Loving Chase: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romance Novel

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Loving Chase: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romance Novel Page 8

by Tania De Melo


  Wanting to get away from any conversation involving Dylan at this moment, I respond, “You’re right, I don’t know what I was thinking. Anyway, has the monsoon stopped out there?”

  Chase chuckles. “No, it actually seems to be getting worse.”

  “Why did you come home? You shouldn’t have been out in this weather, Chase.”

  He waves me off. “I was already halfway home when it started, so it was safer just to continue slowly. Besides, it’s not like I was driving; I took a cab.”

  Standing from the couch, I move to the back doors. “It doesn’t look like it will be letting up any time soon.”

  “No, I wasn’t kidding when I said it’s getting worse. Vel, you’re here for the night.”

  I look over and a smile is plastered across Chase’s face. “Why are you smiling?”

  “Because now we can have another sleepover.” He pulls his backpack over his shoulder. “This way, bestie. You can crash in the spare room tonight, but first, we conquer Mario Kart.”

  I let out a chuckle. When Chase stayed at my place the last time, I could barely operate the controller, so he vowed to educate me in the art of gaming—his words not mine. Apparently, we’re starting tonight.

  “Come on. We’ll set up in my room that way we don’t have to deal with my brother.”

  I follow as Chase leads the way, grateful that I won’t have to lay eyes on Dylan again tonight. But that’s short-lived when he pops up in Chase’s doorway.

  “Here, you can use this tonight,” he says, holding something out in his hand. When I step closer, I see that he’s holding a nightlight. A Winnie The Pooh nightlight to be exact—what an asshole.

  “You’re a jerk; you know that. Scaring me before didn’t satisfy your wretched soul now you want to rub it in my face? You’re a real piece of work,” I shout in his face.

  Dylan just stands there staring at me, his expression not showing any emotion either way, not that I was expecting it to.

  “Asshole.” I give him one last stare then walk back to the other side of Chase’s room and as far from him as possible. He steps in, moving to the desk, places the nightlight down, turns, and walks out.

  Ready to unload about his brother, I look up to Chase, but I stop when I notice the look in his eye. “What? I know you’re not about to tell me that he wasn’t trying to be a jerk.”

  Chase just shrugs. “Actually, Vel, that’s exactly what I was going to tell you.” He turns his head, looking at the desk where the stupid nightlight is, then turns back to me. “I used to love playing with that light when I was little, but I knew Dylan would kill me if he ever caught me, so I did it when he wasn’t around. Well, one time, he came home early, and you should’ve seen the murderous look in his eyes. He was angry, and just the fact that I still remember that look to this day should tell you how angry he was. Anyway, long story short, after that day, I never saw the light again. And honestly, after all these years, I would’ve thought it was long gone. For him to keep it this long, it’s obviously special to him, and for him to offer it for you to use, says that—”

  I cut Chase off, “It says that he wasn’t being a jerk.” I stand from the bed, walking over to the desk and grab the nightlight. “Chase, I’ll be right back.”

  I head down the large hallway. I’m not sure which one is Dylan’s room, but it’s bound to be one of these. When I reach the end, I notice one of the doors with a light shining from below it. Stopping in front, I can hear the faint sound of a television. I take in a deep breath and knock on the door.

  “It’s open.”

  Assuming that was an invitation for me to enter, I open the door and when I do, I almost wish I hadn’t—almost. I can’t move passed the doorway as my eyes land on the perfectly toned specimen laying before me in nothing but a pair of threadbare boxers, or at least I think they are considering what they’re showing. No wonder the guy has an overly inflated ego. Not only is he beautiful, but he’s also got the body of a gladiator.

  “Can I help you?” he asks in an almost annoyed tone bringing me out of my trance.

  “Uh, um yeah.” I take a step into his room, but not too far as my hormones seem to be on overdrive right now and I can’t be sure to control myself. “I was a little harsh before, but in my defense, I did honestly think you were mocking me. Anyway, Chase told me that this light means a lot to you, so thanks for letting me borrow it.” He doesn’t say anything, his eyes only glued to the TV in front of him. “Okay, well, I’ll go. I just wanted to say thank you.”

