Chasing Midnight

by Sandra Damien

  I was spooning salsa into a bowl when Chase sidled up next to me, two midnight margaritas, the signature cocktail for the party, in hand. He passed me one glass and nudged my shoulder.

  “Why are you hiding out in here? I wanted to introduce you to some people.” He looked particularly irresistible after a few drinks, dark eyes glittering in the low light.

  “I’m not hiding. I just…” I was totally hiding. For years I’d dreamed of seeing Chase again. And now he was here, all loose and relaxed and handsome, and all of a sudden my body was in shutdown mode. Where was the override? If that could kick into gear right around now, that would be great.

  “Maybe just avoiding me?” He took a sip and watched me over the rim of his glass.

  “I’m not, I swear.” House of lieees. “I’ve just been busy making sure we have enough food. Do you think we need dessert?”

  He chuckled, letting his interrogation rest—for now. “I think we’re good on dessert. Everyone’s starting to get a little rowdy.” He glanced over his shoulder and then turned back with a smile. “Hey, thanks again for taking care of all of this. This party would have folded completely if you weren’t here.”

  “Amazing what you can come up with when you’re under pressure, right?” I took a sip of the deep blue cocktail, the alcohol sending pleasant warmth zinging through my body. I resisted the urge to shimmy. “God, these are fucking amazing. And potent.”

  “I’ve been sending over doubles. You look like you need it.”

  I cringed. “That obvious, huh?”

  “Honestly, I’m right there with you.”

  “Aren’t these all your friends, though?”

  He shrugged. “Despite appearances, this is really not my scene. But it keeps everyone happy. Or maybe it’s the free booze.”

  I took another sip, enjoying the sweet, earthy flavor of the blueberry syrup, then set the glass aside. “So that’s why you’re hiding out, then?”

  “Who says I’m hiding?” He picked up a spring roll from the platter of frozen appetizers I’d baked up and dipped it in the plum sauce, then took a huge bite. He immediately began fanning his mouth. “Hot,” he said around a mouthful, before he chewed and swallowed. “So good, though. These taste just like the ones from Happy Dragon.”

  “Except these are $3.99 for a whole box and aren’t limp on delivery.”

  He choked on his bite, and I slapped him on the back a few times—mostly for an excuse to see if he still had those firm back muscles I loved to ogle back in high school when he ran drills during football practice.

  Ungh. He did.

  “You know they added pizza to their menu now? Sweet and sour chicken thin crust is the flavor sensation you never knew you were missing out on.”

  “Weirdly, I kind of want to try that.” He gave a final cough to clear his throat, then chased it with a hard gulp of his drink. “Might be worth the trip back to Derring just for that.”

  “It is, trust me.” I fiddled with the straw in my drink. “You think you’ll ever come back?”

  He wiped his mouth with a cocktail napkin as he took his time answering. “I’m not sure. It’s still got a lot of bad memories for me, you know?”

  I nodded, remembering. His parents’ breakup had messy and spiteful, and he’d spent the last of his high school years throwing himself into sports and hanging at our place. His parents had since left Derring, but Chase hadn’t been back once. I felt his absence every time Cole came home alone.

  “You think you’ll ever leave?” he countered.

  I picked up a pair of tongs and busied myself with rearranging the food on the platter. “I don’t know. My whole life is there, but if I want a career, Derring’s not the place for me. I’m just not ready to leave it behind for good.”

  “You can still visit. It’s not going anywhere.”

  “True, I suppose. I just can’t imagine anywhere else feeling like home.”

  “Home’s wherever you make it, Landon,” he said softly. “Home’s wherever you are.”

  All the noises of the party seemed to fade away as Chase and I stared at each other across the kitchen. For a moment it was just us again, side by side on the living room couch pouring our souls out to each other, two lost boys trying desperately to be understood.

  Someone jostled me from behind, breaking me from my trance, and I cleared my throat. “I ordered a couple of pizzas to arrive around ten. It’s not fancy, but…”

  “It’s perfect.” He held my gaze. “Thank you. For all of this. I know I already said it, but I don’t know what I would have done if you weren’t here.”

