Chapter Eleven

Chastity

“I don’t know what happened,” I snapped, spitting the words out for what felt like the hundredth time. “I just got home. I told you that already.”

“Ma’am, we’re trying to do our job here,” the cop replied. His name badge read ‘Darmody.’ “And if you can’t tell us exactly what you were doing out, we’re not going to be able to help you.”

“I was going for a walk,” I said, my voice laced with irritation and sarcasm. Who the fuck did he think he was talking to? I was the victim here! “And then I looked behind me, some creepy stalker was hot on my heels and when I got home, I found this.” I shoved the creepy note I’d found under Officer Darmody’s nose. “It wasn’t in an envelope. It was right there.” I pointed toward our woebegone IKEA coffee table. “I thought it was from my roommate, Trina.”

“And why would Trina leave you a handwritten note? Don’t you kids just communicate via Snap Chat or some such thing?”

“I don’t know!” I exploded. Losing. My. Shit. “Because we live together, did you think of that? Yeah, how weird. A roommate leaving her roommate a note!”

Officer Darmody rolled his eyes. I could practically read his mind: Oh god, it’s close to five. Just one more hour and then I can go get a doughnut. Hell, I can get TWO doughnuts. And coffee. I need coffee. This has been one hell of a day. Fucking college kids wasting my time. There’s real crime out there, and I’m stuck here in this crappy apartment.

“I see,” he said in a clipped tone. “May I?” He reached for the note and held it close to his nose as if to sniff out the perpetrator. Did he think it had been doused in cologne? “Well, this is unusual, but it’s certainly not unheard of. Is there anyone you could think of who would do this?”

“Her old boyfriend,” Trina cut in. “That guy…what was his name?” She turned to me, her finger tapping her luscious, full mouth. “Ned?”

“Nathan,” I said in a rush to deny the assumption. “And he was not my boyfriend. We went on one date, that’s all. And he asked me out again, but I said no.”

Officer Darmody let out an infuriating little chuckle. It was somehow more patronizing than one of those bullshit head-pats. “Well, if the NYPD decided to chase every scorned man in the city, we’d certainly have to hire more beat cops.” He laughed at his own joke, his foul breath spreading through the room. “Now, ma’am, tell me seriously. Is there anyone who would threaten you?”

I frowned. “Did you…not listen to what I just said?”

“Oh, no, I heard you. Loud and clear.” Officer Darmody chuckled again, and I resisted the urge to punch him right in the stupid, smelly mouth. “But seriously, we can’t go after anyone unless they’ve threatened you. It would be a waste of resources, and an insult to Ned’s character.”

“Nathan’s,” I shot back. “And you can’t look into him? Go by his place and ask if he’d do this? Maybe he has a history of…violence.”

Officer Darmody shook his head. “I’m afraid we can’t do that without probable cause,” he replied. He tucked the note underneath some papers affixed to his plastic clipboard. “And rejecting someone for a date, while it may seem of the utmost importance to you college girls, unfortunately, doesn’t cut it in the real world.” He smiled again, and I had to shove my hands in my pockets so my fist wouldn’t “accidentally” throat punch him.

“Right, well. Whenever you’re done calling my roommate paranoid, you can leave,” Trina said casually. She walked over to the front door and threw it open. Noise from the hall flowed into the apartment, and I cringed at the sound of our elderly neighbor disciplining one of her cats for the millionth time that day.

“Right-o,” Officer Darmody said in a faux-cheerful voice. He handed me a card. “If anything – and I mean something serious – happens, go ahead and give me a call. I’ll be right over.”

I rolled my eyes as his fat, squat frame waddled out of the front door. Trina slammed it behind him.

“Rude bastard,” she said to the wooden door.

“Yeah. And don’t let the door hit your fat ass on the way out,” I mumbled. “God, what a piece of work. Can you believe that? He didn’t even listen to me. I could be in grave danger. And then he tried to make me feel like a damned criminal, just for taking a walk in my own neighborhood.”