  I turn to walk out but stop when he calls out my name, so I turn back to look at him, and he continues, “Why are you scared of the dark?”

  Letting out a breath, I know after the way I went off on him, I owe him something. “I wasn’t always. It’s just been over the past two years since my mother passed away. I don’t know why, it just started one night, and ever since I’ve had to have a least one small light on.”

  Dylan nods in understanding. “Chase’s mom gave me that light when I was little because I was terrified of monsters.” He lets out a little snicker then continues. “She told me that when the monsters saw the light, they knew it was a sign that I was awake and they would just turn and leave. When she left, I kept using it for years hoping it would do the opposite for her, and she’d see it and come back home. Stupid, I know...but I was a kid. I didn’t know the reason she left was that she really couldn’t give two shits about us. That she left because she finally got what she came for in the beginning, my father’s money.” I think I hear a slight tremble in his voice, but he clears his throat. “Anyway, the bitch was gone, never coming back, and I realized the light was useless. Velyn, use the light, or don’t. Either way, I don’t need it back; it’s a kid's light; just throw it out after.”

  The tremble is back. He’s lying. This light means something to him, but I just nod knowing this conversation’s done and without another word, I head back to Chase’s room. When I enter, Chase is well into one of his video games, so I sit down on the bed beside him.

  With Chase’s eyes locked on the screen in front of him, he asks, “Well, you’re still alive, and I don’t hear any sirens; I’m guessing you haven’t maimed my brother, so with that I assume all went well?” I fall back onto the bed, letting out a groan.” Or maybe not,” he finishes.

  “Oh no, they went fine,” I reply—and that there’s the problem.

  Dylan Dandridge just became very real to me, and now I’m in trouble.

  The next morning when I wake up, the sun’s shining and the faint smell of bacon is lingering through the opening of the bedroom door. Funny, I thought I closed that last night after I left Chase in his room playing video games.

  Not wanting to get out of this cloud they call a bed, I unwillingly push the covers off my body. I’m still in my clothes from last night as I hadn’t expected to stay over and didn’t want to interrupt Chase’s groove to ask him for a t-shirt.

  I throw my legs over the side and bring myself to my feet. Looking around, I see an en suite across the room. Perfect.

  After freshening up as best I could, I follow the aromatic trail down the hallway and into the kitchen to where I find Dylan standing over the stove. To my disappointment and also inner confusion as to why I’m disappointed, he’s fully dressed this morning. Gone are the barely-there boxers and sun-kissed pecks, and now replaced with a tight white t-shirt and black ass hugging track pants which still to my delight leave little to the imagination—I never was one for guesswork.

  I’m not an overly religious person, but lord almighty am I in need of a spiritual cleansing right now for these impure thoughts racing through my head.

  Ahem!

  “What—oh, hey!” I let out looking up to see Dylan has turned; his eyes now locked with mine.

  He chuckles. “You looked lost in thought. It was my firm ass, wasn’t it? Gets the ladies every time.”

  “Pfft, yeah, no. Not even. In your dreams. Pfft, firm ass, ha!” My continued babble does noth
ing to convince him.

  “Mmhm, if you say so. Really, Velyn, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. But I’m not the type of man to make any gorgeous woman beg, so here you go...gaze away.” Dylan turns back to the stove, his perfectly rounded gluteus maximus prominently on display.

  However, my sights are quickly diverted to the kitchen entrance as Chase walks in, his usual perky self almost skipping through the kitchen. “What are we gazing at?”

  “Nothing?” I shoot out quickly.

  “My ass,” Dylan corrects. I give him my best death glare, but being Dylan ‘no shits given’ Dandridge, he offers only his prize-winning smug grin.

  “Eww, no thanks. Dylan, stop making Velyn uncomfortable,” Chase scolds.

  Dylan laughs. “Sorry, Velyn. I’ll try not to make you ‘uncomfortable’ from now on when you want to stare at my ass. I know that intense feeling of arousal can be a bitch if you can’t scratch that itch.”

