Chapter Sixteen
Chase
“So…Can I come in?” Casey asks coyly.
She cocks her head and smiles at me. It’s a look that used to work on me, but it doesn’t anymore. I shrug and step aside, letting her into the room. I close the door and then turn around. I frown at her, not sure why she’s here or what she expects me to say. She stares at me for a long time, before she looks away, like she's embarrassed.
And so she should be.
“Look, I just wanted to thank you,” she says.
“For what?” I ask with a frown.
“For the last night? You were so nice and friendly with everyone…including me. I know that must have been hard,” she says, looking up at me. “I know how much having you here means to Josh. I also know it’s probably the last place you want to be.” She pauses for a moment. “It’s good to see you, Chase. You look happy.”
“I guess I am,” I say.
“Alana seems nice,” she offers.
I nod and smile, my heart racing at the mention of her name. All I can think about is getting back to her and feeling the touch of her lips against mine. I could lock myself away with her for days, and it still wouldn’t be enough.
“She’s pretty special,” I agree.
“If it means anything at all to you, I'm glad you’ve found someone who makes you happy,” Casey whispers.
“Because that lessens your guilt?” I ask. Her face goes red, and I sigh.
I didn’t need to say that.
“I’m not here to make you feel bad, Casey. I really am here for Josh. I didn’t want him standing up there alone on a day that should be celebrated with family...”
I frown, realizing just how much we really need each other for support. We’ve missed out on so much over the past year because of this.
Casey shakes her head, tears filling her eyes.
“I'm sorry, Chase. I shouldn't have come here. I’m the last person you probably want to speak to, which I totally understand. It’s just you were so friendly the other night that I thought we could get past this…” She shakes her head. “I'll see myself out,” she mumbles.
I watch her as she walks over to the door. It never entered my mind to stop her, because she’s right. She is the last person I want to be spending my time with right now. Just as she turns the handle to walk out, she turns back to me.
“One more thing,” she says softly.
“Yes?” I say. I clench my hands into fists in my pockets. She can’t look me in the eyes, so I know where this is going.
“I never did thank you. For not telling Josh the truth about what happened,” she says.
“I love my brother,” I reply, as if it’s that simple. “It would have achieved nothing, other than him feeling as hurt as I was.”
Her face falls. She nods and then walks out of the room.
I wait until she closes the door before I let myself relax. I sigh, my heart racing. I needed that, probably as much as she did, because things never really felt resolved between us. I hadn't realized how nervous I'd be about seeing her again until she was there in front of me the other night.
Today, even though not much was said, being able to look her in the eye and not feel like I was going to fall apart feels like a huge step forward. It’s taken a year, but that chapter of my life has finally come to an end. I walk around the room for a moment to gather my thoughts. I flex my fingers, trying to get my blood flowing. My hands are shaking from the adrenaline still pumping through my body.
The only person I really care about, aside from my brother, is sitting in a room next to this one, no doubt wondering what the hell is going on. All the truth is doing right now is sitting in the back of my mind, festering away, while I worry how she's going to react when she finds out.
I need to tell her everything. If I don’t, I’m going to lose her.
I walk over to the door connecting our rooms and gently knock, before opening it. She stands next to the bed, throwing her things into her suitcase. She doesn’t look up, instead putting extra anger into her packing.
She’s taking this well.
“What are you doing?” I ask her.
She zips up the case and then yanks it off, before glaring at me.
“I'll be here for the damn wedding, if that’s what you’re worried about,” she mumbles.
“I don’t care about that. I care about where are you’re going. Are you leaving?” I ask her.
She sighs, finally stopping long enough to meet my gaze.
“I'm requesting another room. One on a different level.”
“Away from me, you mean,” I say, feeling hurt. She shrugs. “Why?” I ask.
“Why?” she repeats. Her eyes flash. “You fucked me all night, Chase. Do you remember that? You made me come four times. And then this morning, your ex-wife knocks on the door and I’m whisked into the other room. How do you think that made me feel?” she whispers, tears forming in her eyes. She sinks down onto the bed, her expression helpless. “God, I hate you so much for how you make me feel. I can't do this anymore, Chase.”
She laughs hysterically. I watch her, alarmed as the laughter turns into tears.
Has she finally lost it?
“Your name is so applicable,” she giggles through her tears. “Because that's what I feel like I’m doing. Chasing you.” I sit down next to her.
“Do you want to know what we spoke about in there?” I ask. She stiffens, not answering me. I continue anyway. “You. Pretty much the whole time she was in there, I was talking about you.”
“Really?” she asks. She frowns at me. “Why was she there in the first place?”
