The Backup Plan

by Jen McLaughlin

  “No.” I tilted her face back so she looked up at me fully. “Just to the ones that matter.”

  Her cheeks flushed, she licked her lips. She was so hot and sexy, and she didn’t even know it. It seemed like that should be a crime or something. “How many have mattered?”

  I hesitated. Should I be honest? Should I give her that power? I really didn’t know. “Just you.”

  “Chase…” Her eyes drifted shut, and she curled her fingers into my shirt. “Kiss me.”

  I studied her without speaking. The way her long eyelashes shadowed her cheeks. Her plump, pink lips, waiting to be kissed by me. Waiting and ready. I wanted to. I really did. But she’d told me she wasn’t the type of girl to fuck a guy on the first date, and if I kissed her again, something told me that it would lead to more. I rubbed the back of my neck and forced a smile. “I think we should call it a night.”

  She opened her eyes, looking shocked. “Wh-What?”

  “I want to kiss you. Believe me, I do.” I tucked her hair behind her ear. “But I don’t want to rush you into something you’re not ready for. If I kiss you again, I might not want to stop.”

  She licked her lips. “But what if you could?” She toyed with the collar of my shirt, her cheeks pinking. “Or…what if I didn’t want you to?”

  “I want to take it slow. Do this right.”

  A smile played at her lips. “Really?”

  “Really.” I touched her cheek, then leaned down to kiss her forehead. It was the most daring I trusted myself to get. “Good night, Taylor.”

  “Good night,” she breathed.

  After one last longing look, she turned on her heel, opened my door, and left me alone. I sagged against the wall, taking a deep breath. Letting her go had been hard, but if we kept flirting with a relationship while taking our time to do it right, then the best was yet to come.

  Chapter Nine

  Taylor

  It had been three weeks since Chase and I went on our date, and those three weeks? Yeah. They had been pretty much the best ones of my entire life. He’d been at my side, holding my hand, being the perfect guy every step of the way. Not pressuring me for more than I was willing to give, and refusing to let me change my mind too fast. If I sneezed, he was there with a tissue. If I yawned, he ended our studying session and sent me off to my bed with a kiss. Everything I needed, he was there.

  The whole thing was…surreal. Part of me was sure it was all an act, and the other part waited for something to ruin it all. I mean, just a few weeks ago, he’d been barely speaking to me, hardly tolerating me, but now he was acting as if the sun rose and fell on my shoulders alone?

  How could this be real? How could it be true?

  Yet, every morning I woke up, and it wasn’t a dream. And every night he was either at my side, kissing me sweetly, sending me good night messages, or Snapchats with silly filters that said he wished I was with him. Truth was, when I wasn’t with him, I wished I was, too. But for him to truly heal, he had to have a life outside of me. And I needed one outside of him.

  When this whole thing blew up in our faces—and inevitably, it would—then I needed to have something else to fall back on when he walked away.

  I couldn’t be alone.

  A set of girls walked by me, whispering to one another as we passed Shrine Tower. I nodded at them, and they glanced away quickly, pretending not to see. Ever since we hooked up, the campus had been abuzz with the news that the “freak” had moved on, and people had started treating me like a freak, too.

  That upset Chase, since he was convinced he was dragging me into the depths of societal hell with him, but to be honest? I didn’t friggin’ care.

  If they hated me, then they hated me. If they whispered about what Chase and I did behind closed doors to make themselves feel better about their own lives, then whatever. All that mattered were Chase’s changes. He was coming out of his shell and showing me affection in public instead of melting into the crowd.

  Everyone else could go to hell.

  I’d come here to do a job, to fix Chase Maxwell, and by God, I was doing it. Little by little, that charming version of Chase was coming out, and he was laughing, smiling, and—even better?—making me laugh, too.

  My phone buzzed, and I glanced down, smiling when I saw it was a picture of me from behind. The caption read Hot Damn, but I barely saw that.

  God, my hair looked frizzy today.

