Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 113072 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113072 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
In her dreams, though, they’re already good at this. Her nights are full of his kisses, and his muscular body weighing her down in bed. Summer is going by way too fast, and she craves this experience. That’s why she convinced him to break the rules and go away for a night with her, even if it’s a risk. He’s on call tonight and every night.
“That’s what phones are for, I guess,” he said. “It’ll be fine.”
She hopes so. But what is taking him so long? If he doesn’t join her in the truck, she’s going to combust from desire, or nerves, or possibly both at once. The longer she sits here, the more she wonders whether Chase has realized that she’s more trouble than she’s worth.
She takes a deep, calming breath. And then she thinks she hears his voice. So she scoots across the truck’s seat toward the driver’s side and peers around the corner of Filbert Hall.
And there he is. He’s talking to Ethan, his camper.
Okay. Fine. He’s on his way. She keeps watching, though, because Chase is endlessly fascinating to her. The way his strong biceps emerge from his T-shirt, for example, will never stop being interesting. And the way he casually leans a shoulder against the brick wall as he talks to his camper. So relaxed. Like sneaking off for sex is something he does all the time.
Although maybe it is.
Chase taps his watch as if making a point about the time. He’s probably reminding Ethan not to miss curfew. Then, as Zoe watches, he reaches into his pocket for a small white bag and passes it to Ethan, who quickly stuffs it into his own pocket.
Odd. But now Chase is wrapping up his conversation by squeezing Ethan’s shoulder. The kid sort of slinks away, and Zoe makes sure to scoot back to her side of the seat before Chase turns around to start toward his truck.
He gets in a minute later, whistling to himself. He pulls the door shut and then reaches for his seat belt, turning to smile at Zoe. “Ready? What should we have for dinner?”
Oh, right. Dinner. That’s definitely not the part of this outing she’s been thinking about. “Whatever you want.”
“But you’re the local, beautiful. Pick somewhere nice.”
She directs him to Carlotta’s Italian Cafe, which is nice but not fancy. There, in the light of the candle flickering between them on the table, she memorizes the exact shape of Chase’s smile. He’s ebullient tonight, telling her funny stories about her uncle’s coaching techniques. “Joking aside, though, he’s been a huge help to me. He’s the first person who ever told me he thinks I can go pro.”
“And that’s what you want?” Zoe asks, happy to talk for a moment about something other than the thing that’s on her mind.
Sex. With Chase.
“I do want it,” he says wistfully. “It’s, like, hard to dream about. I’m sure you know what I mean. There’s always one kid on the team who thinks he’s the next Wayne Gretzky. I don’t ever want to be that guy. But I want to ride hockey as far as I can go. They say that determination matters more than talent, and I’ve got plenty of that.”
“You do,” she agrees.
“We both do,” he says, nudging her knee under the table with his. “It could really happen for us.”
Zoe makes all the right noises of agreement and watches him put away a large steak with polenta and vegetables. She eats a half plate of ravioli, tasting nothing, while butterflies do an intricate dance in her belly.
“Let’s order dessert,” he says when the waiter returns to collect their plates. “Cherry cheesecake? Or tiramisu?” he asks Zoe.
“Um, cheesecake,” she says, just to get the decision out of the way. “One serving, two spoons.”
When it arrives, Chase pushes the plate in her direction. “You first, beautiful.”
She takes a bite, and it’s surprisingly good. Tart and sweet. “Wow.”
He grins. “I love feeding you.”
“Why?”
He turns those blue eyes to hers. “Because it’s fun to make you happy, Ice Princess.” He puts a hand on her bare knee under the table. “This is the best idea you ever had.”
Her stomach flips over as she gives him a nervous smile and agrees.
Chapter 30
Present Day
I feel emotionally unprepared to walk into the lobby of Chase’s gleaming luxury building on West Twentieth Street.
“Good evening. May I help you?” The concierge behind the desk—a beautiful Black woman in a sleek dress and stylish gold hoop earrings—is better dressed than I’ll ever be.
“I’m here to see Chase Merritt?” It comes out sounding like a question, because it’s hard to reconcile the Chase I used to know—the broke college guy in the beat-up truck—with this palace of modern design. The understated furniture is angular in an interesting way, and there are more windows than in a greenhouse.