Page 2 of Chasing Forever

She’d been lying on the couch, watching a romantic movie (for research purposes) when he’d walked in. But instead of coming over to kiss her, he’d said a quick hello and immediately gone into their bedroom to change. When he came back out to join her, he complained about being exhausted, and she sat there and listened, none the wiser. She recalled asking if he’d had time to eat dinner, and he said he’d eaten a leftover sandwich at his desk.

How stupid could she be? Never once in their relationship had he given her reason to distrust him, but after finding that receipt, she’d questioned everything. The months of him working late, the lessening of their sex life, his lack of interest in her writing. It all made sense now. She’d partially blamed herself for being so caught up in her “fictional world” that she hadn’t paid enough attention to her real relationship. If she had, she might have been able to salvage it.

But, when she’d lamented to her best friend, Quinn, she had set her straight. “It’s not your fault, Callie. It’s his. The asshole should have been honest with you instead of sneaking around behind your back.”

When she’d confronted Adam later that evening, he hadn’t denied it. Soon it all came pouring out. She was a bank teller who had been working there for six months. It had started as a harmless flirtation (yeah, right!) and then had progressed into more (read: sex). He was extremely sorry and had been contemplating when and how to tell her, but she’d saved him the trouble. All because she’d been nice enough to do his laundry! She’d never make that mistake again!

After the shedding of tears (hers) and the hurling of insults (also hers), they’d parted ways. That night, he’d packed his bags (he was a minimalist, so there hadn’t been many) and left, presumably to go to her house.

Once he’d walked out the door, Callie realized he’d never said the woman’s name. Had that been on purpose? Had he worried she might go into the bank, seek out the woman, and confront her in front of his co-workers? For a few minutes, she considered it. Surely, the bank didn’t condone office relationships unless they were more modern than she’d thought. Come to think of it, she hadn’t asked much about Adam’s job, and she kicked herself again for being too caught up in “her stories” to pay attention.

So, while she’d been heartbroken, she also accepted her share of the blame for their break-up. Still, it hadn’t made it easier to take that she’d become like one of the characters in her books who’d been shoved aside for another woman.

“Channel it into your writing,” Quinn had suggested. “Make him an evil character who gets killed off in the end. That’ll teach him!”

Callie had laughed. “I can’t do that. I write romance not horror stories. Besides, romance readers expect a happy ending.”

“You can still have your happy ending, Callie. It just won’t include Adam.”

But how do you get over a seven-year relationship that easily? It felt impossible, and as Callie had marinated in her grief, she’d neglected her writing. She’d kept thinking, I’ll get back to it in a few days, but then it became a few weeks, and soon it had been a few months since she’d written a word. It wasn’t from lack of trying. She’d sat in front of her laptop every day at her usual start time of 8 a.m. and waited for the words to come. But they’d alluded her. She’d start a sentence and then delete it. She’d done it so many times that she’d finally given up and decided to take a break. And then the unthinkable had happened—her grandma had been diagnosed with cancer.

Now, as she rumbled down the two-lane road leading to the resort, she remembered that day like it was yesterday. Callie had taken Irene for her annual physical like she’d insisted on doing ever since her grandpa had died. Irene was still capable of driving and reminded her of that every time, but Callie was stubborn (she’d learned that from her grandma). Irene was eighty-two years old, and Callie wanted to soak up whatever amount of time they had left together. Besides, after the appointment, they always went out to lunch and sometimes shopping, so she hadn’t minded at all.

Callie had been sitting in the waiting room, reading a steamy romance on her Kindle (for pleasure and research purposes), when Irene had come out with a disgruntled expression on her face.

“What’s wrong?” Callie had asked immediately.

“Not here,” Irene had replied.

Once they were inside the car, Irene explained what had happened. One week prior to her physical, she’d had a chest x-ray that showed a suspicious spot on her right lung. The doctor had discussed the results with her and referred her to a cancer specialist. Callie sat in shock while the words sank in. Her beloved grandma, the woman who was perhaps her greatest inspiration, might have cancer.

