Page 97 of Keep Me Never
His words stall in the space between us, and I don’t want that. I can tell they’re big, important to him, to us, and I need to know what he’s thinking.
“What?” I breathe, a knot forming in my throat. “Please say it.”
His gaze burns, like the thought running through his mind is the only truth he knows. “Happy,” he finally says. “I’m happy. Not just in the moment or because of this tonight, but actual happiness. Like my life…” He swallows hard, his gaze flicking over my face, softening with some secret I’m not quite sure I’m supposed to know. “Like maybe things are right where they’re supposed to be. Like no matter what happens, everything will be okay. And it has absolutelyeverythingto do with you, Paige.”
My breath catches, tears prickling behind my eyes.
“My little guardian angel, sent to me when everything felt wrong to remind me that nothing else matters. Not really,” he breathes. “Not when I can have this. You.”
“Chase—”
“Don’t say anything,” he pleads, shaking his head just slightly. “Please. I just… I need you to know.”
I reach out, fingers tracing along his cheek, cupping his face like he’s something precious. Because he is, this man above me.
His eyes close briefly, and when they open again, something raw and deep flickers there.
“Can I hold you now?” His voice is quiet, like the answer might just undo him.
I nod, my throat too tight to speak.
Gently, carefully, he tucks me against his chest, holding me like I’m the only thing tethering him to this earth.
Or maybe I’m the one who feels that way.
Either way, I’m not letting go.
I’m going to keep this man.
My thoughts instantly go to my father, and I fight back the urge to cry.
Please don’t let this man leave me, too.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Paige
The rolling hills of the private golf course are a sharp contrast to the salt and sand from my weekend getaway. Everything out here is pristine. Controlled. Even the air smells expensive, like cut grass and leather gloves and something faintly sweet.
My grandfather steps alongside me, his hands casually clasped behind his back as he takes in the expanse of green.
“You know,” he starts, his voice light but thoughtful. “I used to bring your mother out here when she was a little girl. She loved the kids’ club over in the main building, but every time I brought her, not an hour in and I’d see her curls disappearing and reappearing as she ran up and down the hills, trying to find me out here. Thankfully, I’m a talker, so we’d still be pretty close to the starting line.” He chuckles deeply. “Well, not ‘thankfully,’ but you know what I mean.”
My smile is soft as I try to picture it. Sometimes it’s hard to think of her fondly when I don’t have all that much to go on. Maybe spending time with my grandfather like this, away from the pressure of his company, can offer that.
“Yeah, she loved it until she hated it, like with most things when you grow up, I guess.” When I look at him in question, he shares, “She thought golf was slow. Boring.” A faint smile plays at his lips. “She was restless, always wanted the next thing before she’d finish the last.”
There’s a warmth to his tone, but you can’t miss the sorrowburied beneath it, too. That sadness sinks beneath my ribs and settles there like a stone.
“She wanted things to move fast,” he adds softly. “But life doesn’t always work that way. In fact, the best things we’ll ever come across in life are those that take time and patience.”
My own smile appears then, and I can’t help but think of Chase.
Yeah, I know about patience—took him two years to even meet me halfway, and even then it almost felt like I was backing him into a corner I wasn’t so sure he wanted to be in.
Thank goodness for Cameron and her pushy ways; I’m not sure if I would have ever been brave enough to wear his number to the game that first time.
Now I can say for certain he would allow me to push him into any corner if I tried.
