Page 25 of Chasing You

The music that was pumping earlier is nothing more than a whisper now, the evening winding down, and I can’t help but be grateful that I can share this quiet moment with my sister.

“We don’t have the same last name anymore,” she muses.

I just grin, taking a sip of the margarita the bartender just dropped in front of me. “At least you know Dad won’t try to get you to run Beckett Accountancy now that you’re a Marchetti.”

“Oh, he gave it one last shot this morning.”

I snort into my drink, choking on a laugh. “Oh my god, he did not.”

Isla lifts her head from my shoulder, raising an eyebrow and raising her glass in silent cheers. “Oh yeah, he did.”

“What a dick,” I shake my head. Isla just giggles into her glass.

I watch her as she takes a sip of the margarita, her eyes twinkling when the fresh taste explodes in her mouth.

“Do you know how proud I am of you?” I ask, her brows furrowing together as she looks at me. “How much you inspire me?”

She sticks her bottom lip out. “Miles.”

“I’m serious,” I say, spinning to face her. “I mean, look at you,” I gesture to the dress billowing over the edges of her stool. “Here you are, married, living your dream life on the other side of the world.” Isla’s eyes turn to glass as I talk. “You’re kicking ass, sis.”

She grabs hold of my hand. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“When do you head back?” she asks, wiping at the corner of her eye.

“In a couple of days, I fly to Tokyo.”

“Tokyo, huh?”

“Yeah, I’ve got a couple of days there before I fly back to theStates, so Wes and I are going to explore a little bit. You’ll call me when you land in Australia, yeah?”

“I’ll be sure to report how smooth the landing is on a scale from one to ten.”

I chuckle. “That’s my girl.”

chapter ten

MARINA

PAST

“Okay, what about this one?”I say, pouring a mix of vodka, apple schnapps, lemon juice, and something else I mixed in when I got distracted by Miles trying to force a puzzle piece into a spot that it clearly didn’t fit in.

He picks up the glass with skeptical eyes, his trust in my cocktail skills quickly dwindled after I gave him something that included a few different spirits and obviously too much sparkling water, considering he told me it tasted like TV static.

But what is a better way to experiment with making new drinks than plying the guy I’m trying to get into bed with them?

Miles has this whole good-guy morals thing going on. It’s been two weeks since the day when I first saw his naked chest and tried to convince him to take me to bed, and I still haven’t gotten there.

For all of my efforts, I can’t stop thinking about that birthmark right below his collarbone. All it does is add to his beauty, and I can’t get it out of my head. The image of him standing there in his swim shorts, his chest bare, and a vein at the base of his neck pulsing at the quick speed of his heartbeat.

It’s cute really, but I’m not used to cute. I’m used to guys who barely learn my name before sticking their tongues down my throat, not guys who care. Miles cares, and even though I’m aching to touch every inch of his body, I kind of like this.

It’s been two weeks full of little touches, of him sitting at the bar and staring at me all night while I work, of me trying to make him good at doing puzzles and failing miserably. Spending time with Miles feels natural; he makes me feel comfortable in a way I don’t think I’ve ever felt with any other man before.

He raises his eyebrows above the glass as he takes a sip of the drink. I just stand waiting for his opinion.

---