I won’t cry. I won’t cry. I won’t cry.
I repeat this mantra with every sip of vodka I take.
I will prevail. This is just a blimp in my path of self-preservation. I am stronger than this.
I continue to chant more bullshit while I take another mini liquor bottle from the mini fridge and open it, pacing my room. My phone’s gone off about a billion times since I got back. None being Chase, thank God, because I’m not sure if I could handle anything more thrown at me after what just happened downstairs. Instead, it’s those annoying Facebook notifications, one after another. Ever since Kristen downloaded that damn app on my phone, it never seems to shut up. So and so posted in author group. So and so posted on author page. So and so posted AHHH! Social media just needs to die!
Not to mention, Kristen’s also blowing up my phone wondering where the hell I’m at. I want to respond with in hell drinking my retirement fund in mini liquor bottles out of the hotel liquor cabinet, but that would also mean I’d have to admit I’m alive. And right about now, I’m not sure I can leave my room. And meeting her at the meet and greet she set up would entail doing just that.
I’ve officially diagnosed myself with real life anxiety because my palms begin to sweat just at the thought of leaving this space and running into him. Into anyone. We weren’t quiet and there’s no doubt we made a scene. People heard. Documented it with their stupid phones and stupid social media. It’s only a matter of time before Kristen sees it and sends the troops to come find me.
So, I continue to pace my room. I pace so hard, I worry they’re gonna take my deposit just to replace the carpet when I check out. I know I promised Kristen I’d make the meet and greet, but I’m not sure I can go down there. I’m fighting not to pack my bags and leave, sending a note to Kristen’s room telling her I’m sorry. I know she’ll be more than pissed with me, but she told me from the start she’d understand.
Another ding echoes into my room and I find myself taking down another mini bottle, before checking my phone seeing another text from Kristen. I open the message, reading her urgent plea for me to hurry and how the rampant group of fans is starting to get antsy.
“I need to do it for them. He won’t even be there,” I tell myself, going for my shoes and sliding a shoe up my heel. There’s no way Chase would go to an author meet and greet. Especially one that my best friend is throwing just for me.
I take a few deep breaths, trying to get my shit together. I need to rid myself of anything Chase Green and get myself back on normal ground. I brush my teeth and re-apply makeup that’s worn off from the long day. I decide to change into a tight-fitting dress Randy lent me. It completely clashes with my red Converse, but I can’t give a shit. I do one thing out of the norm and apply a small dab of red lip gloss. I figure I’m feeling rebellious, why not.
My phone dings again with yet another Facebook notification as I finally leave my room. “God, how do you turn these damn things off?” I mumble, pulling my phone from my back pocket. As I swipe to unlock my phone I read the most recent notification.
Carlie Lieber tagged Charlie Bates in a post in New YorkAuthor Signing Attendee group
Oh, did she now.
What the hell does she have to post about? I open the app and go to the group page, which takes forever since I don’t even know how to use the damn thing. Once I make it to the group site I scroll until I see it. And my heart plummets.
Posted is a selfie taken of him with a pretty blonde on his lap. The attached message reads:
He smells just as yummy as his lap feels! <3 <3
I read the message two more times and stare at the picture longer than I should. That… that… “asshole.” I hiss, kicking the wall in the hallway. I kick it again, and then kick the fake plant minding its own business in front of the elevators. He can stand there begging me to give him a chance one minute and two seconds after telling him to beat it, he’s already opening his lap up to the entire female population, with open arms! Or legs, in this matter!
“What a jerk. What a fucking jerk. Jerk. Jerk. Fucking jerk.” I’m a broken record at this point. All that bullshit he fed me. Didn’t take him long to get over the fact that I wouldn’t succumb to his fucking bullshit. If he thinks he’s going to get back at me by pulling this stunt, then he’s way wrong.
I’m out of the elevator and headed toward the hotel bar like a woman on a mission. I’m a wee bit drunk, so I manage to trip over my own shoe getting out of the elevator and stumble twice more once I hit the packed bar. Kristen spots me right away and stands, waiving her hand to call me over. I use my eagle eyes to search out her surroundings when I see it. Or him. And all. Of. Them. Deep breath. You can do this. Okay, now use your feet and walk. I wish that was easier said than done because I sway and bump into a waitress holding a full tray.
“Shit, sorry!” I apologize to the waitress just as I make it to the seated area.
“Hey! Where the hell have you been? I’ve been calling and texting you.”