“Because we ended things badly,” I say honestly. “We both needed closure.” I reach over, placing my hand on top of hers. She relents, letting me move her closer to me. “In case I haven't made it crystal clear how I feel about you?” I snake my arm around the back of her neck and bring her face closer to mine. “This is how I feel,” I murmur softly, pressing my lips against hers.
She sighs and lies back on the bed, while I lie next to her. I kiss her, just enjoying the feel of her lips against mine. I harden as her fingers move over my crotch, and I release a groan.
“If we didn't have a wedding to get ready for right now, you know exactly what I’d be doing to you,” I mutter. She laughs and then smiles at me, enjoying the fact that she winds me up so damn much.
After a quick shower, I change into my tuxedo.
Standing in front of the mirror, I button up my jacket while staring at my reflection. I frown, because I feel more like I'm attending a funeral than a wedding. Alana walks into the room. I catch a glimpse of her in the mirror, and I'm stunned. I turn around and take her in, unable to form words to tell her how amazing she looks.
“Is this okay?” she asks, running her hands down over the dress. She frowns as she examines my expression, my lack of response obviously making her insecure. I shake my head and clear my throat.
“I can't even begin to tell you how beautiful you look,” I say hoarsely.
My heart pounds as I walk over to her. I take her hand and wrap it around my waist, pressing my lips against hers.
“How am I supposed to get through today, when you're standing meters away from me, in that dress?” I ask. “I'll be thinking dirty, dirty things about you the entire time.”
She laughs, her cheeks flushing red.
“Not to ruin the moment or anything, but we’d better get moving or risk walking in there late,” she points out.
She takes my hand. I hesitate, because I really want to tell her everything before the wedding. But she’s right. We don’t have time. Enough eyes will be on me today already, without giving people another reason to hate me because we’re late.
We take the elevator down to the ground floor and make the short walk across the hotel grounds to the little chapel down by the beach. Alana glances at me when we reach the doors, confusion in her eyes.
“If we’re this close to the beach, why not get married on the beach?” she asks.
“Because Casey doesn’t like sand,” I smirk.
There’s no one around==no one milling around outside, which means everyone is already inside, probably sitting down, waiting for those doors to open so they can all turn and stare at Casey. Only when they turn, they’ll be getting an eyeful of me first.
“Are you ready?” she asks.
I nod. But then I laugh.
“Honestly? Not really, but I know that I need to do this. For Josh.”
We walk inside, trying our best not to draw attention to ourselves, but it doesn’t matter. I could’ve skydived in through the roof, wearing a tutu and nipple tassels, and it would’ve garnered the same reaction. Every pair of eyes in the chapel turns to stare at me. I feel sorry for poor Alana, because she's going to cop as much wrath I am.
I glance at her and she shrugs, like she can’t understand their reaction. I can. But it's a hard thing to explain why everyone, including my own brother thinks that I cheated on my wife.
I hold my breath and smile as I see people I once knew, pretending I don’t notice the disapproving glares and angry expressions. I expected a reaction, but this is extreme. What were you expecting with a gathering of Casey’s extended family and friends? A hug and a cheer? I can’t understand why Josh wanted me here at all, let alone to be his best man.
I leave Alana down by the door—which will come in handy if things get hairy and she needs a quick escape—and walk up to stand on the stage next to my brother. He glances over and squeezes my arm.
“Thanks for being here,” he mumbles. Then he laughs. “Holy shit, I'm nervous. Is that normal? Were you this nervous when you…” His voice trails off. He stares at his feet, flustered. I smirk and choke back a laugh over what he was about to ask me. “Sorry man,” he mutters, shaking his head. “I'm just not thinking straight at the moment.”
“It's fine.” I grin. “And yes I was this nervous when I married your wife.”
The music starts playing. I straighten up a little and glance toward the door, along with everyone else in the room. They swing open and Casey appears. She looks stunning, as I expected, wearing an elegant, yet simple white dress.
She passes me on her way to Josh. I smile at her and she smiles back. I take a deep breath and clasp my hands in front of me as the celebrant begins the ceremony.
After they exchange their vows, and her mother reads a poem, the ceremony is concluded with their first kiss. I clap along with everyone else and smile at all the right times. Just when I think I can’t take anymore, I glance down at Alana and see her watching me. She nods and blows me a kiss. I smile and look down, her belief in me enough to help me push on.
After the ceremony is over, I walk back down to the front of the chapel, where Alana is waiting for me. I take her hand and squeeze it. As much I hate to admit it, I’m glad I was there to witness their marriage. I would have regretted it if I hadn’t come.
“Glad that's over with?” she asks with a grin.