  For the love of—

  Chase throws up his hands. “Seriously, Dylan.”

  Dylan snickers. “All good, I’m done. I’ve just always wanted to say that. Bitch-itch, get it? I’m a genius.”

  I look to Chase as he shrugs and says, “And to think he’s top of his class.”

  Shaking my head playfully, I add, “Ladies and gentlemen, our future leaders of tomorrow.”

  The two of us break out in a fit of laughter at Dylan’s expense. Surprisingly, showing a completely different side than he has these past few weeks, Dylan laughs, looking to me with a smile and saying, “At least we’re all in agreeance that I’m headed for greatness.”

  Okay, well, baby steps are still good.

  Not having to be at work today until the dinner rush, I spent the rest of the morning with Chase, and yes, Dylan. It was nice. But then I came home, and gone was the morning of forgetting all responsibility as I’m quickly swallowed whole by my reality.

  When I open the door to the apartment, I don’t even need to step inside for the wafting stench of alcohol to hit me. It’s so thick that it almost burns my nose.

  Entering, I shut the door quickly behind me; the last thing I need is more judgment from my neighbors, not that any of them should be throwing stones. Dropping my bag on the counter in the kitchen, I then head to the living room expecting to encounter the inevitable; my father passed out on the couch. But when I come in front of where he would usually be found, he’s not there.

  Standing there for a moment, I wonder where he could be. Then sadly, it hits me. I head quickly to the kitchen rummaging through the freezer and pulling out the tin of coffee I placed in the back. Opening it, I sigh in relief when I see the resealable sandwich bag stuffed inside with all my tip money from the past few weeks—it’s all still here.

  I return the money to the tin and shove it back in the freezer, covering it with bags of veggies that I know my father will never touch. When I move back into the living room, I hear something coming from my bedroom.

  I make my way there, stopping just inside the door. I don’t say a word as the disappointment of what I’m seeing opens my eyes to the ultimate low my father’s hit.

  “You’re not going to find any in there.” With my words, my father turns from where he’s rummaging through my dresser.

  “Wh–what—mmmm, what are yo–you doing here?” He’s so drunk his words are muddled and would be barely coherent to anyone but me.

  “I live here.”

  He moves toward me, stopping just inches away. He hasn’t showered in days, and with the smell of whiskey on his breath, it’s making me nauseous. “You’re sup-supposed to be at work.”

  I step around him, moving into my room.

  “Actually, I spent the morning with some school friends. I’m heading into work now for the dinner shift.”

  My father turns to face me with a look I’ve never seen before on his face. One I never thought I’d see from the man I used to put on a pedestal—spite.

  He takes a deep breath obviously to compose himself then steps closer to me. “That’s the problem, Evelyn Rose. We wouldn’t have to live in squalor if you did your part to help out around here. School at this point is not feas-feasible. You have to get your head out of the clouds, Evelyn Rose. It’s time to become an ad-adult.”

  Evelyn Rose. The name he gave me. The name he used to sing in happiness when he wanted to give me praise or just tell me he loved me, that same name now sounds like venom rolling off his tongue.

  “I’m not listening to this, Dad. You’re drunk, and you don’t know what you’re saying.” I’m fighting back the tears, but I don’t know for how much longer.

  He grabs my wrist, his grip tight. “I’m not drunk, and you don’t tell me to listen.” I try to wretch my wrist from his grasp, but he’s holding firm. “My severance check pays for this hole you call a roof over your head and to feed you. You show me some respect.”

  My father’s eyes are burning with anger, but as his glare locks on mine, it hits him, and the fear he sees in my eyes turns his rage to guilt. “Velyn, I’m sorry.”

  I pull from his grip easily this time and head out of my room with my father not far behind. I grab my bag off the counter, but before I go, I turn to him. “I’m going to work, and Daddy, just so that you know, you drank through your severance a year and a half ago.”

  I walk out the door slamming it behind me, but I stop there, resting my back against the wall. No longer able to hold it in, the tears fall and don’t stop.