They chose the lounge seating, which means two couches facing one another. That also means Kristen seems to be on one side with a group of people, and Chase, accompanied by a flock of fans, directly across from her.
I take a quick glance at Chase, making sure he’s paying attention. “Oh, sorry. I had some people in my room for a pre-party.”
Kristen has a strange expression on her face, clearly knowing I’m lying. “Oh. Like who? Isn’t that why we’re having the meet and greet?”
I shrug. “Yeah, but this was a private party, if ya know what I mean.” I wink at her and throw myself onto the lounge chair.
Kristen retakes her seat next to me and flags down the waitress. The group of women surrounding Chase, some from the signing whom I met earlier today, don’t even acknowledge me. They’re all too busy fighting for Chase’s attention. And let me tell ya, if I wasn’t already agitated by him and his intentions, I’m even more so now. I lean forward, grabbing for Kristen’s martini on the tiny cocktail table, but I accidently knock over a bunch of glasses.
“Whoa, careful, honey. Have you been drinking?” Kristen picks up the spilled drinks, while I ignore her and slam the rest of her martini. “Hey… slow down, killer, the night’s just getting started.” She takes her now empty glass and sets it down. When the waitress finally comes by Kristen orders herself a new martini and me a vodka tonic.
“Excuse me.” I flag her down before she makes her getaway. “Make that a double. Actually, just bring two doubles. It’s gonna be a fun one tonight.” I smile and turn away from the waitress but not in the direction of Kristen’s worried eyes. The bad part is the only other way to look is in front of me.
“So, Bates, who’s your new lap dog?” I watch him tense, but the blonde next to him eagerly smiles. I swear she just licked her lips like a hungry animal.
“I have no idea what you’re referring to, but I’m clearly just sitting here. What about you and your room party? What the fuck is that all about?” His eyes are on fire.
Good. I hope they burn and fall out. I lean back, feeling a bit dizzy.
“You sure you’re okay?” Kristen butts in. Giving Chase the evil eye, she asks, “Did something happen?”
“Seriously, I’m fine,” I snap and sit back up, the dizziness hitting me again. Thankfully the waitress shows up with our drinks, distracting Kristen from monitoring me. Grabbing both my glasses, I chug the first one, sloppily placing it back on the waitress’s tray. It’s when I sit back again that the dizziness hits full force. Because in front of me is a beautiful redhead now sitting next to Chase.
“You two make a great couple,” I slur, raising my glass to cheers them.
Chase looks super mad, trying to brush the girl off him. “Knock it off, Katie.”
“No way. You should totally go for it. Take her back up to your room. Probably should feed her too. She looks about ready to take a bite outta your neck.” And boy does that bitch look hungry. Seriously, the amount of times she’s licked her lips.
“I’m not taking anyone up to my room.”
“You’re not?” The bimbo frowns, looking as if she were just told Santa wasn’t real.
“Never say never, girlfriend. Just tell him you’re not into him and he’ll make it a mission to—”
“Stop,” Chase snaps.
“No, for real. She should know.” I take another sip, feeling his eyes as they throw daggers at me. “Charlie Bates for the win. And I’m sure she doesn’t care that you have a girlfriend either. Match made in—”
“Jesus Christ, stop! Look at you. You’re drunk and making a fool of yourself.”
Ouch.
But he’s right.
What am I really accomplishing here? I need to be done. Be done playing games. Be done being hurt, being angry, being confused.
I need to be done.
I startle everyone around me when I pounce up, knocking my knee into the small drink table and shaking half the empty glasses onto the floor. I swig my drink till it’s almost gone then slam it down. “All right, folks. Time to get this party started.” I turn to Kristen. “Don’t wait up, ’kay?” I give my back to the group and make my way to the bar. The vodka is hitting me like a freight train, so my footing is off. I get up to the bar, practically falling into it. I stick my hand up to get the bartender’s attention and look around. It’s difficult to see too far, but I notice some dude sitting two seats down, and he looks to be alone. I hop over until I’m seated next to him.
“Why, hello there, handsome, you alone?” Fuck, that was horrible.
The guy looks me up and down, then tends back to his full drink. “I am. What’s it to you?”
Oh, I’m about to let him know. “Well, you see. I was looking for someone to take back up to my room. You wanna go back to my room and fuck like rabbits?” I know this is bad. This is not me. But I need this to end.
Shock widens his eyes at my bold offer. I may also look a wee bit surprised at how blatantly I offered him sex, but there’s a lot of booze flowing through my veins and right now, I’m letting them do all the driving.