“More than you know,” I murmur.
We walk outside and hang around until I’m done with the obligatory photos that I need to be present for, and then we’re free for a couple of hours to do our own thing. Standing there with her family didn’t feel awkward at all. The second I'm able to leave, I do, taking Alana’s hand and leading her down to the river, where we sit down.
“What time does the reception start?” she asks.
“Four,” I reply, glancing at my watch. “So, we have two hours to fill in.”
“Two hours,” she repeats slowly. She raises her eyebrows, her eyes sparkling. “How on earth are we going to manage that?”
I chuckle and stand up, taking her hand.
“I can think of a few ways,” I tease. She giggles as she lets me help her to her feet.
We race back to the hotel like a couple of horny teenagers, kissing and touching each other along the way. The moment the doors close on that elevator, I'm all over her. I tilt her face, so I can kiss her neck, and press her up against the wall. She groans as my hands roam over her dress. I press my mouth against hers.
She sighs, her hand running down over my erection. I groan, barely able to control myself. At this point, I don't care who enters the elevator, because removing my hands from her body just isn’t possible.
We stumble out on our floor and race down the hallway until we’re outside our rooms. I lift her into my arms and swipe my key, swinging the door open, while still managing to kiss her. She sighs as I carry her over to the bed and throw her down. All I want to do is get her out of that dress and fuck her as hard as she can take it. She sits up, unzipping the back of her dress, while I watch. I step forward, ready to assist, but she stops me.
“Uh-uh. Stand back there,” she says, a devilish smile forming on her lips.
I groan but do as I’m told.
She stands, ensuring that she’s just out of my reach, before she lowers the delicate lace straps of her dress. I swallow, my throat dry as she inches the dress lower and lower, before eventually letting it go.
“Stay there,” she murmurs, sensing my urge to touch her.
She reaches behind her back and unclasps her bra, holding the fabric over her breasts while she unthreads her arms. Then she slides her panties down over her legs, before stepping out of them.
God, she’s incredible.
Fuck her rules. With a growl, I lunge forward and take her into my arms, throwing her back down on the bed. She laughs as I lift her legs over my shoulders. I unzip my pants and free my cock, lining it up with her pussy. She gasps as I thrust myself inside her with more urgency and determination than I ever have before. Watching her strip like that almost had me coming there and then, so I know I’m close.
I kiss her thighs as I ram myself into her. She gasps, reaching above her head to the wall for support. I growl as my body convulses, and I come, releasing hard into her wet pussy.
She gasps and clenches her thighs around my neck as my length fills her. Breathless and exhausted I groan as my movements slow to a gentle rock.
“Wow,” she mumbles, her eyes wide. She laughs as I lower her legs and collapse onto the bed next to her. “Where the hell did that come from?”
“Sorry,” I grin. “I guess seeing you in that dress really turned me on.”
She smiles and rolls over, nestling into my arms. She falls asleep as I stroke her hair. I watch her, letting her rest, because she fucking earned it. When she wakes up, I’ll tell her everything. I watch her sleep, in awe of how beautiful she is. The way she makes me feel is so surreal, like I can’t quite let myself believe that things could be this good.
We make it back to the reception just before the bride and groom arrive. Even though I intended on staying awake, I must’ve fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew, it was nearly four.
We spend the next hour staying out of people’s way and pretending that neither of us notice the whispering and pointing. Maybe now would be a good time to tell her the truth. I glance around to make sure we’re alone, but before I can broach the subject, she turns to me.
“I’m just going to run to the bathroom,” she whispers in my ear.
She’d been gone for a few minutes, when someone approaches me. They clear their throats, and I look up. I stiffen when I see Casey’s parents standing there. I've done my best to avoid them all day, but it seems they were just waiting for the chance to talk to me alone. I haven’t seen or spoken to them since before my split with Casey.
God knows what they think of me, or what she’s told them.
“I guess I should thank you for not ruining our daughter’s day,” her father says gruffly.
“Oh, I did my best to refrain from doing that,” I say.
I’m not helping the situation with my tone, but I can’t help myself. I didn’t even like them when Casey and I were together. He glares at me.
“You don't think it was a valid concern for us that you might pull some sort of stunt?” he leers. “You did ruin her life, after all.”
I sigh and rub my head. I don’t want to do this here, of all places, for Josh’s sake, but if he keeps pushing me, I’m going to push back.
“I'm sorry for what happened between Casey and me—”
“Are you?” he barks, cutting in. “Because you seemed to have moved on. I’m so happy that you were able to move onto new things so quickly. Do you to have any idea how hard it was for Casey to get over you cheating on her?”
