Finally, Clara looks up at him, and a slow-blooming smile crests on hermouth. She brightens, thanks him. Sending her a terse nod, Chase shuffles off the platform, palming his neck, avoiding everyone’s bewitched gazes.
He stops at my table, just briefly, offering a quick goodbye. “I gotta go. Take care.”
“Wait—”
He’s already speed walking toward the exit.
Bolting from my chair, I follow, swiping tears off my cheekbones, trying to catch up. “Chase, wait. Just a minute.”
He pushes through the door, falters, then pauses on the walkway. Spinning around, he releases a frazzled breath as he faces me. “Listen, I have somewhere to be, so I—”
“Do you believe in fate?”
He blinks twice. “What?”
“Fate. You know, divine intervention. Coincidences that feel too profound to be random.” I gesture at the leather sleeves of his coat, the fabric glued to lean, muscular arms. “Your tattoo. Tag has one that’s similar on his wrist. Music is his whole life.”
Chase shakes his head, confusion scrawled across his face.
“He’s been trying to start a band for years,” I continue. “It’s his dream, but nothing’s ever panned out. No one has that same drive, that hunger, that raw talent.”
The air shifts between us. Realization seems to dawn.
Hesitating, he breathes out a soundless laugh. “Are you implying you want me to start a band with your brother?”
An awkward chuckle slips free, but I don’t confirm nor deny.
“That’s not…” He exhales, rubbing the back of his neck. “Annalise, that’s not going to happen.”
“Why not?”
His brows shoot skyward. “I can write it out for you. Bullet points, columns, a few brief essays.”
“Perfect. My notebook is in Tag’s car.”
Cocking his head to the side, he gawks at me, dumbfounded. “You’re actually serious.”
Am I?
I hear myself talking, but the words don’t make sense. Maybe I froze a few brain cells on that blizzardy night. Or maybe Kenna’s commentary wormed its way deeper than I thought.
Whatever the reason, my eyeballs have the audacity to water again. “The way you just sang up there, Chase, I… God, I wasn’t expecting it.”
Something tells me he wasn’t either.
Moonlight bathes him in a muted glow, a faint spotlight. His expression changes, shoulders loosening as he tilts his face skyward like he’s waiting for something to appear. To materialize among the sea of stars and cannonball to earth.
Then, softly, “That was the first time I’ve ever sung in public.”
“Impossible.”
“It’s not. I only went up there because…” His voice trails off, gaze drifting back to the concrete.
“You felt for her,” I deduce. “Did you know her?”
Chase remains silent for several beats before murmuring, “She reminded me of someone. Someone I lost. She looked…just like her.”
He doesn’t elaborate.
