Page 26 of Chasin’s Surrender

Chasin stood and went to the fridge and started pulling stuff out, placing it on the counter.

“She went out.”

“Out?”

Where in the world would Bobby go out to? We were in the middle of nowhere. Since I’d been there, I’d driven through Cliff City and there was two grocery stores, a tractor supply, and three bars that were not her scene—if there wasn’t sawdust covering the floor and a mechanical bull, Bobby saw no point spending ten dollars on a beer. Or she hadn’t. Pain stabbed my heart and I remembered I didn’t seem to know my best friend very well anymore. Back in the day, she hadn’t liked expensive slouchy purses either.

“She went to Nixon and McKenna’s place.”

Chasin was being skimpy on the details and I wondered if he was doing that on purpose.

“There a reason you’re not elaborating?”

“Elaborating?” he queried, his head tilting to the side. The gesture made him look bad-boy-cute, if there was such a thing.

“You know, explaining to me why Bobby went to Nixon’s house without us having to play twenty questions.”

“Twenty questions?” Chasin gifted me with a dazzling smile. As annoyed as I was that he was repeating my words, I found I really liked Chasin’s smile.

Stupid, stupid me.

“As much as I’d love to wow you with my superior skills of deductive reasoning, it would be faster if you just told me why Bobby would go to Nixon and McKenna’s house at…” I paused and looked at the digital display on the stove. “Ten thirty at night?” That last part came out as a surprised whisper because I had no idea it was that late.

Chasin’s chuckle slid through me and I remembered how much I liked his laugh. The night we’d spent together, I’d found myself doing what I could to amuse him just to hear it. From the second I’d laid eyes on him, I thought he was good-looking. But then he smiled at me, and I felt something strange wash over me, and I did something I never did and asked him if he wanted to come into the house.

I never invited anyone into my home. I hadn’t been celibate all these years, but I’d been careful. I didn’t fuck my fans, I didn’t invite men in the music industry to my bed, nor did I take them up on their offers to join them in theirs.

And never, ever did I play games with my heart. I carefully and studiously checked my emotions at the hotel door when I was with a man. Always a hotel, never at home. That was a rule. No one invaded my personal life and I was cautious about getting close to anyone.

The way I lived, who I was, I didn’t have a choice. Men didn’t want Genevieve, they wanted Vivi. I had no issues with going long periods of time before I took a lover and only sought one out when the loneliness weighed so heavy I needed company.

But never in my home.

Yet, Chasin had smiled at me, and I’d invited him in knowing where I wanted the night to go. Hell, in my mind I’d already planned the next morning. I was a shit cook, except for breakfast. My waffles were the best. So after one smile from Chasin, I’d planned on keeping him in my bed and making him breakfast. After the first perfect morning, I wondered if I’d still be making him breakfast a week later. After the second, I thought I’d be happy making waffles over the next month.

But we didn’t make it that far.

“Babe?” Chasin called and I blinked, bringing him back into focus. “Where’d you go?”

“Um, nowhere. I was surprised how late it was,” I lied.

He held my eyes a beat before he glanced away and started to unwrap a plate of lasagna. I knew Bobby had indeed cooked before she left, because Italian food was her specialty and her lasagna was my favorite. A pang of regret hit my chest.

Bobby leaving me was all wrong.

“I can do that,” I announced. “You don’t have to heat up food for me.”

“You’ve been upstairs working for hours. Sit. Relax.”

“Really, you don’t have to do that,” I tried again.

Chasin’s head turned and he stopped cutting me a slice of Bobby’s excellent, cheesy goodness.

“Genevieve, sit. Relax.”

“Not sure I can relax,” I mumbled, and sat down.

Then he stared. That was all he did—he didn’t speak, he didn’t move, which made me uncomfortable so I started fidgeting.