“You serious?”
“As a heart attack. My room. Now.”
He debates it for another ten seconds before he slaps a twenty-dollar bill on the bar and stands. I grab for his hand, mainly for support, and tug him toward the exit. I don’t bother looking back. I pull my victim out of the bar and escort him toward the elevator. It’s a good thing he seems to know the way to the elevators, because seeing is not my best attribute at the moment. As I drag the man along, my mind goes back to the bar and how that stupid chick was practically sitting on his lap. He allowed her to get so close. Her small little body probably would fit perfectly in his lap. And that damn photo. Looking as if he was at ease. Enjoying himself.
My anger flares up like a raging fire. I want to turn around and go back into that bar and rip that stupid girl away from him. Then I want to stab Chase’s eyes out for being him. “I fucking hate him,” I spit out, forgetting my surroundings.
“What’s that, sweetheart?”
I look at the blurry man beside me. I also see a bathroom door. “Oh, fuck it.” I pull him to the side and drag him into the women’s bathroom. Fuck waiting to get back to my room. The faster I get this over with, the faster I’ll rid Chase Green from my system and feel some relief.
I get us into the bathroom stall, and he wastes no time going at it. His hands are up my waist, his sloppy tongue all over my neck, my face, my chin. I allow him free rein because I don’t care at this point. I’m way over caring. I reach down, fumbling with his belt buckle, when the stall door goes crashing open. The dude jumps, ready to yell at who’s interrupting us, when a fist meets his face. Everything happens so quickly. My poor victim is dragged off me and two more closed fists go flying. It’s just when I’m about to start yelling, I’m thrown over Chase’s shoulder and being carried out of the bathroom.
“Who do you think you are? Put me down!” I scream over his shoulder. I yell and fight him the whole way through the lobby, in the elevator and to my room. He doesn’t even ask where that is. It seems he already knows.
“Put me down!” I smack him in the back, feeling dizzy from my entire body of blood flowing to my head. He adjusts me just enough to grab for my room key that’s jammed in my bra and unlocks my door. Storming inside, I go to yell some more, but before I have a chance I’m catapulted off Chase’s shoulder and onto my bed.
“Are you crazy? You could have seriously hurt that guy!”
“Good. He’s lucky to even be breathing right now.”
How dare he? “That was not your business to get involved in!” I snap, trying to sit up.
His eyes go wild with fury, a side very rare for Chase. He comes at me, his dominating frame hovering above me. “It was completely my business. What the fuck were you thinking? Going to let that asshole touch you? Fuck you in that goddamn bathroom?”
I squint at the harshness in his tone. I would have let him do anything to get the image of Chase Green out of my mind and system. Anything to make the pain go away. “Oh, and what about bimbo Barbie? She seemed to be well on her way to having her botoxed lips around your junk. God! Newsflash, Chase, I’m not yours anymore.”
“You will always be mine!” he booms.
His chest is heaving, his hands clenched into white fists. I want to tell him he’s wrong. I’m nothing to him anymore. I’m broken and angry. I bring myself up onto my knees, gathering what wits I have left, and I lift my hand and crush my open palm against his face. The gasp that leaves my lips, startled at my own action, echoes throughout the room along with the sound of my open palm meeting his cheek. Chase’s eyes widen with shock. I fight not to turn away at the reddened mark of my slap, but my lower lip begins to quiver, and the tears threaten to spill.
“Get out.”
“No. I’m not leaving. I won’t let you push me away again.”
Push him away? I’m not the one who put us here. I climb off the bed. I almost fall over, but Chase is there to steady me. “Don’t touch me.” I slap at his hands, fighting off his warm touch. “I want you out of my room.” I put some distance between us, leaning my back against the wall for support.
“Katie—”
“No! Don’t you get it? I hate you. I hate you for what you did to me,” I cry out. “I hate that you made me fall in love with you. For making me feel like I had a chance at happiness. You fucking broke me. And I hate you for that,” I choke out my last words when he reaches out, grabbing my face, and crushes his lips to mine. I bring my hands immediately up his chest, fighting him off me. He doesn’t allow it. His lips become harder against mine, parting my lips. I continue to fight him as he steals this moment.
“You don’t hate me,” he whispers, releasing my lips and pressing his forehead to mine. He doesn’t care that my hands are in a death grip on his shirt, or that I’ve begun to soak both our faces with my tears. The back of his hand brushes away the wetness as he threads his fingers into my hair. “I love you, Katie.”
