“The reason why you two are so weird with each other makes sense now.” My voice comes out cold as I flick my eyes over him. His outward appearance might be appealing, but his insides are rotten as hell. Now I see what Rhonda was alluding to with his shitty character. “I’m going to get going.”
“What? Already?” His eyes are glazed with the amount of alcohol swimming in his veins.
“Yeah, I’m feeling tired. Lots of schoolwork to catch up on.” I push away from the table, and he topples from his stool, surprising himself as he clumsily grasps onto the lip of the table to keep from falling all the way over.
“Wait. Let me walk you back.” His words are sounding garbled, and I wonder if he was drinking before I even met him here.
“That’s okay, I’m going to call a car to come get me.” I wave my phone to shoo him off.
He glares at me and stands to his full height with a slight sway. “Oh. Okay. I see what this is. I thought with you being his stepsister and all you’d be immune from his effect, but I guess not.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I snap.
“You all fall for his tortured musician act, while the rest of us get left in the dust.”
“I promise, the reason you’re getting left isn’t for who Chase is, but for who you are.”
With that, I turn on my heel, grab my coat, and walk out the door into the frigid night air, anger licking at my back the whole way. The car I’ve ordered is five minutes away and I watch as it inches closer, still reeling from the date.
While Chase isn’t my favorite person, he still lost his mom in a tragic way. Liam brushing that off so casually is a huge red flag, and I’ve learned my lesson about not paying attention when someone shows you exactly who they are. If he doesn’t care about his supposed friend’s mom’s death, he doesn’t have the capacity to care about me. A few years ago, I might have ignored it and made an excuse, trying to see the best in him. But not anymore. I deserve someone who’s going to treat me the way I should be and not settle for scraps just because they give me attention.
The ride back to the room is quiet, which is fine with me. I don’t have the energy for small talk with a stranger. I half expected Liam to follow me out of the bar, but he sat right back down and ordered another round. Disappointment and anger linger in my chest as I walk up to the room.
Chase is sprawled out on the couch wearing low cut gray sweats and no shirt. His dark hair is wet from a recent shower. A violin sits across his lap, the bow discarded to the side. Chase’s gray eyes widen with surprise at seeing me then peruse the length of my body. My skin heats under his gaze making my stomach flip. I brush it off, knowing he doesn’t mean anything by it.
“Dates over already?”
I plop my purse down and shrug off my coat. “Yep.”
He looks at the time on his phone, eyebrows pulling into a frown. “That didn’t last very long.”
“No shit, Captain Obvious.” I pad over to the fridge and find an unopened can of beer. My nails scrape against the metal as I open it with a satisfying burst.
He pushes off the couch and follows behind me. I’m in no mood for his shit though, feeling my shoulders tense as I swig a large gulp of the amber liquid. The alcohol flows into my veins warming my chilled skin.
“It wasn’t something I said, was it?” He looks practically giddy at my misery.
“No, dickhead. I just didn’t feel like sticking around. I’m tired.”
He smirks, laying a hip on the counter while crossing his arms over his broad chest. Three dark music notes glisten on his still damp skin, sitting right above his heart. I flick my eyes away, not wanting him to think I’m staring at him.
I go to bring the beer up to my lips again, only Chase swipes it from my hand.
“Hey!”
His eyes dance with mischief as he takes a huge gulp. I try hard not to think of his lips being where mine just were because it’s inappropriate as hell, and because I hate him. Right? Yes. I absolutely hate Chase Milford.
I glower up at him, hands on hips before I step closer to him, intending to grab it back, but my nostrils flare as I smell something familiar.
“Did you use my body wash?”
“You drank my beer, call it even.”
My mouth hangs open and he takes a finger and chucks it under my chin, closing it for me. I’m fucking seething.
“You asshole.” God, he gets under my skin. He’s so… so … insufferable! “That’s my stuff not yours! And now you smell like me!”
“Good.” His eyes are practically dancing with amusement. It makes me so mad that I shove at his chest, managing to unbalance him. He drops the can of beer and grabs me by both wrists.
