I know I saw too much.
But a wave of protectiveness surges through me, piecing together an image of a part of Chase’s life I’m not seeing.
I go to my wallet and pull out two twenty-dollar bills, crumpling them up so they don’t look as fresh. I find Chase’s bookbag and stuff them inside.
I want to give more.
I’d give thousands, if I knew he wouldn’t refuse it.
But maybe he’ll just think he forgot a couple twenties in his bag and it’ll help him on a rainy day.
I finally follow him to the shower, but when I step in and see his smiling face, I’m thinking of the text his brother sent. I want to know that Chase isokay. But I don’t know how to ask without saying the wrong thing.
And I wish there was a magic wand I could wave to make the realities of our lives just disappear.
CHAPTER 8
CHASE
Logan isn’t there when I knock on his door the next night after my shift.
I wait there in the hallway of the top floor for a minute, then two, then five, before I finally accept he’s either not there or not answering the door, feeling something slowly fade inside my chest.
I pull a receipt out of my pocket and grab a pen from my bookbag. I scrawl a sketch of a tiny spadroon sword like the one on my upper hip. Next to it, I write a short note:
Have a good night.
Think of me, if you come?
x
-C
I fold it up and stuff it through the tiny crack at the bottom of the door. I head back to my apartment wondering if I crossed some sort of line… or if he crossed a line last night with me and doesn’t want a repeat.
It’s crazy thatIwant a repeat.
It’s one thing to try things out with a man, but it’s another to think I can waltz up to his door whenever I please. I wasn’t joking with him when I said that I’m too needy sometimes. Iwas last night, to be sure, but Logan seemed to enjoy it, so I didn’t think an apology was necessary.
But the next night, I go to his door again.
And he doesn’t answer the knock this time, either.
After that, I don’t go back.
I can swallow my pride. If he wants to see me, he knows where to find me at the bar, but he hasn’t come down at all.
Three days later, as I’m walking from home to the Bellwood, I pass by a bus that has a giant print of Logan on its side.
It’s an ad forYard Line, and Logan is shirtless on the banner, holding a football on his shoulder and staring out at me.
Below it, the text reads:
America’s Heartthrob, Back for Season 2 Next Spring.
I gaze at it for too long before the bus pulls off down the street, disappearing into the river of traffic. I walk the rest of the way to work feeling like I must have stepped into a dream with him.
An hour later, Julian and I are behind the bar working when he snaps his fingers, reaching into his wallet for something.
