom for it, but, ugh, the thought of living back with my parents is too much to bear.”

  “What about your brothers?” I suggest.

  The stare she gives me is one that says, Are you fucking kidding me?

  Then, she gives me a sharp laugh. “Yeah, I don’t think so. I love them, but being forced to be around their whoring ways and smelly asses sounds like the worst thing in the world. Worse than having half of your house burned down. It was bad enough, growing up with them. I can never live with them again even if it’s temporary. I’d prefer to live in a cardboard box.”

  My next suggestion comes out without me giving it a second thought. “What if you stayed with me?”

  Her eyes grow with surprise at my offer. She’s silent for a moment, cautiously watching me. Then, she says, “Stay with you?”

  I know immediately when she says this that the prospect of her staying with me is a bad idea, but now that it’s out there, I can’t take it back. Most importantly, I don’t want to take it back. I’m at the point that I’ll take whatever I can with her, and if that means she stays with me for a while, then I’m going to grab it with both hands.

  Possibly a stupid move?

  Yes.

  Do I give a shit?

  No.

  “Yeah, why not? I have a big house that only I live in, more room than I know what to do with. Plus, I’m hardly there as it is, so you’ll get the quiet I guarantee you won’t get here.”

  She seems unsure. “I…I don’t know. What about with everything that’s happening? You have enough to deal with. I don’t want to be an added stress.”

  I shake my head. “You won’t be, and having you around right now might stop me from doing something stupid.”

  Worry creases around her eyes. “What do you mean, something stupid? You’re not feeling suicidal, are you?”

  I shift a little closer, fighting my smile. “No. I mean, something stupid like throw a perfectly good shot of tequila out the window.”

  I burst out laughing when she kicks at my chest with her foot.

  “Oh my God, you’re such an asshole!”

  I grab her foot with my hand, still laughing. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t resist, but rest assured, I’m not suicidal. I mean, my life is a bag of shit, but I’m not ready to leave it all behind.”

  She places the glass to her lips and sips slowly while she intently watches me. A second later, she finally speaks, “That’s good to know.”

  Instinctively, I begin to caress her foot with my fingers, and her eyes fall to my hand before returning to my face. I think for a moment that she might tell me to remove my fingers, but all she does is continue to keep sipping her drink. Tonight, the lines of our friendship continue to keep blurring, and I know all of the reasons pursuing anything with her right now is out of the question, but whenever I’m within her presence, I keep forgetting all the reasons I shouldn’t be touching her.

  She’s all I can focus on. She’s all I dream about. My life has always had its complications—my childhood, the teenage years, my career, and now, everything with Olivia. Nothing has ever come easy to me, and for once in my life, I’ve found someone who is easy and straightforward. She’s fucking everything.

  There’s never a hidden agenda with Kaelyn, never a purpose or a gain with her. The first time I met her, she didn’t care that I was a hockey player or that I had millions in the bank. She wanted to speak to me because she wanted to know me. Chase Henderson the person, not the hockey star. Our conversation was effortless. She made me laugh. I made her laugh. Then, the second time we hung out, she bought me a beer. That gesture in itself told me Kaelyn was unlike any woman I had ever met.

  She’s the only uncomplicated thing in my life. Kaelyn has never wanted anything from me other than just me, and I wish that I could give her all of me, but unfortunately, I can’t. So, I’m stuck in this purgatory hell, a place where I want her but can’t have her. At least, not yet. I just hope, whenever I do get my shot, that it’s not too late.

  “I would love it if you stayed. I might actually like going
home if you were there. Plus, you’ve been such an amazing friend to me, the least I can do is offer you a place to stay for a while. I mean, it might get a little tricky in a month when I have a newborn to tend to, but when that time comes, I’m gonna need all the help I can get.” I pause, and doubt sinks into the pit of my stomach. Perhaps the reason she’s so hesitant is because she doesn’t want to be surrounded by my constant shit and drama. Of course that’s it. Who would want to witness the shitshow that is my life?

  “I’ll understand if you don’t want to stay,” I say quickly. “I’ve got more baggage than a luggage carousel. I’m guessing you don’t want that crap bringing you down.”

  She shakes her head, frowning. “What are you talking about? That’s not the reason I wouldn’t stay. I’m actually worried that I’ll be the stress you don’t need. I’d love to stay with you but only if you’re sure.”

  “I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t.”

  She knocks back the rest of her drink and smiles. “Okay, I’ll stay with you. Though, I won’t know how long it’ll take to fix up my place until I speak to the insurers tomorrow.”

  I grip her foot within my grasp and look her in the eye. “Don’t worry about it. You can stay as long as you need.”

  “Thank you,” she says before letting out a long yawn. Then, she blinks her watery eyes away. “God, I’m beat. It feels like it’s been the longest day.”

  “You should get some sleep,” I tell her, letting go of her foot. “I’m exhausted, too. Your mom said I could sleep in one of the spare rooms tonight, so I’ll leave you to get some rest.”

  I stand, but Kaelyn’s voice stills me.

  “Can you sleep with me?”

  Surprise has me turning around, but when I see her scared face and swollen eyes, I know the question isn’t remotely sexual.

  Then, she adds, “Please. I’m still a little shaken up from tonight. I don’t want to be alone.”

  I nod before slipping off my boots. “Of course.”

  She switches off the lamp on the side table and slides under the covers.

  “Do you want the door open?” I ask through the semi-darkness, the only light coming from the hallway.