  “Oh, you would have managed.” I bumped his hip with mine, another excuse to touch. The alcohol for sure had something to do with my brazenness. I was definitely going to need a few more. “And you’re welcome.”

  Chase took a step closer and brought his hand down onto my shoulder. “Hey, listen—”

  “Chase, there’s been some development on the Chatterz takeover.” Our heads swiveled simultaneously when a guy in thick but stylish glasses leaned over the counter, shouting to be heard over the music and conversation. His eyes flicked over me briefly. Chase took a subtle step back, but it felt like a chasm between us. I smoothed my hand over my T-shirt self-consciously.

  “You’re new,” glasses guy said. He stretched out his hand, and I shook it, cutting a look back to Chase, who looked even more uncomfortable than I felt.

  “This is Jered. He’s a software developer in my team. Jered, this is Landon Rennie, one of my oldest friends.”

  “Oh yeah? Don’t see too many people from Chase’s ‘mysterious past.’ Where did y’all meet?” Jered came around the island, trying to play it casual, but it was apparent to everyone present that he was staking his claim with the way he slid up next to Chase and pressed his arm against him. I was pleased when Chase took a step away from Jered too.

  “We’re from the same hometown,” I replied, unsure how much of Chase’s personal life he felt comfortable sharing, at the same time he said, “We grew up together.”

  I grinned. “Practically brothers, right?”

  “Pretty sure you’re not supposed to find your brother hot, though.” Chase winked as he said it, and it sent a band of merry butterflies ricocheting off my stomach lining. This was new territory. This was… I didn’t know what to do with this. Was that just a throwaway comment? He’d always been parked firmly in the straight camp as far as I was aware, but now I had more questions than answers and I was sure I was overanalyzing something that probably meant nothing, and oh god, the silence was getting awkward—

  I stood there cheesing, all teeth and weirdness, while Jered pressed his lips together.

  “Interesting,” he said in tone that suggested he was anything but interested. “Anyway, Chase, I just got an email from the devs at Chatterz and they’re good to go with the meetings next week. Should I rustle us up a room in Seattle?”

  Chase bristled. “Two rooms. I’ll have Deanna work out the details on Monday and send you an email.”

  “You sure? Won’t take me a minute to jump on Priceli—”

  “Deanna’s got it.”

  Jered’s eyes flickered to me again, narrowing slightly as if he was trying to work out what the deal was between me and Chase. Gah. I was so uninterested in this display of testosterone and possessiveness. I wanted to find another corner to hide in and mull over what Chase had said, imprint it on my brain to replay over and over.

  “I’ll leave you guys to it,” I said, picking up my glass to get a refill. “I’d better go find my brother. Nice to meet you, Jered.”

  “Pleasure.” The look he cut me suggested otherwise.

  I smiled tightly, avoiding Chase’s imploring eyes, and left the kitchen in search of Cole. An odd giddiness churned in the pit of my stomach, and I stuffed a couple of brie and puff pastry bites in my mouth, which did absolutely nothing to tame the butterflies.

  I was a ball of nervous energy, and the apartment suddenly felt too s
mall, too packed with bodies and noise. Cole was at the bar doing shots—clearly not his first. He waved me over when he saw me coming toward him and jiggled the empty shot glass. I nodded, and he raised two fingers to the bartender to order a couple more.

  “Where’ve you been all night?” he asked, swiping the back of his hand over his mouth. His eyes were a little unfocused.

  “I could ask you the same question.” He passed me a shot and we clinked glasses, then knocked them back. I winced as the tequila went down, nasty after the delicious midnight margaritas, and leaned an arm on the bar top. “I thought techie guys usually wore Pokémon T-shirts and stained sweatpants, not Ralph Lauren. I’m so out of my league here.”

  He laughed. “They’re not so bad. Seriously. Try having a conversation—hey, maybe you’ll meet someone.”

  “Oh yeah. I’m sure Chase would just love it if I hooked up with one of his friends.” I rolled my eyes.

