Page 49 of Keep Me Never
Her head tips to the side, her smile so fucking sweet, my feet shuffle in even more until my sneakers are brushing the edge of her sandals. “Why don’t you ever come to lunch anymore, Chase?” she asks softly.
So soft and without a hint of judgment that I want to tell her. I want to let her into my world a little and see if she looks for the fastest route out, but I’m afraid to see pity.
I can’t handle that, not from her. I don’t know what it is—I can’t quite put a name to it yet—but when I’m near her, it’s like there’s this current just beneath the surface, pulling me in before I even realize I’m moving. It’s not just attraction or curiosity. It’s deeper, something that tugs at a part of me I don’t fully understand. It’s bigger than reason. Bigger than me.
And that scares the shit out of me because no matter how many times I shuffle the cards I’ve been dealt, it’s the joker that stares back at me—over and over and over.
So how can I lean into something bigger than me when I’m the lesser man in every equation? When I know without a sliver of doubt that this girl right here, she deserves the kind of man that can give her everything. Not one who can’t even afford a damn meal plan anymore that would make it possible to eat lunch with her every day.
What would she say if she knew I was more or less living off locker-room protein bars and bologna sandwiches in my dorm at night?
But I do have a little money, and I’ve applied at anotherdozen places over the last week, so there’s a chance I might have a little more coming in at some point. So maybe I can take her somewhere. Maybe just to Denny’s down the street.
I think she’d like that. More than once, I’ve seen her go for pancakes when they were an option.
“Paige—”
“There she is!”
Paige’s head jerks to the left. “Grant?”
My attention follows just in time to catch the man’s small scowl. “Sweetheart…”
“I mean, Grandfather, hi.” She quickly corrects herself, looking back at me and motioning for me to follow her to the older man standing just outside a sleek SUV.
Kevin, our driver from the night we went to the show, stands not far to the side, his hands folded in front of him. He gives a small bow in recognition before focusing back on the older man.
That’s Paige’s grandfather.
If I hadn’t done my research on the jet last night, after today, I wouldn’t need to.
Not only because he has her eyes, or I guessshehas his eyes, but the man just screams money. I’ve heard people say that before, and I don’t know that I ever truly understood what it meant until this moment.
It’s in his every move. Everything about him points to unquestionable wealth, the kind that doesn’t need to prove itself. His tailored three-piece suit sits perfectly, custom made and likely costing more than most people’s rents. A polished gold watch sits on his wrist, just beneath his cuff, understated but unmistakably expensive. Even the way he moves, measured and unhurried as he approaches Paige, suggests a lifetime of power, the kind that comes with knowing the world is at his fingertips.
Then again, as he stands there and holds his long, bulky arms out toward Paige, there is a tenderness I wouldn’t expect him to possess, at least not at first glance. I guess that’s the thing aboutstereotypes and judging a rookie by his title, so to speak. You never really know what someone is capable of until you take the time to figure it out, but then again, I would have sworn I knew my mother and look how that turned out.
I take a step back, and the moment my foot lifts from the ground, his blue eyes slice to mine.
“You must be a friend of my granddaughter.” His tone is friendly enough, a little more business than personal, but that’s all right.
Paige steps out of his embrace, smiling from him to me. “Yeah, Grandfather, this is Chase. Chase, this is my grandfather, Grant Randolph.”
Straightening my spine, I step up and offer my hand, which he takes, his lips twitching slightly when I match his firmness.
“It’s good to meet you, Chase.” His eyes fall to my AU football T-shirt, and when they come back up, there’s a small, inquisitive crinkle at the edge of his eyes. “You’re on the team, son?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I might have to bring myself out to a game this season, seeing as it seems to be the only thing my granddaughter is willing to do on Saturday nights.”
That makes me smile her way. “Yeah, she’s a loyal little fan.” I don’t realize how teasing it came out until she drops her gaze to the grass, a light laugh leaving her, and now all I can think about is how she had my number on her cheek two weeks ago.
Now I’m thinking about all the ways I might be able to convince her to do it again.
“Loyalty might just be one of the most important traits in a person,” he says, regaining our attention, and I’m not sure if I imagine that bitter note in his tone or not. “Anyhow, I came to surprise you, take you to lunch.”
My shoulders fall instantly, but when she glances over, I make sure there’s a grin on my lips. “I’ll catch up with you?—”
