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“Because you don’t know me,” I finished for him, already knowing what he was going to say.
“Right,” he muttered, stare searching mine for long moments before he asked, “You hungry?”
A breath of a laugh left me despite the aching in my soul. “No. And you’re not either. You just got home from eating.”
“Chinese tonight?” he asked, refusing to back down as the beginning of a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“You can’t pull that card every day and expect it to always work.” My eyes rolled as I twisted the doorknob again. “I kind of wish Brandon had hit you now.”
He shrugged as if he wasn’t bothered by it in the least. “You’re smiling.”
“Only because I’m imagining your best friend knocking that smug smile off your handsome face,” I lied as I swung the door open, my breaths stalling in my lungs when the tips of Chase’s fingers landed on the back of my hip.
The touch was light but firm. Not enough to keep me from walking away, but the pressure and the placement of his hand went so far past strangers.
This was familiar. Intimate. Possessive.
This wasus.
My gaze drifted from his hand to where he was intently watching me. Once again studying me like he was trying so hard to find something.
Even if it was just the extent of the pain he was causing rather than his memories, I’d take it if it gave me these moments with him.
“I am sorry,” he repeated, enunciating each word to make sure I understood their depth.
“I know you are.”
“But you don’t understand,” he said sympathetically.
My head moved in faint shakes before I admitted, “No. I don’t understand this any more than you do. Just for different reasons.”
His chin lowered in acceptance before he moved away, eyes slowly dragging over me. Taking me in in a way that had me grounded in place because I didn’t want it to end.
But a blend of voices and someone calling out my name had Chase’s eyes snapping to the open doorway before shifting to me one last time.
“See you tonight, Scar,” he called out as he turned to head deeper into the house.
I watched him leave. Unable to move. Unable to speak.
My body felt alive. Felt like it was on fire. All from a look.
And my heart? It was thundering. Fighting for that hope and forusin that chasm of pain all because of one word. Because of a name.
Scar.
Istudied the boards lined up next to each other for another second before shutting the large garage door and heading into the house that weekend, already talking as I went. “When can I surf?”
A soft laugh filled the kitchen and had my mouth twitching into a smile until Scarlet said, “Few months.”
“Months?” I echoed dully.
“Chase...” she began with a sigh, her dark eyes meeting mine from where she was getting ice packs ready for me. “I don’t even know what the doctor said about the trauma to your head. But brokenribs and clavicle...I mean, have you seen yourself?” Her saddened stare swept my bare torso before falling away.
As if each reminder of my accident was too painful for her to linger on for long.
I didn’t need to look at the major bruising taking up the side of my body. It was kind of hard to miss.
“Then when can I stop wearing the sling?”