  “Why would he care?”

  Chase’s words from earlier repeated in my mind with a full marching band: Pretty sure you’re not supposed to find your brother hot, though.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. They’re his coworkers and stuff. It’d be weird, right?”

  “Nah, he’d be cool with it, I’m sure. It’d give you an excuse to come to the city more too.” He slapped my chest with the back of his hand. “There’s a guy in his team who’s gay and single. Jake or Jeremy, I think his name is.”

  “Jered,” I said, my lips puckering around the name. “Yeah, we’ve met. Not my type.”

  And he needed to back the hell off from Chase too. I was knocked sideways from sudden burst of jealousy. I thought I’d done so well purging him from my mind—it couldn’t be healthy lusting over someone for so long, when there was zero chance of that lust being reciprocated—but seeing him again made all those old feelings slam to the forefront.

  “It’s hot in here. I’m gonna step outside and get some air. Are you going to be okay to drive later?”

  Cole waved me off, already turning back to the bar. “We’ll get an Uber, don’t worry about it. Make sure you come in before the countdown.”

  “Be back in a minute.”

  I made for the balcony and poked my head out the sliding glass door, relishing the cool, icy freshness. It was freezing, but the worst of the storm seemed to have died down, gentle wisps of snow drifting prettily over the cityscape. I inhaled deeply, my mind a jumble of images of Chase then and now. Seeing him again after so many years was doing a number on my emotional well-being. I hadn’t realized how much my high school crush had affected me—and apparently still did.

  Because it appeared that crush was back with a vengeance. But this time felt worse than the tragic end-of-the-worldness of a teenager’s unrequited love. This time I was older and knew exactly what I wanted.

  And apparently it was still Chase Porter.

  “Now I know for sure you’re avoiding me.”

  My stomach flipped at the sound of his voice, and I pressed my lips together, neither confirming nor denying. “Just needed a little air. It was getting stuffy in there.”

  Chase slid the door closed behind him, muffling the grating pop music from inside. “Maybe we did need that patio heater after all.”

  I leaned back against the railing, the metal biting on my bare hands. “It’s kind of nice,” I said. “I never minded the cold.”

  He came to stand beside me, and we looked out over the city together, not talking, just reliving being in each other’s company again. I was surprised to find it as comfortable as it used to be, despite my racing heart at being so close to him.

  “I miss talking to you, Landon,” he said quietly after some minutes passed.

  I turned to him, surprised. I mulled over my next words carefully, but it still came out as an accusation: “You could have called anytime.” I shook my head. “That came out wrong. I know why you didn’t come back, but you didn’t need to cut me out.”

  He leaned his hands on the railing and pressed back, exhaling. “You’re right. And I wish I had a better excuse for that.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I’m over it. Really.”

  It suddenly felt just as difficult to breathe out here as it did inside. I tried to step around him to put some distance between us, but Chase stood upright again and blocked my retreat.

  “It matters.” He lifted his hand and then seemed to change his mind and dropped it by his side. “It matters to me.”

  “It’s all water under the bridge now.”

  He took another step closer, and I backed into the corner, my feet prickling at being pressed against the glass balcony railing, twenty stories in the sky. Or at least that’s what I told myself—that it had nothing to do with Chase being so close I could kiss him, that his smell, sharper in the crisp air, his knowing gaze that penetrated my soul, the overwhelming presence of him wasn’t muddling my brain and making my bitterness turn to panic.

  “You told me not to go.’” He was so close now, his fogged puffs of air ghosted over my face. “What did you mean by that, Landon?”

  “All I meant was you should reconsider leaving Derring,” I mumbled lamely, my teeth starting to chatter. The lie was so tangible, it was like there was another entity standing out there on the balcony with us.

  “I don’t think you really believe that either,” he said softly, his gaze dancing over my face, leaving tingles in its wake as if he’d reached out and touched me.