Four words that feel like a double-edged sword digging into my heart. “No.” I shake my head, needing those jaded words to not make their way into my heart. “I can’t do this with you anymore.” I’m no longer able to keep my emotions at bay. I push him off me, and this time he allows it. “Stop using those words to change things. You think I believe them when you spit them out? Everything you’ve done, you don’t love me—”
“Don’t.” He stops me. “Don’t doubt the one thing I’ve never been more sure of. How do I show you? Prove to you?”
“You can’t. Not anymore—”
He’s on me again, his lips back covering mine. “I can.” He’s kissing me hard. My hands are fighting against him, working up his chest until the need to have him breaks. My fingers work themselves into his hair, gripping so tight, a groan filters through his lips as he parts mine, taking his tongue inside my mouth. He presses his body hard into mine, pushing my back firmly against the wall. I feel how hard he is everywhere, and I snap. I’m kissing him back just as rough, fighting back with each violent stroke of our tongues.
His hands become just as ruthless as he tugs my dress up my thighs, grinding himself into me. The sensation it creates causes my fingers to curl. I moan, lifting my legs. Chase is right there grabbing my thighs, wrapping my legs around his waist.
“You’re so damn perfect.” His lips rip away from mine, taking his mouth to my neck, roughly kissing down my skin, using a hand to squeeze my breast.
I don’t allow his words to sink in. I don’t want to think about what’s happening. Right now, I just want to feel. I drop my head against the wall, giving him free rein of my body. My skin buzzes at the feel of him touching me. On me. My hands begin to shake. I need him so bad, it’s scaring me. Just feel, Katie. I drop a hand and fumble with his zipper. His hand is back working my dress up my thighs, pushing it past my hips. My thong is gone just as I get his zipper down. He helps me push his jeans down and then he’s pushing inside of me.
I would say it was the moan heard around the world. Hot, loud. Emotional. Physical. A feeling like I just came home. He pulls out and slams back into me pushing my back up the wall, setting off another round of sounds filtering through our lips. Again and again, until he knows he has my attention. He brings his lips back to mine, taking my mouth hard against his. His silent message telling me, showing me, this is what love feels like. Raw, vulnerable. He’s baring himself in this kiss. In the way he owns my body.
“I know you feel it,” he breathes, bringing me to the brink, my body in desperate need to release all the pent-up anger, sadness, need for him. I don’t answer him. I fight to admit that I do feel it. In every bone in my body. It’s my heart that’s beating so hard in confusion. What will happen once we come down and there are no more silent words between us. I feel the tear fall from my eyelids as my orgasm comes crashing down over my body. I squeeze tightly around Chase, just as he grabs me, pressing me firmly against him. We climax together, the sounds of both our hearts, bodies, physical and emotional strain releasing.
It is only the inevitable that once we come down, reality sinks in. Oh my God, what did we just do? I begin shaking my head. The tears instant. I shouldn’t have allowed this to happen. My mind is muddled, confused, and unsure on what to do next.
“Don’t pull away from me. I can feel you wanting to.”
I want to do more than pull away. I want to run so fast away if it meant not having to face what happens next. I listen. Or I tell him to leave. Two options. I open myself up to more pain at whatever he has to say, or I choose to hurt by taking him out of the equation altogether.
“This was a mistake.” I wiggle out of his grip, so he has no other option but to put me down. He pulls out, leaving me feeling emptier than before. “Get out. I need you to just get out.” I fight for air, knowing I’m about to lose it once again.
“No. Katie, I’m not leaving this time. I’m not allowing you to push me away anymore.” He tries to console me, but my hands go up, thrusting into his chest and pushing him away from me. “Katie—”
“GET OUT.”
Chase steps back, thrusting his hands through his hair. He’s breathing heavily, just as I am. “No. I’m not giving up on us. I know I fucked up and, dammit, I hate myself for lying to you, but I had my reasons.”
“Get out.”
“No! I’m not leaving. I lied. I kept things from you. And now I need you to hear me out.”
“Stop. I don’t want to hear—”
“She was blackmailing me.”
I stop fighting him.
“She knew things about me and was using them to keep me from breaking ties.”
I look at him in disbelief. “You expect me just to believe that? Some generic excuse and I’ll fall for it?”
“I expect you to believe it, because it’s the truth.”
I must look like such a fool to him. Everyone has dirt on people, but if he thinks… “Do you honestly take me for that big of a fool? You think just ’cause I let you fuck me I’ll believe you? Newsflash—”
“I WAS IN REHAB.”