  Is this it? Is this what the rest of my life promises? Because to be honest, I don’t know how much longer I can hang on.

  Chapter 11

  Dylan

  “When you said you were taking me out for dinner, I thought you meant to eat, not so you could stalk Velyn where she works.”

  I look to my brother as we take a seat in one of the booths near the back. “Two birds, one stone, Chasey.”

  “You know just because you bring me along doesn’t make it any less creepy,” he notes.

  I shrug, nudging him out of the way. “Sit on the other side. This seat has a better view of the counter.”

  Chase groans. “Right-o, bunny boiler.”

  “Huh?” I question. What’s he going on about?

  He shakes his head. “Ugh, never mind, maybe the two of you are made for each other. But I leave you with this; when the owners call the cops because you’re ogling the help, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  “Whatever, it’s fine. We’re just two brothers coming in for a meal. Nothing strange about that,” I assure him.

  “If you say so, but while you stalk, I eat.”

  I look to Chase as he glances over the menu. For a kid the size of a pencil, he sure eats a lot.

  “So, this morning went well, right?” I ask.

  Chase continues to look over the menu but replies, “It did, but don’t get your hopes up, Dylan. Velyn’s not the type of girl to be easily wooed.”

  “Who in the hell said anything about wooing? I just want to take her out for dinner, maybe even a show. You know, get to know her...do it right for once.”

  Chase looks up for a moment. “I don't know whether to be thrown that you have no idea that what you just said is the exact definition of wooing, or that you actually want to take it slow for once.”

  “Whoa there, I said do it right not take it slow—I have needs,” I let out.

  “Nope, I spoke too soon. Never mind, forget I said anything,” Chase sighs, returning to his menu.

  I lean in, lowering my voice. “Seriously, do you think she’d want to take it slow?”

  Chase lets out a heavy breath laying the menu down on the table. “I think your first question should be, would she even be interested in you enough to consider thinking about the pace of a relationship?”

  I lay back in the booth, already knowing the answer to that. “Velyn couldn’t refuse if she tried. I saw the way she was eye-fu—”

  “Don’t even finish that sentence, please,” Chase interrupts. “Look, Dylan,
like I told you before when this obsession with Velyn started; she’s not like all the other girls you’ve dated. She’s in a class of her own. One that you, dear brother, don’t have a hope in hell of being invited into.”

  “So then tell me what I have to do because the word no doesn’t exist in my vocabulary. Everyone has an in, and mine’s finding out what makes her tick. I even have the upper hand—what better resource to have on all things Velyn than her best friend?” I shoot my brother a toothy grin, but the look on his face says he’s not quite warmed up to the idea of being my partner in crime on this one. That’s okay; it’ll only take a little bit of coercion before he breaks—he always does.

  When I look up, I spot Velyn across the diner at another table. She hasn’t seen us yet, but she’s slowly making her way over.

  “Okay, she’ll be over here shortly. Ask her to come over tonight, you know, just to hang out. Maybe if the night’s nice, I can take her out for a ride on my bike, then bam that’s when I’ll make my move—women love the bike.”

  Chase’s face contorts in a way that I’m not sure if he’s confused or constipated. Taking into consideration where we are, I’m going to go with confused.

  “Okay, Fonzie,” he starts.

  “Wait, who?”

  He lets out a breath before continuing. “You know, The Fonz? Aaaaay! Happy days?”

  “Yeah, dude, no,” I reply.

  “You all suck. I seriously need to find new people to hang out with,” Chase mutters.

  “Or you could just try watching shows that have been aired since the invention of the color TV.”

  Chase shakes his head. “Whatever. Look honestly, I think Velyn would be the perfect fit for you. She’s grounded, not materialistic, smart, and has direction. All the values in which you lack.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  Chase stares me down. “I’m serious, Dylan, this could be a great thing for you if you just lose your douchey ways.”

  Okay, he has me there. I can be a little of a douchebag at times; however, it’s never stopped the women from begging at my feet before. But this time, my little brother may be onto something. Maybe the way to get Miss Velyn Adler where I want her is to change things up.

 

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