Page 56 of The Save

“Congrats on the win.” I turned, sliding my hands in the back pockets of my jeans. “And thank you.”

“For what?”

“You know what.” I pursed my lips, working to keep my smile from exploding over my face. That moment he looked up at me from the ice and pointed at his clipboard replayed in my head. “You made me feel like I was a part of it.”

“You are a part of it.” He crossed to the mini fridge, pulled out two bottles of water, and tossed one to me. Thankfully, I caught it.

I glanced at his packed bag, and something in my chest twinged. When we were back in Calgary, back at Douglas . . .

“You’re quiet.” He leaned his shoulder against the wall.

I twisted the cap on my water bottle. “You’re leaving early.”

“Yeah.” He looked at the floor then back up. “I have a thing tomorrow afternoon.”

“A thing?” I took a sip of water and sat down on the edge of the bed.

He nodded and drew a breath, considering. “I’m listed as my mother’s next of kin. So I have to meet with her parole officer. Discuss a support plan.”

That landed like a punch to my gut. “I’m so sorry.”

His jaw twitched. “Nothing to be sorry about. Just life.”

“Chase—”

“Honestly, I have you to thank for that, too.”

My brows furrowed as he pushed off the wall and swivelled the office chair to face me, then sat. “I said no. The first time they contacted me.”

“Understandable.”

He gripped the armrests. “When I saw her after she went in, she blamed everyone else. She didn’t want to get sober. Didn’t think she was the problem.”

I did the math in my head. Seven years, my mom had said. If she was getting out now, Chase would’ve been sixteen when she went in. The fallout would’ve been happening when he lived with us.

“I gave up on her. Didn’t have any desire to be there when she got out. But then something you said, when you were talking about Axel and Rory, made me rethink everything. ‘Maybe they just need one person to believe they can be more than what they are.’” He shrugged. “I don’t know if she’s ready to change, but she doesn’t have anyone but me.”

I twisted the cap from my bottle between my fingers. “You shouldn’t have to be that for your mom, Chase. She should’ve been that for you.”

He leaned back in the chair. “Yeah. I know.”

“Can I ask you something?” My pulse rushed.

“Sure.”

“Can I . . . touch you this time?” I forced myself to look at him even though I knew my cheeks were stained pink.

His lips parted. “I’m fine, Maddie. I don’t?—”

“No, it’s not about that.” It was kind of about that, but I’d been considering asking him since that afternoon, before I knew about his meeting with the parole officer. “I’ve never done that before, and when you asked me what I wanted last night— I guess I’ve never thought about that much, either. And then this popped into my head, so I thought?—”

“Sure.” Chase’s chest lifted and fell in quick succession.

“I won’t stay long. I know you have to leave.”

“You can stay as long as you want.” Chase set his water on the desk, then stood. “How do you . . . where do you want me?” He looked at the bed, then looked away. His fingers trembled.

“You’re nervous.” I didn’t mean to call him out, but it was comforting. To see I wasn’t the only one.

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