"I'd rather eat glass," she said.
Randall's mouth dropped into an ugly frown.
"Alright," he said, "no need to be a bitch about it."
I was off the table fast as a shot and in his face.
"Don't call her that," I said.
"Calm down." Randall held his hands up. "It's not like she's your girlfriend."
"No, she's more than that. She's my future."
He scoffed.
"Talk to her like that again and see what happens."
Charlie laid a hand on my back in an effort to calm me down.
"Chase, it's okay," she said. But it wasn't.
Baylor came out of the locker room, took in the situation, and walked to stand at my side.
"What's going on?" he said. "Did somebody die?"
"No," I said, "but they're about to if Randall doesn't back the hell off."
Randall just laughed.
"Your future?" he said, pointing back and forth between me and Charlie. "This girl? Baylor, man, talk to your brother. He can't be that stupid."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Bay said. "But I'd stop now, if I was you."
He didn't stop.
"Chase, I know you're a virgin." Randall gestured to Charlie. "Or maybe you're not anymore. But she is what we call a slut. Fun in the sheets, but not one you keep around. You feel me?"
He grinned from me to Baylor like we were in on the same joke. But it wasn't until he looked at Charlie that I hauled off and punched him. Right in his smug, smiling face. My knuckles were sore after, and Randall's nose was bleeding. Baylor swore, pushed me at Charlie and then pulled Randall, who was groaning, out the door.
"What the hell were you thinking?" Charlie said as she frantically moved around the room.
"He said—"
"Oh, I heard him. Baylor did, too. What I don't get is why you had to react."
I frowned as she came back to me with an icepack.
"You could've injured your arm again, you idiot."
Though her voice was angry, her hands were tender as they pushed the icepack against my knuckles, and she started examining my arm.
"I'm fine," I said.
She huffed, checking my forearm and elbow.
"I just couldn't sit back while he was saying all that stuff about you."
"Slut is a derogatory term meant to keep women in their place," she said. "Men get high-fives when they sleep with someone, but women aren't supposed to like sex or that makes them sluts. It's just a word. It means nothing. You have to learn to let things like that roll off your back."
"Did you have to learn that?" I asked.
Charlie shrugged.
"I'll never let someone talk down to you."
"Some of what he said was true," she said.
"No Charlie, he's full of it."
"I was with his roommate." She defiantly looked me in the eye. "We slept together, more than once. Justin's the reason I don't do repeats. He was a charming, arrogant piece of shit, but I didn't realize that until it was too late."
It looked like she was waiting for me to say something.
"I don't care who you've slept with," I said, but she scoffed.
"Chase, seriously, we've talked about this. You don't lie well, remember?"
I shook my head. "Okay, I do, but what matters to me is that this Justin guy hurt you. That's what I care about. You."
Charlie sighed as she studied my bruised knuckles.
"Have you ever actually punched someone?" she asked.
"No. Why?"
"You're supposed to leave your thumb outside when you make a fist. If you don't, you could break it. I saw it in a movie once."
I captured her hand in mine. "Thanks for the tip."
"Chase…about what you said—"
Dex came running to the door at that moment and poked his head in.
"Hey, I saw Randall's nose," he said. "Blood spewing everywhere. Did I miss a fight?"
"Just a small one," I said.
"Damn." Dex pointed at me. "Well, call me next time if you need backup."
I nodded.
"Oh, and by the way," he said, "Mom says she wants to see you in her office. She looked pissed."
"Thanks," I said on a sigh. Once he was gone, I turned back to Charlie. "What were you saying?"
She released my hand and placed it back in my lap.
"Chase, I don't want to hurt you," she said. "But there's no future between you and me."
"You're wrong. Charlie—"
She shook her head. "The sooner you accept that, the better. Your arm's okay. But I wouldn't go hitting any more of your teammates if I were you."
I'd been about to respond when Archer came in.
"Coach wants to see you," he said.
"I'll be there in a minute," I said.
"Now, Chase."
Charlie gave me a small smile. "Congrats again on the game," she said. "You were amazing."
I didn't know why, but for some reason, her words sounded like goodbye.
CHAPTER 19: Charlie
Two days.
I just had to last two more days, keep Chase at a distance and not let him in any more than I already had. It should be easy. I was a master at pushing guys away. But somehow, O'Brien had gotten closer than any of the others—and we'd only kissed.
That 'only' felt like a lie.
It had been more than that. It had been kissing and spooning and telling him things I definitely shouldn't have. There were starting to be real feelings involved.
And I couldn't allow that.
It wouldn’t end well, for Chase or for me.
I'd successfully avoided him last night by hunkering down in my hotel room. Wasn't that hard. I had a room to myself—thanks to Dr. Meismer and the PT department. It was nice to be able to escape for a while and think.
After game two this morning (which they'd won 10-5; Chase hadn't pitched, resting his arm for game three), I'd been very matter-o-fact, not letting myself stray beyond the basic necessities of the job, ignoring Chase's attempts to talk. He was my patient. I was his physical therapist. Those roles were clearly defined, and for the rest of our time together, I intended to stick to them.