“It was shitty,” Trina agreed. “But cops are apathetic like that. After so many days become years, they lose all empathy.” She ran a hand through her massive head of glossy curls. “Hey, wanna get takeout?”

“Yeah, sure,” I replied. “Chinese? Indian?”

“Jerk chicken,” Trina said as she passed me a glossy flyer. “In honor of Darmody. This was on our door the other day. The place is new, right down the block.”

“Oooooh,” I gasped in delight as I snatched the flyer out of her hands. “I think we shall. I’m tight this month, but I can always shake loose some coin for jerk chicken.”

Trina giggled, and I hissed in a cleansing breath. Thank God for my friend and her twin sense of humor. She got me. We lived for takeout, especially from the various new restaurants that popped up around our neighborhood of Crown Heights, Brooklyn. It wasn’t the most posh, chic, or glamorous neighborhood in the world, but it was home. And aside from entering my apartment and finding creeptastic notes, I was generally pretty happy about living here.

“Hey, sorry I startled you, by the way,” Trina said. She flopped onto the couch and grabbed her phone. “I know, I know. I should have announced my presence. But I didn’t think you’d jump a mile like that!” She smirked. “You didn’t used to be so jumpy, Chas.”

I rolled my eyes. “Don’t remind me,” I mumbled. My cheeks flushed just thinking about what had happened. “I guess I was just really on edge from that creeper following me around.”

“Oh, I probably would’ve shrieked,” Trina said. “So, two large buckets of chicken with fried plantains on the side and ginger beer?”

My stomach growled. “Yes, please,” I said. “That sounds incredible.”

A loud knock at the door made me jump again. I rolled my eyes. “I fucking hate myself today,” I mumbled.

Trina laughed. “Twitch much?”

I stuck my tongue out at her as I crossed the room and rested my hand on the knob. “Maybe Darmody went out and bought a doughnut, and now he’s feeling more up to doing his job,” I joked as I yanked the door open. I gasped when I saw who stood on the other side.

None other than the Greek god himself, Chase Bradenton. His tousled dark hair swooped over his forehead, and there was a sexy line of stubble on his jaw. I felt like all the air had been sucked from the hallway and my lungs as my mouth dried up. I scanned my eyes up and down his taut body. Sexy tailored dark pants met my gaze along with a button-down shirt with the first two buttons unfastened, showing off that godlike chest. If only he’d lean in, I could dart my tongue out and lick it.

“Oh,” I said, my eyebrows shooting up to the sky. Damn heart wouldn’t stop pounding a rapid pulse straight to my temples. “Hi. I wasn’t expecting you.”

Chase pushed his way into the apartment without being invited in. When he saw Trina lounging on the couch, he stopped dead in his tracks.

“Hey,” Chase said, dismissing her as he turned back to me. “Can we talk?”

“Sure.” I knitted my brows together. “My room?”

“I was actually thinking over dinner,” Chase said. He grinned and my heart lurched in my chest. “Something casual, obviously.”

“We’re ordering jerk chicken. We’ve had a lot of them inside this apartment today already,” Trina called. “You want some?”

Chase reared back with a confused expression but didn’t respond.

I swallowed. “Uh, Trin, maybe Chase and I should just go out and give you some space,” I said. “Our couch isn’t really big enough for three people, and he says he needs to talk.”

Trina flashed a megawatt smile and scooted to the end, perching with her long elegant legs splayed out in front of her. “I don’t take up much room,” she replied, batting her eyelashes. “Well? Chase? Wanna join us for…jerk?”

“I’m craving cheeseburgers,” Chase said. He rubbed his flat abs. “Chastity, what do you think about Café Deluxe?”

My stomach rumbled so loud the pigeon outside the double-paned window could hear it, and my cheeks burned bright red. “I think you have your answer,” I said. “Let me change, I’ll be out in a minute.”