“Well, considering how quickly she jumped into my brother’s bed, I’d say she got over me pretty damn fast,” I retort.
I hear a gasp. I know it’s Alana before I even turn around. She stands there, her eyes wide, staring at me.
“Shit,” I mutter.
I knew there was a risk of her finding out like this, but I didn’t expect it to be from my own mouth. She mutters something incoherent and then turns around, rushing out of the room.
“You better go after her, so you can ruin her life too,” Casey’s father chortles.
I glare at him, wanting nothing more than to wipe the smirk of his face—preferably with my fist, but I need to speak to Alana. I race outside and look around, spotting her running through the gardens, back toward the hotel.
“Alana, wait,” I call out, but she doesn’t stop.
I finally catch up to her just before she reaches the doors. I grab hold of her arm, stopping her in her tracks. She turns around and glares at me, the anger in her eyes making me step back. I thought all I needed to do was explain, and she’d understand, but now I’m not so sure.
“What?” she snaps. She wipes her glassy eyes.
“Just listen to me,” I plead with her. “It's not as bad as it sounds—”
“Not as bad as it sounds?” she repeats with a laugh. “Jesus, Chase, am I stupid? Is that what you think when you look at me? It’s exactly what it sounds like.” She shakes her head. “You bringing me here in the first place is a joke. You’ve fed me one lie after another, and I’ve just sat there, guzzling them all up, like the fucking dickhead I am.”
“Alana—”
“Don’t. Just please, don’t. I feel like enough of a fool already without you making this worse. Just leave me the hell alone, okay?” she whispers. “Go back to your warped little love triangle in there and leave me the fuck out of it.”
“Not until you let me explain,” I say, standing my ground.
“No,” she shakes her head venomously. “You don’t get to do this to me again, Chase. Even though you blindsided me into this whole mess, I still did my part. I pretended to be your girlfriend. Now, you owe me, so just leave me alone.”
She yanks her hand out of my grasp and runs inside, disappearing into the elevator. I stare after her, torn between giving her time to her calm down and chasing after her. I should've just told her the whole truth in the first place. The most fucked up thing is that what she thinks is the truth isn't even the half of it. Only Casey and I know the full story, but maybe it’s time that changed.
I’ll give her an hour to calm down and then try and talk to her again.
Forcing her to confront me isn’t going to do either of us any good.
With one last look inside, I turn around and walk back over to the wedding. No matter how much I want to just crawl into a ball and drink myself to sleep, I need to plaster a smile on my face and pretend that I give a shit about any of this.
I can’t abandon my brother.
An hour turns into two, and two turns into four, until I find myself creeping into my room at five in the morning. I’m very drunk, but that doesn't stop me from banging the hell out of the interconnecting door, demanding that she open up and listen to me. When she doesn't respond, I force my way through the door and into an empty room.
I stand there, my heart racing as I look around. All of her things are gone. I walk up to the bed and sink down on it. Maybe she’s just gone into another room. But even as I think it, I know it’s unlikely. I shouldn't have let her leave like that. I should've just come out and told her everything, right then and there. I owed her that much. With a groan, I lie back on the bed and close my eyes, the effects of the alcohol making my head spin like crazy.
I’ll figure this out in a minute. I know there’s a way for me to fix this; I just need to close my eyes for a second to work it out.
Pain shoots through my head, taking my breath away. I crack open my eyes. It’s morning. I’m lying on Alana’s bed, with my head crooked in an unnatural angle. Shit. I gasp as I straighten it, then somehow manage to roll over onto my stomach. I awkwardly stand up and rub my neck, trying to massage out the kink. I gasp, not sure if I’m helping it or making it worse. I stumble back into my room and pick up my phone.
Shit. I’m about to miss my plane. I frantically throw my things into my suitcase and zip it shut. I don't even bother changing, because I know I don’t have the time.
After I check out, I flag down a cab to take me to the airport. My only saving grace is that traffic is minimal, so I arrived just as they’re closing off the check-in booth.
“Please,” I say after rushing up to the booth.
I’m out of breath and clearly a mess, so I hope she takes pity on me. When I think I almost have her, I flash her a smile. She almost visibly melts, her cheeks flushing.
“Okay, just this once, Mr. Winston,” she says with a giggle.
Thank fucking God. It’s good to know that even hungover and in desperate need of a shower, I’ve still got it.
I alternate the flight back between sleeping off my hangover and glancing longingly at the empty seat next to me. Where is she right now? She obviously caught an earlier flight—which she would’ve paid with using her own money, considering I had authorization over these two tickets. I think about what that means. I upset her so much that she couldn’t stand being on the same flight as me.
