Page 78 of #Starstruck

To make myself accountable, I sent Chase a text.

He had asked me on a couple of occasions why I hadn’t officially introduced him to my friends or my mom. He’d wanted me to meethismom, but she was with Husband No. 9 in Zanzibar. Although I was thrilled he’d thought we were at the meet-the-family stage, I’d told him my concerns. That Lexi would be hurt. That my mom would freak out and go off the deep end. And I’d said, “You are the only thing that’s ever been just mine. If I tell them, then I have to share you. I like not having to share you.”

He’d kissed my temple. “That’s why I didn’t tell Helen and all of America about you.” Which made me feel worse that I’d been upset at him for denying he had someone special in his life in that interview.

Chase texted me back.

There. Now I had to do it. Because it was time to tell my loved ones about Chase.

I just hoped Lexi wouldn’t hate me.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Now that I had a countdown and a mission, I was driving myself nuts. I tried all kinds of distractions. I kept rereading the same sentence in one of my all-time-favorite books. Missed entire plot points in the romantic comedy I streamed. Not evenJeopardy!could hold my attention. In desperation I drove out to Marabella, thinking housework and small siblings would help take my mind off things, but all Zia talked about was how much she loved and missed her Cheese.

Which I totally got.

I was relieved when Mrs.Mendel called and asked if I had a couple of hours free to watch Lily and Mei-Ling. Finally, somewhere Chase-free. Until I got there and saw one of Mr.Mendel’s movie posters on the wall and remembered the reason I even had this job was because of Chase.

After I returned home, I got a text from him.

It was probably more than I should have admitted, but it was true. I needed him. To reassure me and get this Amelia garbage out of my head.

The arrangements were made, and the driver picked me up a little earlier than I’d thought he would. Which was fine, because I could let myself into Chase’s house. But when I got there, Chase sent me another text saying the flight had been delayed again. I told him I was at his house and would see him when he arrived.

I hated how quiet it was without his laughter and his presence. I wanted to feel close to him.

So I went upstairs to the last place we’d been together. The place where I’d realized I was in love with him. When I got to his room, I kicked off my shoes and climbed into his bed. His pillows and sheets smelled like his laundry detergent, and the faint scent of his cologne surrounded me. I planned on staying there for just a few minutes because I didn’t want to lie in wait like a creepy stalker. But I had underestimated my emotional exhaustion, because next thing I knew, Chase was shaking me awake.

“Hey, Goldilocks.”

“Chase!” For a second I thought I had dreamed him up, but the feeling of his strong hand against my shoulder was very real. I sat up and threw my arms around his neck, so relieved he was here. I almost knocked him off the bed.

He laughed and then kissed the side of my neck. “I missed you, too.”

I started planting kisses on the side of his face, then moved around to his mouth. He offered me a gentle and easy kiss, and I met it with desperation and intensity. I pulled him down with me, opening my mouth under his, crushing him against me. I needed to know he was mine. Not Amelia’s. That I was the only person who mattered to him.

Chase quickly responded, a groan of pleasure sounding in his chest as his hands went around my waist, pressing and kneading. My heart jackhammered against my rib cage as the heat sizzled and snapped between us. That heat made my body languid and pliant, and I sank into the sensation of his expert kisses and touches.

He teased me with his mouth until I was gasping and frantic. It was like he was using his lips to stoke a growing fire, one that threatened to rage out of control. It sent all my senses spinning until he was the only thing that kept me anchored to reality. I wrapped one of my legs around his, as if that would tether me. I wanted more. I was so greedy for him, for all of him. To feel him and kiss him and have the warmth of his skin against me.

Without thinking, I reached down and grabbed the bottom of his T-shirt, intending to pull it off. I moved it up his torso, luxuriating in the feel of each taut ridge and muscle in his back. He lifted up slightly and helped me yank it off, then returned to me. I reveled in the feeling of his smooth skin under my shaky hands as I explored his back, shoulders, and chest. I wondered how it would feel against my own skin. But then, as if suddenly realizing what had happened, he grabbed one of my wrists.

“Zoe,” he panted. “Zoe, wait.”

I shook my head. I didn’t want to wait. I couldn’t remember a good reason for it.

But he lifted his head so I couldn’t kiss him. “Wait,” he repeated. “Not that I don’t very much want to keep going, but what are you doing?”

Breathing hard, I tried to coax him back with the hand he wasn’t holding, but he was like an immovable stone. I whimpered in frustration. I was throwing myself at him, and he was telling me to wait?

“Have you been crying? Your eyes are all red.”

It had been hours since I’d last cried, but he sounded so tender, so concerned, that it made the tears well up again.

“Babe? Talk to me.” His touch became soothing and sweet, and he turned onto his back and pulled me against his bare chest, then stroked my hair. And even though my face burned with electric heat from his tantalizing skin, he calmed my erratic pulse and made the tears go away.

I again reminded myself to be smooth and subtle and not jealous, but what I said was, “Are you sleeping with Amelia Swan?”

---