Taking a moment to lament leaving Chase alone with my drop-dead gorgeous roommate, I sprinted into my room. Trouble, my fat tabby, lay perched on the bed, purring and kneading at the duvet with her eyes closed. I kissed her on the forehead and gave her a quick cuddle.

“Mommy’s going out for a while,” I told her in a soothing tone. “But I won’t be long. Be good. No claw holes in my bedspread.”

As quickly as I could, I shimmied out of my jeans and sweater. When I looked at myself in the mirror, I cringed. I was wearing a pair of faded pink cotton panties that looked like they’d been washed in Clorox a hundred times. God, I thought. I really have to go shopping at some point. I yanked them off, then kicked them under the bed as Trouble watched me with a judgmental eye.

“You’d do the same thing,” I told her with a smirk. “You haven’t seen this guy yet. He’s yummy, Troubs. Delectable.”

As if to defy me on purpose, she yawned, then rolled into a ball. I laughed and yanked my underwear drawer open, looking for one pair of panties in particular. A few months ago, when I was preparing for my phone sex gig, I’d bought a pair of black silk panties with lace on the sides. They were the most “adult” panties I owned, and I knew it was silly, but I felt sexier and more confident with them on. I rarely wore them, except for special occasions. But as I dug through the drawer, I realized that I couldn’t find them anywhere.

With a frown, I turned to the laundry basket and quickly rifled through everything. Damn, I thought. They must be lost somewhere. But that doesn’t make sense – I almost never take them out of the drawer. And it’s not like I’ve ever stayed the night and left them at someone’s house. I’ve never stayed the night at someone’s house.

Finally, I pulled out a pair of clean cotton panties and pulled them up my legs, then grabbed a jersey dress from the closet. With a pair of dark tights and ankle booties, I looked almost presentable. Not Chase Bradenton presentable but Brooklyn presentable. Shit. Could I do this? I felt less-than.

Chase waited by the door. “Shall we?”

“Yeah,” I replied. “Let’s go.” Turning to Trina, I flashed her an apologetic smile. “Hey, Trin, sorry! We’ll do jerk tomorrow, okay? I’m sure there will be no absence of jerks on a fresh day, right?”

“Whatever,” she mumbled as Chase opened the door. “Have a good time, y’all.”

I was expecting to see Chase’s limo and driver, Diego, waiting for us downstairs. But the curb stood empty. I turned to Chase in surprise.

“It’s Diego’s day off,” he explained. “And I could have borrowed a company driver, but I hate those things. I thought I’d drive myself,” he added, putting his hand on the small of my back and guiding me down the sidewalk. “I know Diego’s the bomb, but how hard could it be?”

When I saw the car resting there, I gasped. A Morgan 4/4 loomed before me like a hazy, vehicular fantasy, gleaming in quiet, elegant perfection.

“Oh my god,” I breathed. “This is yours?”

Chase nodded. “My baby,” he said proudly, patting the soft top.

“I’ve always wanted one, ever since I saw it in that movie,” I confessed, not able to look him in the eye. I simply stared at the car in rapt fascination. “You know, the one with Kathleen Turner and Michael Douglas?”

Chase burst out laughing. “That’s exactly why I bought this car,” he said and smirked at me. “See, great minds think alike. I knew there was a reason I accidentally called you on the company landline that day, Chastity.”

I blushed furiously as I lowered myself into the passenger seat. We tore across town, darting in and out of traffic with incredible ease. I marveled at the way Chase drove – it seemed to match the rest of his personality. Flow. The man had it in spades. His strong muscular hand on the gearshift flooded my fresh cotton panties, and I fanned my palm in front of my flushed face. Before I wanted the ride to be over, he cruised to a stop at the valet park for Café Deluxe.

“So,” Chase said, as soon as we were seated in a booth at the back of the restaurant. “What the hell happened?” He smirked. “I woke up, and you were gone. I admit that I wasn’t quite sure what kind of reception I’d receive just showing up at your apartment. I’m glad you’re not immune to my charms.”

