Page 90 of Sex, Lies, and Margarita Mixes

We take a midnight drive and end up at the roof of the parking garage overlooking the food truck lot. The truck glows under the streetlamp, gleaming like a promise.

Chase hands me a bottle of Dos Equis from the cooler in the bed of the truck. “Thanks for being here, Roxy.”

I clink bottles with him and lean into his shoulder, “No where I’d rather be, baby.”

He leans over, kissing me slowly. When he leans back he says, “I’m glad. Someday, it’ll be more than a truck.” His tone is sure.

I smile. “Someday, it’ll be an empire.”

It will. I believe in him.

In this moment, with his arm around me and his dreams in front of us, I know with certainty, whatever we build… we’ll succeed. Because we’ll build it together.

CHAPTER 20

RUNNING SCARED… AGAIN

ROXY

* * *

It hits me at 3:17AM.

I’m lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, and Chase’s breathing is steady beside me. But there’s a weight, a whisper, a quiet panic sliding under my skin that I just can’t shake.

What if I can’t do this?

What if I ruin him?

What if everything good between us… isn’t enough to hold?

Things are too good. Too easy.

I slide out of bed. My feet are cold against the hardwood as I softly pad to the kitchen. With shaking hands, I pour a glass of water and stare out the window at the streetlight glowing across the street.

The outline of the food truck glows under a similar light in my head. It’s beautiful. It’s everything he’s worked for. And somehow, my brain twists that into pressure. Into fear.

What if I’m the weak link?

The very thing that causes his dreams to crash and burn.

“Rox?”

I turn. Chase is standing in the doorway, sleep-ruffled, shirtless, worry evident within his eyes.

“Can’t sleep?” he asks softly.

I shake my head. “Just thinking.”

Crossing the room, he pulls me into his arms. “Thinking what, babe? What’s racing through that gorgeous head of yours?” He kisses my temple.

I inhale and hold it before exhaling quickly and blurting out, “I don’t want to mess this up.” My voice cracks.

He exhales. “Mess up what exactly, baby?”

“Us.” My voice cracks. “Your dream. Everything.”

His finger settles under my chin, and he tilts my head, wanting me to look at him. I stare at the floor, too scared to look into the eyes that I know will be full of love… for me. “Hey. Look at me. Please.”

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