While they’d been sitting there, Irene had clasped Callie’s hand to provide comfort when it should have been the other way around. When Callie had started crying, Irene had gathered her close and said, “Cancer doesn’t have to be a death sentence. Don’t worry, sweetie. I’m not ready to kick off just yet.”

But less than a year later, her grandma was gone, and now Callie was in Hawaii, one of the most beautiful places on earth—alone.

Chapter 2

Alone at last! Finally! After a shitty year, Chase Edwards was blissfully alone. He’d rolled into the resort earlier that morning, brought in his luggage, and collapsed on the couch, where he’d napped for two hours. Pure heaven. He woke up groggy yet happy and set about unpacking.

It was hard to believe he was going to be on Kauai for eight weeks, but all he had to do was look out the patio door to know it was real. He’d opened all the windows to the sights, sounds, and scents of the resort and the ocean beyond. It had been so long since he’d been on vacation he’d forgotten how soothing it could be.

It was a gorgeous February day—yes, February—and he was tempted to take pictures and send them to his buddies to gloat. When he’d left Michigan the day before, the temperature had been in the teens, and he’d had to sit on the plane for an extra hour while they’d de-iced it. The delay hadn’t bothered him, though, because he’d be leaving the cold and all the other crap behind. By that, he meant the incident that had occurred just before Christmas.

The memory of that night was still crystal clear, and every time he recalled it; he’d become consumed with anger all over again. Chase had just left an appointment with a client, and he’d called his girlfriend, Cassandra, on his way home to see if she wanted him to bring Chinese. She hadn’t answered, but a few minutes later, she’d texted that she was out with friends and he should eat without her.

He hadn’t thought it unusual because, even though they were a couple, they both made time for their friends. He pictured her at a restaurant with her “girls,” drinking girly drinks and giggling while they shared stories of their sex lives. Did women really do that? He wanted to think so, and he’d hoped Cass was sharing some good ones about them. If there was one area of his life he was a hundred percent confident in, it was his prowess in the sack.

He’d always been a good student, and not only in academics. He’d studied women too, learning almost everything he needed to know in his college years, when there’d been plenty of opportunities. His biggest takeaway—see to the woman’s pleasure first, and then she’d be happy to see to his! It had been a lesson that had served him well, including with Cassandra (or so he’d thought).

In his business, there’d been no shortage of women, but none that knocked his socks off the way she had. She was gorgeous, with her strawberry blonde hair, legs for miles, and killer smile. When he’d first met her, he’d been surprised that she was single. But less than a year after they’d started dating, he’d figured out why.

Behind the killer smile, she was like a black widow spider, luring men into her web, pleasuring them, and then eating them alive.

Since he hadn’t wanted to eat alone that night, he’d decided to drop in on his buddy Patrick, a lawyer from another firm in the Detroit area. Chase hadn’t bothered calling first because it was Monday night, and he figured Patrick would be home drinking beer and watching football. During football season, he’d often get together with Patrick and a few other guys to do just that. So, Chase swung by his favorite Chinese place, picked up a few things he knew Patrick would like, and headed over to his house.

When he pulled into the driveway, he was glad to see a light on, which meant Patrick was home. He grabbed the bags of food off the passenger seat and went up the snow-covered walkway, thinking he was going to give Patrick hell for not shoveling it.

He was standing on the front porch, about to knock, when he heard a woman’s laughter coming from inside. Funny, he hadn’t even considered that Patrick might have female company on a Monday night. What Chase should have done was turn around and leave, but his curiosity got the best of him. The living room window was to his right, and the curtains were open, which was where the light shone from. He doubted Patrick would have left them open if there was something private going on inside. Since Patrick hadn’t mentioned dating anyone, Chase deduced that one of his sisters had stopped by. But just to be sure, he decided to do some more investigation.