  Too much rolling around in Chase’s bed last night, I guess. We’d had a hot and heavy make-out session, but when I’d started to unbutton his shirt, he’d jumped off me, running his hands down his face, and told me he was tired. He wasn’t tired.

  I just had to make him see that it was time to move forward.

  Smoothing my unruly hair, I spun, smiling, and waited for him to catch up to me. He wore a plaid button-up shirt, undone, with a Villanova shirt underneath it. He’d paired it with blue jeans, Air Jordan’s, and a pair of sunglasses. His brown hair stuck up slightly, and he was smiling.

  Gorgeous.

  As he approached, I smoothed my hair one more time. “Hey.”

  “Hey, yourself.” He wrapped his arms around me, kissing me briefly in greeting. “Sleep good last night?”

  “Not as well as I would have in your room,” I teased, resting my hands on his chest. It was hard, and warm, and mine.

  “Now that’s a lie,” he mumbled, rubbing his nose against my ear. “I would have kept you up kissing every inch of that sexy body of—”

  “Chase,” I hissed, smacking his chest with hot cheeks. I glanced around, and sure enough, all eyes were on us.

  He lifted a brow. God, he looked hot like that. All cocky and sure of himself. It was a hint of the old Chase peeking through, and I clung to it like it was my last lifeline. “And the problem with that is…?”

  “That they don’t get to know what we do in your bed.”

  He looked over my shoulder, winking at someone. “Oh, they already know, Tay.”

  I couldn’t believe it. He actually winked. I looked behind me to see who at, and figured it out quickly. The blushing blond. Without warning, jealousy kicked me in my stomach. “Why did you wink at her?”

  “Uh…?” He frowned. “Because she was staring at me.”

  “Did you have sex with her?”

  That frown of his turned into a laugh. “Tay.”

  I hated that I asked that, but I mean, he’d bragged about all the girls he’d slept with and forgotten, and now that I was his girl…nothing terrified me more than becoming one of them.

  One of the forgotten.

  There was the slight issue that, no matter how many times I threw myself at him, he refused to touch me more than above the clothes. It was out of respect for me, I got that, but at what point did he stop respecting my chastity, and start giving me what I wanted—him? “Can you not remember?”

  He rested his hands on my shoulders gently. “I didn’t fuck her.”

  “Are you sure?” I shot back. “I mean, there’s been so many…present company excluded, of course.”

  “I made that up,” he muttered, his cheeks coloring.

  “What?”

  “I didn’t fuck so many girls I lost count.” He locked eyes with me. “I know my number, and it’s not nearly so high that I forgot it. I remember everyone.”

  I bit my lip, hesitating. “Why did you lie?”

  “I was trying to scare you off because I knew if I let you close, I’d change.” He twisted his lips. “I was right. I am changing.”

  I touched his cheek. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be.”

  “Speaking of changes…”

  He groaned. “What now?”

  “Nothing big,” I said, smiling at his tone. “I was just wondering if you’re all set for your appointment tonight?”

  I’d been on his case about going to see a physical therapist, and it had finally paid off. He had his first appointment tonight, and I couldn’t be more excited for him.

&
nbsp; “I am,” he said, throwing his arm over my shoulders and pulling me close as we made our way to our first class. “I really don’t know what good it’ll do, though. I messed up my shoulder, and there’s no changing that. If I can’t throw with accuracy, then I can’t be a quarterback in the NFL or here at Villanova, plain and simple.”

  “But you can try to fix it, or at least see if it’s possible.”

  He rolled his eyes. “So you keep saying.”

  “Don’t be so negative. You never know—”

  He kissed me into silence, his mouth lingering over mine as he pulled back. “Your optimism is adorable and in most cases, I like it. But in this one, I need to expect nothing, so when the doctor tells me he can do nothing, I’m not let down.”

  I hesitated, torn between my desire to argue with him and my respect for his wishes and not sure how to respond. So I said nothing. It seemed to be enough.

  “Besides, the team here would never welcome me back. Not after what happened with Joey,” he muttered.

