Page 33 of Worth the Chase


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“Habit of living alone. Sure you don’t want to snuggle? It will be a tight squeeze, but you can just lay on top of me.”

I turn toward him and curse myself. He’s sitting up, the thin sheet barely covering his package. Deep breaths. I wet my lips. “No. Hard pass.” That didn’t even sound believable.

“Sure about that?”

“Yeah. Sooo not interested.”

Damn him and that sexy smirk.

“Okay then. You don’t mind if I just go use the bathroom, do you?”

No. Don’t do it. Don’t—

Blessed baby Jesus.

I take that back. There is nothing baby about his essentials saluting me as the bastard gets up from the couch and stretches. “Beautiful day. Let’s go grab some breakfast, yeah?” He walks past me, never dropping that smug smile. I keep my lips thinned and my expression un-readable. Until my eyes slip and I look down.

Holy moly.

I’m in big trouble.

His low chuckle makes me want to smack him. The closest body part is his delicious ass. I clench my hands as he swaggers to the bathroom.

Move your feet and walk away, Bridget. Escape.

“Want to share a shower? It’ll be faster and we can get to breakfast sooner.”

I struggle to clear my throat. “In your dreams.” Darn it! That did not sound like I was not interested. More like interested, but semi-not interested. As in shouldn’t be interested but intrigued. “Fudge! What’s wrong with me?”

“What was that?” The sound of splashing water tells me he’s moved into the shower, the hot spray running down his muscled chest. His hands working up his six pack. Soap. So many suds. What am I doing? Get ahold of yourself!

“Nothing. I’m…I’m bored. Just gonna go…somewhere else. Hurry up. Breakfast waits for no one.” I twist around like a smart, level-headed, opportunity-missing girl and storm as far away from the bathroom as possible.

The cold shower trick must only be a guy thing. The frigid water did nothing for me.

Right after I left the confines of Chase’s nudist colony, I grabbed my backpack and locked myself in the guest bathroom, fighting to make all these unfamiliar sensations go away. The intrigue. The curiosity. The want. I couldn’t get my body to stop buzzing and almost stomped back into his bathroom and made him set me right.

Just weeks ago, I was this innocent, naïve virgin with no real guidance into the world of sex. I used to have this vision of myself offering that special part of me to the person I’d spend the rest of my life with. It would bond us forever.

Instead, I gave it to a stranger. A man who isn’t a stranger to me anymore. One who seems to find himself nesting inside my mind and my heart. Someone who makes me feel so alive, it scares me.

Freshly showered, yet feeling no relief, I slip into a pair of leggings and an off-the-shoulder t-shirt. I check in the mirror, making sure my hair looks decent, and blot my lip gloss so it’s a perfect mix of color and shine. “Oh, stop this.” I’m acting ridiculous. Like a teenager with googly-eyes for a boy I have a crush on. In reality, he’s just a guy I had a one-night stand with. I know nothing about him. He could be a serial killer for all I know. Well, statistics may confirm zero serial killers are fans of Twilight.

Still...this is wrong. Messed up.

It’s time to come to my senses and get the hell—

“Angel, you ready? I’m starving.”

And just like that, his voice has me slipping on my shoes and opening the door. “Did someone say breakfast?”

I can’t stop tapping my foot against the floor of his hallway as we wait for the elevator.

“Impatient much?”

I turn my head his way, missing his comment. “What?”

“I said impatient. We may fall through the floor with your stomping foot before the elevator makes it.”

I slam my foot down. “Nope, just bored. Trying to think about what I’m going to do once I ditch you after breakfast.”

He chuckles, a deep, throaty sound. “Good. I was just standing here wondering what I would be forced to do if I was stuck with you all day…”

My eyes dart to his, and I instantly regret it. Everything in the way he looks at me tells me he had plenty of ideas—and they all had to do with me staying.

I try to steady my voice. “Good thing I’m dying to be out of your hair.”

“We’re on the same page then.”

“Yep. We are.”

“Good.”

Thank God the elevator finally makes its appearance. And it’s full. The thought of waiting for another one has me plastering a smile on my face and pushing past limbs and ignoring the grumbles as everyone shifts for me to fit.

“Excuse me. Sorry. Just gotta get to my girlfriend,” Chase calls out as he shoves his way through. So much for him getting the next one and giving me some distance. “Ah, there we go,” he says, his eyes locking on mine as we’re pressed against each another.

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