Page 56 of Chasin’s Surrender

His hand on my face slid back into my hair, and with a gentle tug, he held me captive.

“I’m not letting you go.”

I nodded the best I could.

“I’m gonna give you your dream back.”

I sucked in a breath that sounded like a hiss and Chasin continued to rock my world.

“I see you, Genevieve. I see Vivi, too. And I know this is not gonna make sense right now, but one day you’ll get this. You are two different people, but you’re not. You’re Vivi Rush, sassy, talented, confident. You strut your fine ass across that stage like you own it, and, woman, you own that shit. You belong. All of that is inside of you. But not everyone gets to see the other side. The funny, sweet, loyal, loving Genevieve. That doesn’t mean you’re two people. What it means is, the ones who are close to you and get all of you are damn lucky. Who you let in, who you keep out, that choice is yours. But believe this—all that’s you is so fucking beautiful, it’s blinding. I want every part of you and I’m not stopping until I’ve earned it.”

Earned it.

You are two different people, but you’re not.

He got it.

Someone finally fucking got it.

I wanted to shout with joy, jump up and down in glee.

Finally.

“So, what now?” I asked, and licked my dry lips.

“Now I earn your forgiveness.”

“But I already forgive you,” I told him.

This time it was Chasin’s lids that fluttered closed for a moment. When they reopened, he looked torn, conflict dancing in his eyes. The room was still charged and I struggled to understand why he looked like he was warring with himself.

Moments later when I found out, I went back to my earlier refrain—I should’ve lied.

17

Shame was a word that Chasin wasn’t accustomed to. And now that he’d felt it, knew the taste of it, the weight, he knew he despised the feeling.

But there was no other emotion he could assign to what he’d done. Guilt wasn’t strong enough.

Shame.

Deep-seated shame had taken over.

And since she’d been honest with him, he now owed it to her to be the same.

“I heard you singing,” he confessed.

“Singing?”

Chasin was uncertain if she’d take his eavesdropping as a betrayal or an invasion of privacy. Neither of those would work in his favor but he needed to tell her the truth.

“At your uncle’s. You were in the room where you kept your guitars. The door was closed but when I was passing by, I heard. And I admit, I stopped to listen.”

A cute crease formed above her brow and her nose scrunched. The good news was, so far she didn’t look pissed, but he still hadn’t told her what she was singing.

“I heard the song.”

“What song?”