  “You were going to college. I was dumb and needy, jealous my brother was leaving.” I spoke quickly, my voice high and reedy, nerves getting the best of me. For years after Chase had left, I’d imagined what I would say to him if I could ever confront him again, but all those carefully rehearsed rants flew off into the night faced with his sad eyes begging for forgiveness. “I was just saying goodbye in my weird emo way. You know how I was back then.”

  His lips turned up in a sardonic smile. “You were always a terrible liar.”

  I tried to swallow, but it only served to make me choke on my own tongue.

  “I should check on the chip bowls.”

  “The chip bowls can wait. Landon…” His serious features softened, and he cupped my face in his hand and leaned toward me. Holy holy holy holy holy—

  “I gotta go!” I blurted, panic seizing any instincts to close the gap and fulfill the fantasy I’d harbored since the beginning of time, or what felt like it. I shouldered past him and wrenched open the sliding door, a blast of overheated air hitting me in the face and making my head spin. I hadn’t had much to drink, but I lurched forward as if drunk, my stomach roiling.

  Holy shit, Chase had been about to kiss me. Never mind the fact I had no fucking idea he was gay or bi or pan or whatever the fuck. Chase Porter, the guy who could tell me to jump and I’d say how high, was trying to kiss me, president of his goddamn fan club.

  I needed to process. I needed out of here and to lie in quiet solitude to go over every single detail of the evening and figure out how to proceed. I couldn’t see Cole past all the bodies, but fuck it. I’d send him a message once I was in an Uber.

  “Ten!”

  Oh god, the countdown. Blood roared in my ears as I slipped through the crowd and around tables. It felt like the number of people packed into the apartment had multiplied, and trying to get to the exit was like running through deep water.

  “Eight!”

  I whipped my head over my shoulder, and my eyes connected with Chase’s across the room as he disentangled himself from a drunk and laughing Jered, who had accosted him as he tried to follow after me.

  “Five!”

  I squeezed my way through to the other side of the apartment in search of my coat. I’d made it almost to the guest bedroom when a hand wrapped around my wrist and tugged, and next thing I knew, Chase was pulling me with determination down the hall, the sea of bodies who couldn’t wait till midnight for their New Year’s kisses parting for him as if he were the Moses of the party scene. Before I could open my mou
th to protest, he had me pinned against the wall at the end of the hallway, in the shadows where no one could see us. Chase looked down at me and brought his thumb up to stroke over my lower lip.

  “Wh-what are you doing?”

  “You once told me not to go; now it’s my turn to ask the same. Don’t go, Landon,” he murmured, his warm breath ghosting over my face. I let out a shaky breath as the crowd screamed “One!” and he pressed his mouth against mine.

  4

  I could barely hear the pop of the champagne corks over the ringing in my ears as the blood rushed from my head to my groin. The only thing I could focus on was the feel of Chase’s soft lips and the scratch of his five-o’clock shadow, the faint hint of tequila and blueberries on his tongue as it caressed my own. I whimpered into his mouth, clutching his shirt tightly as if he were an apparition, a figment of my imagination conjured by years of infatuation. The sound only seemed to spur him on; he kissed me deeply, hungrily, as if he’d been waiting for this as long as I had.

  This couldn’t be real. I cracked an eye open and peeked through my eyelashes just to make sure.

  And the desperation written on his face just about cracked my heart wide open.

  We made out like we were breathing life into each other to the drunken crooning of “Auld Lang Syne,” our hands exploring, touching, learning. Our cocks rubbed over each other, hard, painful, desperate for more.

  “Bedroom,” he rumbled, and with our fingers linked, he walked backward, his eyes locked on mine with a hunger I’d never seen before—or ever expected to be on the receiving end of—leading me down the hallway, around the corner, and down the stairs to his private sanctuary. There was no door to his room, but the sounds of the party upstairs were muted, fading into the background as we stood a foot apart, still holding hands. The only thing I could focus on was my own heavy breathing and the intensity in Chase’s eyes as he took in every inch of me, really took me in, like he was seeing me for the first time. Finally, he pulled me against his chest, burying his fingers in my hair, his lips at my temple.