  “That’s a future Chase problem. Today, you just need to go to the doc.” I clung to his arm, frowning at a group of girls who watched us like we were freaks. “If you get a chance to get back on that team, you deal with the haters after securing your spot. Don’t let anything or anyone stop you from going after what you want.”

  “You know…” He smiled. “You should be a cheerleader.”

  I snorted. “I’ll pass, thanks. I’m not the rah-rah type.”

  “I beg to differ. Your ass would look spectacular in those little skirts they wear.”

  We reached the door to the building, and he opened it for me. I smiled and walked in, knowing he was staring at my butt and not minding one little bit. “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome,” he murmured, his voice dropping a few notches.

  That did things to me, like heating up the room and making my heart skip a beat. “Do you want me to come?”

  Smirking, he said, “Right here?”

  As if. I’d been trying to get further than second base all week, and was no closer to seeing what he looked like without any clothes on—but that wasn’t what I meant. Still, the fact that he was joking around with me like this instead of being a stick in the mud was incredible. Like I said, lots of changes, all of them good. “You know what I mean.”

  “Yep.” He held the door open for a girl behind us. She didn’t even thank him, just pushed by him with a scornful glare.

  “You’re welcome!” I called after her.

  She glared at me over her shoulder, which had a Prada bag draped over it.

  I flipped her off. “Bitch.”

  “I can’t take you anywhere,” Chase said, chuckling as he entwined his fingers with mine. He always found it amusing when I called someone out for being an asshole to him, and to be honest, it seemed to bother me more than him. I guess he was used to it. “You can’t fight them all, babe.”

  “Oh yeah? Watch me.”

  The sun shone in through the windows, reflecting off the crystal container on Professor Forte’s desk that held her precious fountain pens. When she lectured, she always took one out, carrying it and slapping it on her palm for emphasis and sometimes chewing on it when we didn’t give her the answer she wanted.

  As we walked, someone stepped into our path, and I tensed when I realized who it was. It was the douche who stood me up on our date all those weeks ago. I remembered his name, but refused to use it. He didn’t deserve a name in my story.

  “Taylor, hey.” He glanced at Chase nervously, swallowed, and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Hi, Chase.”

  I glanced at Chase. When he remained silent, I squeezed his hand. Hard.

  He jerked, frowned at me, then muttered, “Hi.”

  Douche looked surprised. “Uh, hi.”

  “You already said that,” Chase pointed out drily, that cocky brown brow inching up again.

  “Uh, right. Of course.” Clearing his throat, he focused on me again. “Look, I wanted to apologize for the other week, when I didn’t show up for our date. Something came up that I couldn’t get out of.”

  “Mary’s skirt?”

  The other guy blinked. “What?”

  “Nothing,” I said quickly.

  Chase shifted on his feet. He tried to slide his hand out of mine, more than likely to slink away to his seat. I tightened my grip on him, refusing to let go.

  “I really am sorry,” the guy said, turning his attention back toward me.

  “I really don’t care,” I said, smiling sweetly.

  Douche flushed. “I know you’re upset, but—”

  “I’m not upset,” I interrupted. “I really just don’t care.”

  “Look, I’m trying to make it up to you—”

  “Don’t bother,” I said. “I’m fine.”

  Douche didn’t take the hint. He stepped closer, in my personal space. “But—”

  “Dude,” Chase said, stepping closer to me, effectively blocking the other man from moving closer. “She said she doesn’t care. Let it go.”

  Douche held his hands up. “Okay, man.”

  “You can go now,” Chase said, shooing him with his left hand. “You’re dismissed.”

  I choked on a laugh. “Chase.”

  “A killer.” Douche frowned, looking at me. “And a cold bitch. You two deserve each other.”

  I stiffened. “Go to—”

  “Excuse me.” Chase stepped forward, vibrating with rage, his eyes narrowed and focused on one thing and one thing only: Douche. “What did you just call her?”

  “Chase,” I warned, yanking hard on his hand to pull him to a stop. “Ignore him.”

  He spun on me, rage still written all over his face. “Did you hear—?”

