Page 68 of Worth the Chase


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“And I’m not one for long chats. I just wanted to stop by and drop this off.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a box.

“What—?”

“Chase gave these to me the other day. He was given some backwards advice and told diamonds were a way to being forgiven. Anyway, when he pulled them out of his pocket, this fell out with it. Not sure he remembers, he’s pretty messed up about all this, but I figured the earrings and letter are meant for you.”

I hesitate, my eyes falling to the letter.

“I gotta get to work so…” Snapping out of it, I take it. “See ya around.” He walks away, then looks back when I call for him. “Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“I’ve known Chase a long time. I know exactly the guy he’s been since we were five. I also know something changed in him recently. He’s been acting different. He was secretive about what, but he looked happy for the first time since I can remember. Like something gave him a reason to be better. Work harder. You can’t change a person’s past. You can only do right in the present.” He doesn’t say more before turning and walking back down the driveway.

The letter burns between my fingers. I ache to rip it open and read every word, but Anna pops her head out, derailing that plan. “I’m hungry.”

“Yep! On it. Let’s gobble up some of that lasagna.” I shove the letter and box in my pocket and race inside. We eat dinner while I listen to Anna explain how princesses are born, then we dress up and dance around the entire house. She paints my nails a pretty pink, leaving more polish on my fingers than anything.

We take a field trip to the guesthouse so I can pack a bag since I’m staying in the main house until Jonathon gets back, and we have a cookie eating contest.

I peek at my watch. It’s almost bedtime. “Last bite. It’s time for bed.” I sit forward in my chair, the feel of the box brushing against my jeans pocket. I’ve fought tooth and nail not to think about it. As Anna settles down and knowing I’ll be alone to read his letter, my heart accelerates. What is it going to say? Should I read it? Throw it out? Read it, dummy. You know you want to. I’m afraid of what’s inside. Will his words hurt me more?

I get Anna ready for bed, and thankfully, she zonks out faster than normal. Shutting off her light, I head back down to the kitchen and make myself a cup of chamomile tea, but even that doesn’t calm my nerves. I venture into the library and snuggle into the leather reading chair, releasing a long breath. Pulling out the box, I rub my thumb across the velvet top. I slowly open it, but stall midway. Maybe I don’t want to see what’s inside. Yes, you do. Holding my breath, I open it and my palm covers my mouth. My eyes prickle with tears as I stare down at angel-shaped diamond earrings. A thickness grows in my throat. God, that stupid nickname. I remember the first time he called me that.

“Still trying to decide if I’m the devil?”

“No. I’m realizing you may be an angel.”

He was so darn strange, I almost passed on him. But then he kept talking. His nervousness intrigued me. I was the virgin trying to proposition a stranger, and he was the nervous one. I laugh as I wipe at a tear.

“Yeah, that’s right, Angel. Remember what these lips feel like all over your body.”

He made me feel so alive. I could be on my death bed and still feel the warmth of his mouth all over my skin.

I close the box, my emotions so high, I’m reluctant to open his letter. “Come on, Bridge, just rip off the Band-Aid.” I blink away tears, inhale a breath for strength, and unfold the piece of paper.

Angel -

I’m writing this under the assumption you may never read it. Which may not be the worst thing, because it’s probably corny as hell and making my case even worse. But I was told it’s good to write down my feelings. Don’t worry, not by one of my past conquests. I’ve invested in a lot of advice from Google. I’m hoping this letter does the trick because I’m really not into sacrificing a lamb. I would go as far as wearing a vial of your blood, but that’s where I draw the line. Fuck, I’m babbling. Get to the point.

The point is, Kip was right. I was a player. I made choices without thinking of who I hurt. And I didn’t give a shit. Until I met you. Seeing you in that bar, it was like an angel coming to save me. Before you, I didn’t know what true happiness felt like. I didn’t think I would ever be vulnerable enough to love anyone else again—until I found someone just as scared. Love is terrifying. But with the right person, it’s beautiful., The good, the bad, and the ugly. (I know, corny line. Please burn this after reading.)

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