I rub my head, trying to ease the aching. The worst thing is that I have no idea how to fix this mess. I tried calling her while waiting to board the plane, but she wouldn’t answer, so I tried texting. Even if she does listen to me for long enough to hear me out, she’s right. I still lied to her, multiple times. Would I forgive someone who’d lied to me more than they’d told the truth? Probably not.
I’m still hung-over and feeling sorry for myself when the flight lands, so I don’t risk driving home. I call myself a cab and give the driver Alana’s address. I don’t intend on trying to speak to her, I just want to know she’s safe. As we drive past her place, I can just make out the glow of a light inside. It doesn’t make me feel much better, but not much will at this point. The driver looks at me and shrugs.
I guess I’ll go home.
“Take me to four one one Wilson Boulevard instead, please,” I order him gruffly.
I slump down in the seat and stare out the window. I hate not knowing where I stand. Okay, so I’ve got a pretty good idea of where I stand right now, but I hate not knowing if I can fix this. God, I hope I can.
I lay in bed and stare at the ceiling, before my eyes dart to my phone again. I sigh when I see no texts or calls from her. I have no idea if she'll even be at work tomorrow. Not that that’s high on my list of problems right now. I roll over and close my eyes, trying to will myself into sleeping, but it’s no use. I can’t get her out of my head. I just keep running over that moment, again and again.
In the end, I throw back the sheets and stalk out to the kitchen and reach for the bottle of scotch I keep on top of the fridge. I twist off the cap and gulp it down, not bothering with a glass.
Breathing hard, I lean against the counter. My hands run slowly over the surface as I remember how it felt to be inside her. Right here on this surface. It feels like so long ago. I hoist myself up and lie back, closing my eyes.
I groan and shield my eyes from the sun that’s pouring through the window. Why the fuck am I out here? I sit up, letting out a growl as my back sticks to the counter, practically ripping off a layer of skin.
Fuck me.
Jumping off the counter, I gingerly take a few steps. I spy the empty bottle of scotch lying beside the sink and sigh as bits of the night come back to me. All I wanted was to go to sleep and get her out of my head. Fuck. Alana. I glance around, looking for my phone. Alcohol and I are not a good mix when I’m depressed, so God only knows what kind of pitiful, desperate texts I sent her while inebriated or how many times I tried to call her.
I find my phone stuffed down the side of the couch. My heart pounds as I check the log first. Five calls. Not as bad as I was expecting. Then I check my text messages. Twenty-Three? Jesus, I’m surprised I got any sleep at all. I frown as I scroll through them.
Me: Please just speak to me. Five minutes.
Me: Alana, please. Just hear me out.
Me: For fucks sake, I just want to talk…
I stop reading, too nervous to see what the rest of them say. My head is pounding, and I think I feel worse than I did last night, if that’s even possible. I sigh and toss my phone on the couch, catching sight of the time in the process.
“Fuck,” I mutter.
It’s nearly one in the afternoon and I should be at work. I have meetings all afternoon, including one with Phillip to discuss the Benson takeover bid that I want him to consider. As shitty as I feel, I refuse to let it affect my clients. I didn’t get where I am today to fuck it all up over some girl.
But she isn’t just some girl, is she?
The knock on the door stops me from entering an internal argument with myself. I walk over and open it, scowling at Josh. He smiles and follows me back inside, where I slump down on the couch.
“Well, you’re a vision of happiness today,” he comments.
“I’m not in the mood,” I mutter.
“You’re also not at work,” he points out.
“Yeah? And how would you know that?” I realize the ridiculousness of my statement the second it leaves my mouth.
He chuckles. “What’s up with you?”
I sigh. “It’s nothing.”
“Does this nothing have anything to do with Alana?” he asks gently.
I shrug. He sighs and sits forward.
“Whatever it is, fix it. She’s good for you,” he says.
“You don’t think I know that?” I say with a snarl.
“Have you tried talking to her? Maybe if—”
“What, Josh?” I growl. “Maybe she’ll forgive me? I can’t even get her to hear me out.” I sigh and rock forward on my feet. “Just stay out of it. I appreciate that you care so much, but you don’t know what your fucking talking about.”
I get to my feet and frown at him.
“Can you see yourself out? I have to get ready for work.”
I stalk into my bedroom and slam the door shut without waiting for him to answer. Stripping out of my boxers, I run the shower in my bathroom, waiting for the water to run hot before I step in. I hear the sound of the front door closing, and I sigh, not feeling the relief that I thought I would. I lean against the tiles, angry at myself, angry at the world. I never should’ve let Casey blame me in the first place.
Why do I always have to fuck everything up?