  “I heard,” I said quietly, tossing a quick look at the classroom. All eyes were on us, like usual. But this time, everyone leaned forward a little bit, dying for Chase to give them a show. “But they’re waiting for you to do something for them to talk about, and I don’t know about you, but I’m not in the mood to give it to them.”

  He tightened his grip on me and, slowly but surely, the stiffness left his shoulders. He still looked pissed, but it was progress nonetheless. “I really want to kick his ass.”

  Douche sauntered away, high-fiving one of his buddies, and they all laughed and looked back at us. “I do, too,” I admitted. “But we’re better than them, and we’re not gonna do that. Instead, we’re doing this.”

  Rising up on my tiptoes, I pressed my mouth to his. His lips were hard underneath mine, and he didn’t return the kiss immediately. For a second, I thought I’d overreached, and I almost died of embarrassment. But then he closed his arms around me, hauling me closer, and took over, slanting his mouth over mine. When he pulled back, I was breathless and clinging to his shirt.

  I stared up at him, blinking. “Did it work?”

  “Did what work?” he asked, his voice raspy.

  “People love to see hate, but when you show them something nicer, something prettier, they look away.” I licked my lips. “Did they look away?”

  He looked for me. After a second, he turned back. “Yep.”

  “That’s humanity for you,” I said, shaking my head. “They love a good horror story, but show them happiness, and they lose interest.”

  He frowned, brushing his knuckles down my cheek. “That’s awfully pessimistic of you.”

  “Maybe. But it’s the truth,” I said, shrugging and stepping back. “The world isn’t a pretty place, and it doesn’t like happiness. End of story.”

  I walked to my desk, avoiding his eyes as I settled into my seat and set my stuff down in front of me. As I fidgeted with a pen, I stared straight ahead, feeling at least a dozen set of eyes boring into me. I hadn’t gotten enough sleep to deal with the ridiculousness of my classmates, and if they weren’t careful, Chase would be holding me back soon enough. Despite the fact that this was our first class, I couldn’t help thinking:

  Was this day over yet?<
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  Chapter Ten

  Chase

  I was in hell.

  Pure and utter hell.

  The doctor leaned over me, rotating my shoulder in circles. I gritted my teeth and didn’t let out a sound, even though it hurt like a bitch. Sweat dampened my forehead as I forced myself to remain still, letting the man work his voodoo shit on me.

  The appointment had started with a comprehensive description of the type of accident I’d been in, which was always a fun time. Nothing like reliving the worst fucking night of my life, over and over again, in vivid detail. After that, though, he’d began poking and prodding at me incessantly, until I was ready to jump off the table and roar. Suddenly, talking about that night had seemed like a walk in the park.

  But I sat still, in silent agony, because I’d promised Taylor I would make an effort to return to my old life—a life I knew very well would never be mine again. But if it made her feel better to see me try, then whatever.

  I’d fucking try, even though I already knew the outcome.

  “Does that hurt?” the doctor asked.

  I was tempted to lie and say it didn’t, because if I lied maybe he would try harder to fix me and achieve the impossible, but in the end, the truth would only come out.

  “Yes.”

  The doc nodded. “I see.” He moved my shoulder again. Pain pierced through me, making my breath come harder. “And this?”

  “Hurts even more,” I gritted out.

  “How long has it been this bad?” he asked, gingerly setting it back down.

  “Since the beginning.”

  He nodded again, frowning at my shoulder. “Is it worse in the evening?”

  “Sometimes. It depends on what I did that day.”

  Like, if I lifted Taylor against the wall and kissed her, I usually paid the price. One that I was fully prepared to pay, though. As long as it made my girl tremble, it was worth it. I just couldn’t let her know, because she’d never let me do it if she knew how much it hurt afterward. She worried about me too damn much.

  “You need to try your best not to irritate it,” he said, going back to his desk and sitting down. He started typing and clicking on his mouse, his forehead wrinkled with concentration. He was mostly bald but had his gray hair brushed to the side in a lame attempt at a comb over. I didn’t really trust a guy who thought that was a good idea. “How long ago was the injury?”