This weekend was going to be a long one. Who knew baseball players sometimes had games on Thursday, Friday, and Saturday? All in a row?
No wonder they were so fit, I thought.
These guys never took a break.
"It's always like this before a conference tournament," June said. "The guys do get breaks—rarely—but not right now. They're all in."
"Didn't know I was signing my weekends away when I agreed to be Chase's PT," I mumbled. "My professor should've made that clear up front."
She gave me a shrug. "You'd still have said yes. You obviously care about him."
I tensed. "Who told you that?"
"No one, " June said. "I can just tell."
Crossing my arms, I studied my nails. "Well, you must be seeing things. I never catch feelings. For anyone. Ever."
June didn't say anything to that.
"Seriously. It's a shame Honor's not here," I added, "or she would back me up."
"She and Emmy were really bummed they couldn't come," she said.
"Yeah well, I'd trade places with them in a heartbeat."
"They're taking exams."
I winced. "Ugh, that's right. I guess there are some things worse than baseball."
"I knew it would grow on you." June shot me a smile. "I mean, how could it not? The Wolves are amazing. You can't help but root for them."
"If you say so," I mumbled.
Although yes, I could see what she meant.
It didn't matter the subject, sports, beauty pageants, life, whatever. I usually cheered for the little guy. Southern University's Wolves would never be considered underdogs. The baseball team had a long history of winning. It should've made me want to see them lose just on principle. But for som
e reason, when I sat in the stands watching them play, I wanted them to come out on top. I wanted Chase to win.
And the only bad part about that was I shouldn't have cared either way.
June and I were currently riding the elevator down to the hotel restaurant to get some food. When she'd suggested it, I'd been starving, so I gladly agreed. It didn't occur to me that the rest of the team would already be down there celebrating their second win. The Wolves took up several tables and booths. Chase was at one of them, sitting in the corner. I locked eyes with him for a moment but quickly looked away.
"Cute place," I said to June.
"Yeah, we stayed here last year. They serve the best chocolate shakes and fries," she said. "You ready to go order?"
Since the register was way-too-close to where Chase sat, I didn't think that was such a good idea.
"Could you do it?" I asked and pointed over my shoulder. "I want to go see what they have on the jukebox. Haven't seen many of those around."
"Okay," June said. "What would you like?"
To not feel burned by Chase O'Brien's gaze.
"Whatever you're having is good," I replied.
"Chicken tenders it is."
My brows furrowed. "Can I get a side salad as well? Ooh, and an order of fries with one of those shakes you mentioned. And extra honey mustard?"
"Sure," June said on a laugh.
As she walked to the counter, I went in the opposite direction, heading toward the jukebox—and away from a certain pitcher. His eyes were still on me. I could feel them. But I didn't look his way. Chase would get over this crush eventually. I just had to make it as easy as possible for him.
I was scrolling through songs, swaying to the music, when I felt someone come up behind me.
"Find anything good?" Chase asked.
I held back a shiver. "Yeah, looks like there's a mix of old and new songs."
"Are you going to make a selection?"
"Already have," I said. "Unfortunately, it only takes change. So…"
I watched as one of the Chase's arms came around to place a quarter in the slot. His other hand ended up on my waist. The heat of his skin seared mine, even through my shirt.
"There," he said. "Now you can play what you want."
I lifted a brow, finally looking at him over my shoulder. "Those were some smooth moves, O'Brien."
"Not smooth enough apparently," he said in a low voice.
I ignored the implication and pushed the numbers for the song I'd been eyeing. It was one about falling in love and the eventual heartbreak that always followed. An appropriate, very much-needed reminder. Love was temporary. It never lasted. It was better to just stay away from it altogether than get hurt.
"Interesting choice," he said.
I gave a shrug, closing my eyes to enjoy the song.
"Thanks," I said. "I'll pay you back for the quarter. You can go now."
I wasn't sure how he'd handle the brush-off. I didn't want to hurt Chase. That was actually the last thing I wanted. But he needed to wake up and stop dreaming. Instead of getting upset or giving up, though, he simply moved closer, slow dancing with me in this gentle yet totally distracting way.
Chase knew how to move.
It shouldn't have surprised me. He was a beast on the baseball field, a helluva good kisser, and a natural at sexy talk. But the dancing was another facet to his personality that I hadn't expected.
"Aren't you bad at anything?" I asked on a sigh.
His lips were pressed close to my ear as he chuckled.
"Of course, I am, Charlie," he said. "Everyone's bad at something."
"I don't believe you. Name one thing you suck at."
"I can't cook."
I rolled my eyes, but he went on.
"I burn toast, cakes, chicken. Even pasta is beyond me."
That made me smile a little.
"I'm also terrible at video games," he said. "My brothers like to make fun of me for that. I'm supposed to have good hand-eye coordination. But I just can't get into gaming."
His hips swayed with mine in time to the music.
