Love Me Like I Love You

by Willow Winters

  Chase steps closer and a chill runs down my spine, one so deep into my bone I’m unable to hide the shiver. Chase picks up the blanket and wraps it around my shoulders, letting his hands slide down my arms.

  Is it completely crazy that I want to step into him, to rest my head against his chest and listen to his heartbeat? Yes. Yes, it is.

  “Why were you at the bar last night?” he asks quietly, almost as if he already knows the answer and is waiting for me to tell the truth.

  I take in a breath. Last night was a bad night. I went through a maelstrom of emotions last night. It was Jake’s birthday, and I woke up not thinking about it. I made it through breakfast and a shower before it hit me. Guilt took over, and I pulled out old photos of the two of us to look at, reminding me of what we had. I spent the morning crying and was late to work because of it.

  Then regret for not going to the Chainsmokers concert hit, and then I remembered I gave Chase my number and he hadn’t called.

  “I was going to yell at you,” I confess.

  Chase’s eyebrows go up. “At me? Why?”

  “You said you’d call and you never did. Why didn’t you call?”

  His face falls and he looks at the floor for a moment. He opens his mouth, contemplating his words, looking as if he’s about to confess something. Then he shakes his head and looks back into my eyes.

  “I thought about what you said. That you’re not the type of girl I’d want to date. You were right, but you had it the other way around. I’m not the kind of guy you want to date.”

  A beat passes between us, and my heart is hammering away in my chest. He’s making me nervous. Irritated. And a little turned on.

  He’s making me feel.

  “And now I understand how insulting it is to be told who’d you want to date.”

  “Right?” he quips. “I’m sorry. I should have called.”

  “It’s okay.” I pull the blanket tighter around myself and look out the window. Beams of sunlight bounce off the water, and shadows dance along the shore. A deer emerges from the woods to get a drink.

  “She comes almost every morning,” Chase says softly.

  “She’s beautiful.”

  “Yeah,” he agrees, but he’s not looking at the deer. “She is.”

  Not making any sudden movements, we inch to the window to watch the deer. She takes her time getting water and then leaps off into the woods. A few more follow, moving so fast they’re just blurs of fawn amongst shades of green.

  “Do you want to get something for breakfast?” Chase asks. “I’d offer to make you something, but I’m still adjusting to this whole ‘I have to cook for myself’ thing like I told you about.”

  I smile and turn to him, appreciating the full beauty of his stubble-covered face. “Yeah, I’m getting—wait. No. We can’t.”

  “Why?”

  “If we go out for breakfast together, especially with me dressed like this, people will think we slept together.”

  “Is that a bad thing?” He flashes a grin and I struggle to hold onto my resolve.

  I lower my gaze. “People talk.”

  “Then give them something to talk about.”

  I stare at a knot in the hardwood floor under my feet, wondering how many people walked over this in the years this building has been here. People who watched the river with sharp intent, needing the water to remain steady to keep the mill running. “Take me home and I’ll make you breakfast as a thank you for taking care of me. I’m not a master chef or anything, but I’m not terrible either. I do have stuff to make beignets, actually.”

  Chase gives me a blank stare.

  “You’ve never had a beignet?” My voice gets high-pitched from sheer horror.

  “I don’t even know what that is.”

  “Oh, you’re in for a treat then. I won’t tell you what it is either. You’ll have to be surprised.”

  Chase laughs. “It’s some weird southern food, like the fried lobster everyone around here loves, isn’t it?”

  “Crawfish,” I correct. “And if it were, you wouldn’t try it?”

  “Not unless you want to hit me with an EpiPen minutes later.”

  “Oh. You’re allergic to shellfish?”

  “Very.”

  “Good thing you told me. And no, beignets aren’t fish. It’s a dessert-ish food.”

  “Dessert-ish?”

  “Yeah.”

  “That’s not a word.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “I just said it, so it is a word.”

  “I’m pretty sure it’s not.”