“Yeah…” I trailed off. “I’m really sorry about that, Chase.” I bit my lip. “You’re going to think it’s dumb.”

Chase reached across the table and took my hand in his own, lacing his big fingers with mine. As always, the contact made a shiver of yearning crawl down my spine. My heart thumped as his dark eyes locked on me in an undeniable stare. I couldn’t look away. Didn’t want to.

“I promise, I won’t think it’s dumb. Unless you tell me you had to run home to snuggle with Trouble,” Chase replied, stroking the inside of my palm with his thumb. Everywhere he caressed my naked skin, I burned. “Kidding, Chastity. Definitely kidding. I actually like cats. Had one growing up. Morris. Like the commercial.”

I blushed again, not sure what to say. How to articulate my roiling emotions where this man was concerned. He seemed to cause all of my long-buried feelings of unworthiness to come bubbling back to the surface.

Thanks, Mom. Here I have the most incredible man ever sitting across from me, and I can’t even enjoy it because you didn’t know how to parent.

“I didn’t like myself when I was in your condo,” I said. “I mean, I love your condo. It’s beautiful. Stunning really, and you’re so lucky to live there. But…” I trailed off and swallowed, gathering courage. His gaze never wavered, and he didn’t let go. Like he was actually listening to me. Like he cared about my thoughts and feelings. “It didn’t feel like me. It felt…” I gasped for breath, groping through the mental darkness for the right word. “It felt wrong. I felt like I was running away from something. And I’m not that kind of girl, Chase. I’ve always prided myself on being independent and self-possessed. I don’t want to run from trouble at the drop of a hat. I can’t be scared away from living my own life.”

Chase frowned. “You weren’t exactly running from nothing, Chastity. You felt threatened. And I’m not going to just sit there and let you put yourself in danger so you can preserve this notion of feminine independence. Men were put on this earth for a reason. Let us do our jobs to protect and serve.”

“That’s not it,” I shot back, my heart sinking at his words. He sounded like a human sound bite for the NYPD. I’d been so hopeful just to have that indulgent emotion dashed at his carelessness. “You don’t get it.”

Chase’s face fell, especially the corners of his lush mouth. I felt the sudden urge to flee again.

“I think I get it,” he said. “You don’t want to feel like you’re letting me take care of you. But from my perspective, I’m only doing what a good friend would do. This isn’t about me wanting to take away your rights, Chastity. It’s about being smart. At some point, living in this city, some bad things are inevitable. And I’d prefer if you stayed as safe as possible…which sometimes, yes, means ‘running from problems.’” He used air quotes as he talked, and I felt my anger begin to ebb. His explanation made sense.

“I know you’re right,” I grumbled, wanting to pull my hand out of his. It felt constrictive to be touching him now. Like if I continued to rely on him, I’d lose myself. I’d lose everything. “In my brain, that is. But my heart doesn’t want to let me run away so easily. I feel like I’m giving up. And I never give up.”

Chase sighed again. A big, heaving sigh that let me know I’d gotten to him. But this time, I didn’t want to escape. I wanted to crawl inside him and become enveloped in his warmth and protection. But at what cost?

“I get that,” he replied. “I really do. But Chastity, part of being an adult means knowing when to be smart to stay safe. How will you be able to change the world one underprivileged kid at a time if you’re injured? Or worse? And I feel like you’re old enough and wise enough to understand that because of what you’ve already been through in your life.”

“You’re right,” I mumbled. A waiter placed a basket of bread and olive oil between us, and I fell upon it like a starving woman, finally breaking the physical connection between us. “This is so good.”

Chase grinned. “I love a woman with an appetite. Makes me wonder what else she’d like to devour.” He took his own piece of bread and chewed before opening his mouth again. “So…” he raised his eyebrows and smirked. “I think we can safely move on from last night, but there’s something else I want to ask you.”

My mouth, despite the delicious herbed oil, went dry again. I didn’t like the sense of doom that destroyed my zeal for the delicious food. “What’s that?”