"What else?" I asked.
"I can't draw to save my life. Can't sew. Can't read a map."
A scoff left my lips. "Seriously?"
"Yeah, my history teacher in middle school called me directionally-challenged."
"Not so perfect after all," I said.
"Not even close," he murmured. "Another thing I'm not good at…"
His fingers trailed from my hips up to my ribs, and my breath caught.
"I can't heal someone with my hands alone—unlike you."
I forced myself to exhale as his hands moved back down.
"I've got no game outside of baseball."
"Chase," I breathed.
"I'm helpless when it comes to women," he said.
I had to laugh at that. "I think you just proved that's a lie."
Turning me to face him, his stare held mine. One of his hands moved to my wrist, and he raised my palm to his lips. He placed a kiss there that was full of heat and something more. And still we danced.
"Charlie, another thing I'm not good at is denying my feelings. Especially when they're so strong."
Everything in my body went taut as he placed a kiss beneath my ear.
"I'm falling for you," he said quietly.
Chase shook his head a second later.
"Actually no, that's not right. I have fallen. I'm already there. I've just been waiting for you to catch up."
It was my turn to shake my head.
"Chase," I said, "you're confused."
He leaned back then, his face and voice serious as he said, "I've never been more certain of anything in my life."
My heart clenched, but I released a sigh, trying to talk some sense into him.
"We're too different," I said.
"Different can be good," Chase countered.
"It would never work. You'll see that eventually."
"Charlie"—he shook his head—"I want you to be mine. And I want to be yours. It's that simple. Can't we just try?"
His words were achingly sweet. My voice caught in my throat at his earnest expression. And yet...
"Like I said, it wouldn't work. I'm…sorry," I said, meaning it. "Relationships, soulmates, a love that lasts forever? That's not me. I don't believe in that stuff like you do."
He nodded. "I get it."
I wasn't sure he did.
"But that doesn't mean I'm giving up."
Before I could say anything, June came over with our food. She looked between the two of us, no doubt seeing Chase's stubborn expression and my apologetic one. The air was practically crackling with tension. There was no way she could miss it. But awesome girl that she was, she chose not to comment.
"Hey guys," she said then looked to me. "Food's ready, Charlie. You want to find a table and eat?"
I sent her a smile. "I think I'll just take it up to my room."
"Want me to come, too?"
"No, but thanks. I'll probably just eat and then pass out. All those hours in the sun are good for my tan, but they really take it out of you. You know?"
Chase's gaze narrowed, but June nodded. "Yeah, I understand. Hope you get some good rest."
"See you later," I said, waving to both of them as I left.
Once I got back to my room, I found that I wasn't hungry anymore. I didn't know who had seen our stand-off. But some of Chase's teammates probably had. Were they giving him flack about it even now? The way we'd danced, right there in front of everyone, caught up in our own little world, it struck me all of a sudden as very romantic. This was the kind of thing Honor and Rose would salivate over. I should call them. Spill the tea.
For whatever reason, though, I didn't pick up the phone. That moment was intimate. It…meant more than it should.
I sighed.
Where Chase was concerned, that seemed to happen a lot.
Brow furrowed, I went to answer and checked the peephole. My eyes widened at who I saw. After a deep breath, I opened the door.
"Coach O'Brien," I said with a smile. "What brings you here?"
"Hi Charlie," she said. Chase's mom looked perfectly comfortable in her jeans, Southern U t-shirt, and tennis shoes. "I was wondering if we could talk. It'll only take a minute, I promise."
My brows rose. "Sure. You want to come in?"
"Thanks."
As I opened the door wider, she stepped inside, walking until she was in the center of the room. She shot a smile at the empty food containers.
"Best shakes in the state," she said.
"I believe it," I said back. "So…is everything okay?"
The woman nodded, taking a seat in the chair at the desk and gesturing for me to do the same. As I sat across from her, the head coach of the Wolves gave me a penetrating stare.
"I wanted to ask you about Chase," she said, and I exhaled.
She was here to ask about his arm and progress in therapy? This I could handle.
"He's doing amazing in PT," I told her. "Chase's arm is completely mended. It shouldn't give him any problems."
"Glad to hear it," she said. "But that's not what I meant."
I blinked, wondering where this was going.
"Chase is a good guy."
"I know," I said. "You raised him well."
She waved off my compliment. "Yes, but he's not like my other sons—or daughter, for that matter. Chase is a true romantic. He's all heart, always has been. I'm not sure he'd know how to hide his feelings, even if he wanted to. Chase is too honest for that. And as I'm sure you're aware, he's been saving himself for the right girl."
I swallowed hard. "Why are you telling me this?"
"I think you know," she said.
Her shrewd gaze made it impossible to deny.
"I just have one question for you, and then I'll go."
"Okay," I said.
"Is it you?" she asked. "Are you the girl he's been waiting for?"
I shook my head. "I'm sorry, but I'm not."
The Perfect Play (Southern U O'Brien Brothers) Page 17