  I hike an eyebrow. “It’s not like we’re playing Scrabble here. Dessert-ish is a word and I’m going to use it every chance I get. Just to annoy you.”

  Chase watches me, smile growing. I shake my head, but end up smiling too. He moves away from the window. “You left your purse at the bar.” He picks up my little pink clutch and hands it to me. “One of the waitresses saw you drop it which leads me to believe she got it in time, but check to see if anything is missing.”

  “Shit. I forgot about it.” I take the purse from him and open it. I don’t keep much in my purse, just my wallet, phone, keys, and lip gloss. “It’s all here, thankfully.” I pull my phone out and see the battery is dead. The only person who’d call me overnight would be Lisa anyway.

  Chase opens the fridge, pulls out orange juice, and pours himself a glass. “Want some?”

  “Yeah. Just a little bit though.”

  He pours half a glass and hands it to me. We move to the couch and sit in silence, watching the early morning sun shine down on the river. Minutes pass in silence, but it’s anything but awkward. As if Chase and I have some sort of unspoken understanding between us, sitting next to him is comforting.

  I finish the orange juice and feel sluggish again. I lean back on the couch, eyes growing heavy. Chase rests his back against the cushions too and lets his head fall to the side so he’s looking at me. I inhale and smile, searching his deep eyes for answers about him.

  “Tired?” he asks softly.

  “Yeah. It’s hitting me all at once.”

  “You can go back to sleep. I’ll let you take the blanket.” He gives me his crooked smile again. I thought it was deliberate before because no one has a smile that cocky and sexy without trying. He looks tired too, and I don’t think he’s trying.

  “You only have one blanket?”

  “Yeah. I usually sleep in my bed with it, so it’s never been a problem.”

  “But what if someone stays over?”

  “I’ve never run into that issue before. When attractive women sleep in my bed I’m usually in there with them.”

  I roll my eyes and pull the blanket out from around my shoulders. I cover us both up, and Chase leans in, reaching out and tucking my hair behind my ear. Our eyes lock and I think he’s going to kiss me.

  I want him to, though in the back of my mind I’m well aware that I threw up last night, passed out, and have yet to brush my teeth.

  A knock on the door interrupts us and Chase’s brow furrows. It’s early. No one comes over this early with good news. He springs up and strides to the door. I stand, loosely holding the blanket in my hands.

  Chase opens the door, revealing his brother. My heart lurches in my chest, and I’m sent backward through time and space and it’s like I’m standing in The Book Bag listening to that phone call all over again. Josh has bad news. Terrible news. Someone died. Chase’s sister-in-law lost the babies. His niece was in a horrible accident.

  “Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you,” Josh starts. “The shipment that’s supposed to come at five pm is here at five fucking am. I hate asking but can—” he cuts off, noticing me. Josh looks at me, taking in what I’m wearing, then back at Chase. He raises his eyebrows, tries not to smile, and fails.

  No one is dying. No one is hurt. The only thing that’s wrong is a delivery service not knowing the difference between AM and PM. So why am I teetering on the edge of a panic attack?

  “I
’ll be right down,” Chase tells him. “Let me, uh, get dressed.”

  “Sure. Sorry to interrupt. Morning, Sierra.”

  Chase closes the door and turns, grinning. “So that thing you were saying about people thinking we slept together…” The smile disappears from his face. “Are you okay?”

  In an instant, he’s here, in front of me. I squeeze my eyes shut, pushing back the tears. My hands shake and my stomach flip-flops. Suddenly I can’t breathe and I desperately try to suck in air.

  “Sierra?” Chase whispers and takes my trembling hands in his.

  “Something’s wrong.” My voice comes out breathy and uneven. “I don’t know what. But it is. Really, really wrong.”

  “You’re having a panic attack. Nothing is wrong. It’s okay,” he soothes. moving closer and wrapping his arms around me, gently cradling me to his chest.

