Page 15 of After the Chase

Shit, I completely forgot.

Jessica is somewhat complicated. I met her two weeks ago while buying vegetables at the local farmers market and we’ve been texting ever since. She's Australian, maybe forty, with sun-damaged skin and an aggressively friendly demeanor. She'd struck up a conversation about the best hiking trails, and before I could politely extract myself, she'd invited herself over for tea.

I should have said no, but I was intrigued to see what Noah would do. Curious how he'd react to someone inserting themselves into our carefully constructed isolation. So I'd said yes, thinking what a great entry it would make in my journal.

And now she's coming over, and Noah is pissed, I can see from the set of his jaw that he's already decided how this will end.

"I don’t like that you invited her into our home," Noah says quietly, crossing the room toward me. "Into our private space."

"It's just tea, Noah. She's harmless."

He backs me against the wall, his hand coming up to rest against my throat, a warning that I will pay for this, most likely with my ass, which I’m not mad about.

"No one is harmless," he says, his thumb brushing my pulse point. "But we'll be polite to her and then she'll leave and never come back. It will be up to you the manner in how she leaves. Don’t start pushing me now, Chase. What you think you know about me, might show you things you aren’t ready for."

His mouth brushes my ear, and I shiver. "And tonight, I'm going to remind you exactly who you belong to and who is in control."

The promise in his voice makes heat pool low in my belly. I make a mental note of his reaction to write in my journal later. I understand that a lot of people don’t appreciate visitors, or particularly enjoy maintaining some form of a social life. But this is different, Noah is reacting like someone is trespassing onforbidden land, as if we have a boundary around us that nobody can step across. And it’s all because he doesn’t like to share me and our time with anyone.

“You’re over-reacting, Noah,” I say, with zero conviction as I know he will never change. But I enjoy provoking him to see how he’ll react, especially if I benefit later. Nothing he does to me is a punishment in my book.

“When it comes to you, never,” he says, and then he's gone, leaving me breathless against the wall, already anticipating what comes after Jessica leaves.

Jessica arrives at three o'clock, carrying a tin of homemade biscuits and wearing a bright floral dress that seems aggressively cheerful against the muted tones of our house. Noah hates people in general, but this jovial kind will be his worst nightmare.

"Chase! So lovely to see you again!" She sweeps in without waiting for an invitation, her eyes immediately scanning the space with undisguised nosiness. "What a gorgeous place you have here. Very secluded, isn't it? Must be nice to have so much privacy."

There's something in the way she saysprivacythat makes my skin prickle with awareness.

"Jessica, this is my husband, Noah."

Noah extends his hand with mechanical politeness. "Jessica."

She takes it, her smile faltering slightly at his cold tone. "Lovely to meet you. Chase has told me so much about you."

"Has he." he says with zero interest as his eyes flick to me. I shrug at him as it’s not technically true that I’ve been talkingabout him, unless you count that I mentioned I was married to a guy named Noah. I can hardly be truthful about him.

We settle in the living room, and I make tea while Jessica chatters about the weather and the local hiking trails and her own travels through New Zealand. Noah sits in the armchair across from her like a statue, most likely planning her demise.

I watch him from the kitchen, feeling heat build in my chest. This is foreplay to me. The way Noah's jaw tightens when Jessica laughs too loudly, how his fingers drum once against the arm of his chair when she leans forward to emphasize a point. The cold, calculating stillness of him like a panther as he watches her intrude on our space. He's claiming me through his jealousy of the idea of sharing me, and I'm aroused by it.

Jessica, who clearly cannot read a room, tries to engage him. "So what brings you two to New Zealand? Vacation?"

"Yes," Noah says, his voice flat.

"How long are you staying?"

"Undecided."

"And what do you do for work?"

"Private investments."

Each answer is clipped, icy and designed to shut down conversation. But Jessica is either oblivious or determined, because she keeps pushing.

"You must be so proud of Chase. He was telling me about his work as a therapist. Such important work, understanding the human mind."

Noah's expression doesn't change, but I see his fingers tighten almost imperceptibly on the arm of his chair.