“It’s nothing sinister,” Chase said. He grinned at me and my stomach twisted itself into knots. That smile could be the undoing of a third world country. “Just, how the hell are you a virgin? You’re gorgeous, you’re smart, and you’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen. I guess you probably fought guys off tooth and nail in high school, right?” He smirked again, and I licked my lips. The urge to lean across the table and plant a kiss on his luscious mouth was almost too much to bear.

“God,” I muttered. “No, that’s not exactly it. Not even close.”

“Purity ring, then? Daddy-daughter dances at church?”

“Ew!” I cried, bursting into laughter. “That sounds like a reality TV show on Bravo. No way. That’s gross, Chase. Besides,” I added, rolling my eyes. “Daddy was never around. Mom made sure of that. I mean, I doubt she could even tell me who my father is, much less whether or not he would have cared about the status of my love life.”

“Well? Long-distance boyfriend? What is it, then?” He sat back in the chair and waited as if there had to be a particular reason for my virginity other than the truth.

I bit my lip. “It’s kind of embarrassing,” I mumbled.

“All virginity stories are embarrassing.” Chase grinned. “Let’s make a deal…I’ll tell you mine, you tell me yours, okay?” I nodded. “I lost it when I was sixteen. An older woman – she was seventeen. We met at my parents’ twenty-fifth anniversary. She was some friend of my cousin’s. She was cute, but a little on the slutty side…she blew me under the table as my dad was giving my mom a toast.”

“Oh my god,” I groaned. “That is not true!” I threw a small piece of bread at his face, and he ducked. “I may never recover from the mental image.”

“Okay, your turn.” Chase shot me a smug grin. “And this better be good.”

“You’re going to be disappointed,” I warned.

“I’m waiting.” Chase smiled full on, flashing his white teeth. Like a boy who’s just asked his mother for a lollipop and gotten the whole bag. “Chastity…?”

“Right,” I mumbled. “So there was this guy in high school. Damon.”

“Ooh, Damon!” Chase’s voice was high and girlish. “Did you write his name in your notebook? With hearts and flowers and butterflies?”

“Stop it, or I won’t tell you,” I growled. My cheeks turned red as Chase laughed across the table. “No. I didn’t. He was cute, though – all the girls thought so. He played on the varsity lacrosse team even though he was only a junior. Anyway, for some reason, he asked me to junior prom. I couldn’t believe it.” I tossed my dirty-blonde hair over my shoulder and glanced down at my grubby fingernails, wishing that I’d had time to paint them before Chase had shown up at my apartment.

“Sounds like true love,” Chase opined and tented his fingers in front of his smug face. “High-school style. Don’t feel bad. We’ve all been there.”

“It wasn’t true love, trust me.” I rolled my eyes and took a sip of water to moisten my dry throat and provide fortification. “Anyway, he was kind of quiet and shy, and we mostly just talked whenever we were alone. He hated making out.” I swallowed. This was the part of the story I didn’t like telling, especially not to someone as gorgeous as Chase. If he heard my shame and then turned away or all out rejected me, I might not ever be able to tell it again. “I figured after a while that you know, the problem…well, that the problem was with me. I’m not a knockout or anything.”

“That guy was a moron,” Chase said. He winked at me. “If it had been me, you would’ve had hickeys all the time. I’m talking like, full-on wool scarf in summer kind of hickeys. Sixties, hippy turtlenecks and berets for your senior photo.”

I rolled my eyes at that mental image and didn’t engage. “Anyway, I was really…um…curious. And all of my friends were starting to you know, go further with their boyfriends. I felt alone and left out. Like the last one to arrive at the party of the season. I was really jealous. I would have done anything, just to say that I’d done it. I tried to go down on him a couple of times, and he pushed me away. The last time, he slapped me across the face.”

Chase’s features twisted into a grimace. “Fucking moron. If he was here right now, I’d slap him across the face. With a closed fist.”

