Page 111 of Say You Swear


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Noah had nothing to worry about, everything was amazing, and while I couldn’t possibly tell my mom, Noah’s mom’s yams’ recipe was to die for, the crusted marshmallows on top a dessert all their own.

Almost everyone goes back for seconds of something, and it’s not long after that, we’re stuffed and enjoying some mixed drinks by the fire.

I slip away for a moment alone, stepping down the patio and out into the sand.

Leaving my shoes behind, I smile at the sea, moving closer and closer until my feet are at the water’s edge. I dig my toes into the wet sand, tugging my sleeves over my hands as the wind picks up, whipping me in the face as if to welcome me back.

I walk a little farther down, until the dock comes into view, and standing right beside it, in the spot we once stood…

“Chase.”

I didn’t mean to speak his name aloud, but it slips from me anyway, and his attention snaps in my direction.

He doesn’t move, so I shift a little closer.

“Hey.”

He frowns at the ocean.

“Are you okay?” I wonder.

At first, he’s quiet, but then his head falls back on his shoulders a bit.

“No, actually,” he says into the air, a heavy sense of frustration in his tone. “I’m not.”

I wait, folding my arms into my chest.

“I thought you understood.” He takes a step toward me.

My head pulls back. “Understood what?”

“Me.” He jabs his finger into his chest, and I realize he’s buzzed. Maybe even drunk. “I thought you understood me. I thought you got it.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“That’s the problem.” He bends, stressing every word, nearly right in front of me now. “How did this happen? How can you not see?”

“See what, Chase. You’re not making any sense. What am I supposed to see—”

“That I want you!” He cuts me off with a shout.

Every part of me stiffens, but slowly, I shake my head.

“Yes, Arianna.” His brows jump. “I want you.”

Oh my god.

My chest caves in, and I turn away, but he grips my arms, twisting me back. “Chase—”

“I want you,” he hisses, his entire being softening in the next breath. He whispers, “I want you…”

My teeth clench, my mind spinning. “Please don’t say that.”

“Tell me you want me too. Tell me you didn’t give up on me.”

“Chase.” My voice is a broken murmur, attempting to tug free. “Let go.”

But he only shakes his head, pushing closer. “Ari, look at me. Listen to me.”

“I’m going to need you to take your hand off her.” Noah’s voice breaks through the night.

Chase instantly flushes red, anger slipping over him as his eyes point past my shoulder.

Calm as ever, and with his hands pressed into his jean pockets, Noah slowly steps up, his eyes on Chase. “You should go.”

“You should fucking go,” Chase spits back.

My pulse pounds out of control as I look between the two.

“You’re drunk,” Noah tells him.

“So?!” Chase throws his hands out. “She safe with me regardless. She knows that.”

“You should sober up, try again tomorrow.” Noah’s voice is void of emotion.

My brows crash and I whip around to face Noah, but Chase is still holding onto my arm.

Chase scoffs. “I’d never hurt her.”

Noah stares him in the eye. “You already did.”

My spine stiffens, and Chase blanches, releasing me as he stumbles back a step, shock drawing up his features.

“You told him.” He gapes at me. “You told this fucking stranger?”

My chin lowers with guilt, but I force my eyes not to fall.

“That was for us! That was ours!” He shakes his head in disgust, then jerks around and staggers off.

“Chase!” My body aches. “Wait, I—” I jerk forward, but freeze mid-step, whipping around to Noah. “Noah, I just…”

“It’s okay.” His face is blank as he nods. “Go after him.” His tone lowers. “I know you want to.”

“It’s not like that,” I swear, my throat clogging.

He steps to me, cupping my face as he presses his lips to my cheek. Pulling back, he looks me in the eye. “Isn’t it?”

I shake my head. “Noah—”

“Last time I’m going to say it… go.”

“I don’t want you to misunderstand. I—”

“Juliet,” he warns.

Clenching my teeth until they hurt, I bite back tears, then turn and chase after Chase.

It takes a few minutes, but I spot him about fifty yards in the opposite direction, head dropped in his hands, sitting on a boulder.

“What the hell was that?!”

His jerks upright, glaring past me, and once he realizes I’m alone, his eyes come back to mine. Something flickers across his face, but he only stares at me.

“Chase,” I snap, darting forward. “You wanted to talk, fine, here I am. Talk.”

“I’m sick of this shit.” He gets right to it.

“Sick of what?”

“Of him. You. All of it!”

“Wha—” I throw my hands out confused. “What do you want me to do, Chase? Hide away?”

“No—”

“Let you enjoy the life that I belong in just as much as you do so that you feel better—”

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