His words shock me silent.
He scrubs his palms down his face and continues. “Last year I spent three months in rehab. A few months before that, six months.”
That was not what I expected from Chase. “What are you talking about? Why?”
“Because I had a drinking problem. And it got really bad. I let the fame of the sport get to me. I drank to celebrate, I drank to destress, I drank just to drink. Before I knew it, there wasn’t a reason, time, or place I wasn’t drinking.” He turns away from me, so he no longer has to face me when he talks. “I was with Rebecca during this time. She was my main cause of it. I’m not blaming her, but she wasn’t helping me. She was pushing me to do the events, the parties. She was just as big of a drinker as I’d become. During one of my many occurrences where I blacked out I did something I shouldn’t have. I was being scouted for the NHL and I accepted a gift, which is a big no-no. Rebecca and her father made it go away. That’s when I put myself in rehab the first time.” He turns back to me. “When I got out I saw a lot of things clearer. Rebecca, for one, was no good for me. Being sober allowed me to see how badly she was using me. My career benefited hers big-time. If I made it big, it was because of her. When I came home the first time, trying to break things off, she fought me on it. Convinced me to stay. She also got me to start drinking, causing me to lose my senses again.”
I can see the guilt pouring from his words. There’s no hiding the shame in his eyes.
“The second time I entered rehab was because I almost killed another person while driving. I was spiraling worse than before. I felt myself losing control of my life, my career. When I got home the second time, I told myself I was done. I had it out with Rebecca. I told her we were through. I wanted nothing to do with her deceptions nor her father’s claws that he had so deep in my hockey career.
“She had no intentions of letting me go. She threatened to go to the media with my addiction. Tell the NHL how I’d accepted a scouting gift, which would have killed any chance of playing for the NHL.” He comes close enough that I can see his hands trembling. “Rebecca never signed on to the author event. I came home and saw the paperwork. She wanted to control me and everything I did. But when I came home, I told her we were through and I left. I filled out the form myself and sent it to Kristen. It was the perfect opportunity to leave and give Rebecca the chance to move her stuff out.”
“But she didn’t leave.”
“No.” He drops his head, his hands pushing through his hair.
“Why didn’t you just tell me this? Why the lies, Chase?”
He lifts his hands to touch me, then thinks twice of it and drops them. “Because who wants to meet someone and have to admit they were an alcoholic? Battling to keep my dream of playing hockey in the NHL because I fucked up.”
I try and rack my brain over the past few months and it’s true, I never saw Chase drink. All the times that I did, he never indulged. Oh my God, all the times I drank in front of him. All the times I blacked out. “Chase, why…”
“My addiction is my problem, not yours. I needed to prove to myself I was fighting it. If I couldn’t handle being around booze and not drink, then I wasn’t where I needed to be. But you… You made it bearable.”
“By being a drunk in return?” God, the guilt that I’m drunk right now makes me feel like shit.
This time he does follow through, lifting his hands and cupping my face. “I kept it from you because I didn’t want you to judge me. I lied to you about Rebecca because I didn’t want her anywhere near the perfect thing I was building with you. She may not have accepted that we were done, but I was. She didn’t own me anymore. You did.”
“Chase…”
“I lied because I was ashamed. You saw this perfect guy, but in reality, I was nowhere near that.”
Everything he’s telling me becomes too much. The truth is not what I was expecting.
“Stop, please don’t. No more crying.”
I didn’t even realize I’d begun to cry. Chase pulls me away, lifting me into his arms and walking us over to the bed. He lays me down, placing himself next to me. Our eyes meet once again and there’s a similar look in both. Pain. Sadness. Regret.
“I don’t want to be the reason you cry. Ever.” He lifts his hand to wipe the fallen tear off my cheek. His eyes are pleading.
I take in a deep breath, trying to rein in my emotions.
Can everything he just confessed allow me to get past the hurt and distrust he’s already imbedded in me? I stare into his shining green eyes. Ones I’ve gotten lost in so many times before. Seen a future in. That forever love I never thought existed.
“I’m scared,” I admit. I’m scared of being naive. Allowing my heart, who wants to mend so badly, to just blanket the damage. I shake my head, the tears starting all over. I’m so damn scared. It’s not until my sobs soften and my breathing levels out that the stress of the day, the alcohol, and Chase Green’s confession catch up to me and I fall asleep in his arms.