  His skin is warm. Comforting. I don’t want to move, but a few of the broken pieces of my heart scream for me to shove him away. I shouldn’t find solace in another man’s embrace.

  Not yet.

  Not now.

  Not ever.

  He slides his hands down my back and pulls me closer, holding me still for a minute before reaching up with one hand and stroking my hair. I’m still shaking, heart still racing. Still struggling to breathe.

  Chase shuffles us back to the couch. My feet get caught in the blanket that’s loosely hanging from my left hand, and I start to fall. He catches me, sitting heavily on the couch and pulling me with him.

  “Hey,” he whispers. “It’s okay. Take a deep breath.”

  “I…I can’t.”

  He puts his hand to my chest, fingers gently touching my collarbone. “Inhale,” he instructs.

  I take in a deep breath and my breasts rise, pushing against the palm of his hand. I know what the touch is doing to him and he fights against the struggle so he can help me.

  “Hold it. One…two…three. Now slowly exhale.”

  My eyes close as I let out my breath, and he has me repeat the process three more times. He pulls me into his lap and wraps the blanket around my shoulders. I close my eyes again, fighting against everything inside of me that wants to be close to him. I’m still shaking, still feeling like the world is closing in around me and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. Chase holds me, not saying a word until my trembling stops.

  I let out a sigh and feel embarrassed. I’ve never been a shy person, but I’ve never dealt with anxiety well and having people see me freak out is the last thing I want.

  “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be,” Chase whispers. “Are you okay?”

  “I am now. Thank you. Again. You must think I’m a total basket case.”

  “I think the opposite.”

  I let out a nervous laugh. “Between being unable to get that guy to leave me alone at the bar, drinking too much, and then this, you can’t be thinking I’m a winner or anything.”

  “Panic attacks aren’t anything to be embarrassed about.”

  I shake my head, agreeing with him yet not believing him. Because I am embarrassed, and my life has been one mess after another. “You seem to be familiar with them.”

  “They’re not all that uncommon in my previous line of work.”

  “What did you used to do?”

  “That’s a story for another day.”

  I lift my head off his chest and stare at him.

  “What?” he asks.

  “Nothing. Just trying to decide if you’re full of shit or not.”

  He holds my gaze for a few seconds, and his eyes darken. “I kinda wish I was.”

  I tip my head and study him, but as hard as I try, I can’t figure this man out. I’m not the best at reading people, but I can usually tell when I’m flat-out being lied to.

  Chase isn’t lying.

  I rest my head on his chest again, eyelids feeling heavy. Chase folds his arms around me again and lets his head fall against mine. Maybe I’m more dehydrated than I thought or suffering from exhaustion, but laying here with Chase feels right. I forgot how good it feels to be wrapped in someone’s arms.

  Someone else’s arms.

  “Your brother is probably wondering where you are.”

  “Yeah,” he mumbles and then gives me a cheeky grin. “He probably thinks we’re having a quickie before I go down.”

  “He probably does. Like really, he’s down there rolling his eyes and checking his watch.”

  Chase laughs. “I’ll make sure to tell him you overdid it on tequila and the puke in the yard is yours.”

  “Thanks,” I say flatly. “But really…thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.” He brings his hand down my arm, stopping when his thumb rests on the pulse-point of my wrist. My eyes shut again and I yawn. “You can take the bed and go back to sleep if you want.”

  “I should go home and shower then try to get a few hours of sleep before work.”

  “Ouch. When do you go in?”

  “Ten-thirty, so it’s not too bad. We open at eleven on Fridays. So I guess we’ll take a rain-check for breakfast.”

  “Deal. Just to be sure, does that include you spending the night again? Because if it does, I have a different idea on how to pass the time.”

  “No.”

  “You mean not yet.”

  I just shake my head and sit up. Pulling myself away from Chase is harder than I expected, and once the heat of his skin is away from mine, I shiver.