“Anyway, we dated for a year, which is like forever in high school. My friends couldn’t believe that we weren’t sleeping together. They always used to bug me for details about what he was like. It was crazy, they wouldn’t believe me that he didn’t really seem to like me that much, despite holding my hand in the hallways and stuff.”

“So? What happened?”

I sighed and propped my head up on my palm with my elbow resting on the table. “So for senior prom, I decided I’d surprise him. I got a hotel room and went shopping with my best friend. We bought this cheap, slutty lingerie from Charlotte Russe. Oh my god, it was a fucking nightmare. Anyway, I told him as soon as all of the arrangements were in place. It was such a pain in the ass too. I had to lie about my age when I made the reservation and use my friend’s mom’s credit card and everything, even for this cheap motel room.”

“And what did he say?” Chase smirked. “I bet he came in his pants.”

“No,” I replied, a little sadness creeping into my voice. My mind drifted back, and I couldn’t stop the emotions from overwhelming me. Tears pricked the corners of my eyelids. “Um, he stopped calling me. It didn’t happen right away – it was slow. But after a couple of weeks, I could definitely tell that something was wrong. He called me the day before prom to say that he’d pick me up at seven, but on prom night, he never showed up.” I shrugged. “Like, I waited for three hours. And nothing. When I called his house, his parents told me that he’d already left for college – he was taking a summer semester, and he’d decided to start early.”

“Fuck,” Chase mumbled. “What the hell was wrong with that guy?”

“Well, we didn’t speak again until I was at Hunter for my frosh year. He sent me a Facebook friend request, and I was like, totally flipping out. I showed my friends at college like, oh my god, look! My high school bf totally wants to reconnect with me. I started thinking about what it would be like when he came back to New York on Thanksgiving break. I was projecting. I know, it’s pathetic. But I felt like I needed some kind of closure.” I paused and took a deep breath. “And then he posted a status about how relieved he was to have come out of the closet. I was just a ruse.”

“Jesus,” Chase said. “That’s a story for the books. I’m so sorry that happened to you. No one should ever have to go through something like that. And then what?”

I shrugged. “Well, that was it. And then, you know I was in college. So I didn’t really have time to date. But I still felt like it was my fault, even though…um…even though I knew he was gay. I figured there must be something wrong with me, because even if he was aware that he was gay when he asked me, there must have been something that just screamed ‘prude’ or ‘stupid’ or something. Like he knew he could use me for his own selfish gain and to try to deflect attention away from the truth. I’m not the best at trusting people, you know. I’ve kind of been through life’s wringer.”

Chase licked his lips. He opened his mouth as if to speak, then leapt out of his chair. Before I could ask him what was the matter, his arms were around me and his mouth pressed against mine, capturing my lips in a kiss that said what words could not. Comfort. Passion. Understanding. I felt them all and more in the beauty of his simple gesture. I moaned softly as his tongue slipped between my lips, sparring and playing with the hidden corners of my mouth. As a thrill of lust squirmed between my legs, I felt myself surrender, letting myself turn to putty in his hands.

When he broke the kiss, I was breathless. I stared for long moments until a tinkling of applause came from the booth behind us.

“Nicely done, dude.” A yuppie couple gave us a toast with their water glasses.

“Chastity,” Chase whispered in a grave tone as he cradled my face in his large palms. Then, he took my hand in his and lifted my fingers to his mouth for a kiss. “There is absolutely nothing wrong with you, do you understand that? You are perfect, exactly the way you are. Something bad happened. It doesn’t define you.”

I shivered. “I don’t–”

“Say it,” Chase growled. “Tell me you know how wonderful you are. I want to hear positive words drip from your perfect lips.”

I swallowed. My heart raced in my chest, like a bird trying to free itself from a cage. I wanted to fly. “There’s nothing wrong with me,” I whispered.

Chase kissed my fingers again. “That’s a good start,” he murmured. “That’s a very good start.”