  “Drink a lot of water,” he says and steps away, picking his jeans up from the floor. “It’ll help with the hangover.” He gets dressed and I’m not sure if I should look away or not, which doesn’t make sense since I’d been looking at him in only boxers all morning. But there’s something intimate about getting dressed like this because it implies we’re comfortable enough around each other to get undressed.

  He turns to get his shirt and I see yet another scar on his back. It’s small, but I can tell the wound was deep. My first thought is that someone stabbed him in the back—literally.

  “I’ll walk you out,” he offers and pulls his T-shirt over his head. I grab my clothes, step into my shoes, and pull my keys from my purse. “Thanks again,” I tell Chase when we near my car, which surprisingly isn’t the only one left in the lot.

  “You don’t have to thank me, Sierra.”

  “I want to.”

  “I’m glad you do.” He tips his head down, blocking out the early morning sun. “I’ll call you. For real this time.”

  Chapter 10

  Chase

  “You move fast.”

  “Is that supposed to be a compliment?” I ask my brother. We just finished unloading the truck that showed up twelve hours early and are sitting in the bar having a drink.

  “It’s an observation. You just got Sierra’s number and you already slept with her.”

  “Actually,” I start and pull the tab off my Coke can. “I didn’t.”

  Josh looks across the bar top at me, waiting for me to explain.

  “She drank too much and needed a place to crash. That’s all.”

  “Oh.”

  “You look disappointed,” I say.

  Josh shrugs. “Nah. Just, uh, surprised.”

  I set the Coke down and cross my arms. “You’re a terrible liar, you know.”

  Josh sighs. “I might have hoped that if you got involved with Sierra it would make you want to stay here.”

  “I am here.”

  Now it’s Josh’s turn to stare at me incredulously. “For now. Come on…we both know you don’t stay in a place too long. It’s been hard trying to keep in contact with you because I never know where you are, what you’re doing, or if you’ve been arrested…or worse. I know I can’t convince you to change professions, but maybe a woman can.”

  My go-to response to a statement like that is to get offended, defend myself, and probably say something shitty. Josh is my brother and probably the only person in the fucking world who actually gives a shit about me. So I
bite my tongue.

  “You know I don’t believe that nothing happened,” Josh goes on. “You take a girl home and nothing happens…” He arches his eyebrows and shakes his head. “You two looked pretty cozy this morning.”

  “I am serious,” I say with a laugh. “She was pretty far gone, so I took her upstairs to lay down with the intention of taking her home later. She passed out until this morning.”

  “So noble.”

  “Shut up.”

  Josh snickers. “You like her.”

  “She’s all right.”

  “Just all right. Sure.”

  “She’s hot,” I admit and press the sides in on my can. “I’d fuck her if I had the chance.”

  Josh raises an eyebrow. “Didn’t you have the chance last night?”

  I did have the chance and it would have been easy to put the moves on Sierra and have her begging for more. But I didn’t. And it didn’t even cross my mind.

  “She was wasted.”

  “You do like her.”

  “Not like that.”

  Josh’s face turns serious. “Why would liking someone ‘like that’ be a bad thing?”

  I take a drink, buying myself a few extra seconds. I don’t get emotionally involved because I don’t want another human being to impact my happiness. Giving a person that kind of control is the dumbest thing we can do. I don’t depend on anyone. Never have. Never will.

  “Like you said before, we’re different people.”

  Smarter than he lets on, Josh just nods, not buying it for a second. “Thanks again for helping this morning.” He finishes his drink and gets up, stretching his arms above his head. “I need to get home to watch Dakota before Melissa has to leave for work. See you tonight.”

  Once Josh leaves, I go upstairs and crash in my bed. Sierra’s sweet floral perfume clings to the sheets, and the scent calms me and turns me on at the same time. I toss and turn for half an hour before giving up. I grab my phone and go right to the voicemail.

  I stare at the unheard messages, heart lurching at the thought of hearing her voice again. I should have told her. Confessed it all and gotten it over with. She might not have wanted to see me again, and I didn’t want to risk that. Because I do have feelings for Sierra.