“Watch it, Ash, my knuckles are healed, but your cheek is looking pretty tempting.”
I knew Chase was teasing, but I winced, now knowing the reason for his battered hands.
“Enough, tough guys. Think I might get to see the inside of this place anytime soon? I’m expecting the deluxe tour.”
Chase possessively tucked me into his side. It was my turn to laugh. Like he had anything to worry about.
“So you two are staying with me tonight, right?”
“Yeah, if you don’t mind. Got a few things to take care of this afternoon, but thought we could all grab some dinner, hang out tonight.”
My heart sped up a little thinking about the heavy day in front of us.
“Of course I don’t mind. Sounds great. Must be nice, huh, being able to take off whenever you fucking feel like it? Slacker, I’ve got to try that.” He oozed sarcasm, jabbing Chase with his elbow.
“Yeah, I can see how rough you’ve got it, jackass.”
I failed to share in their humor; instead, I rolled my eyes remembering that I hadn’t actually taken tomorrow off. I wasn’t even part of that decision. Unbeknownst to me, Chase had called my supervisor and told her I wouldn’t be in. Although nothing—I mean absolutely nothing—would have stopped me from being here with Chase, I needed to make that call. Needless to say, explaining the concept of boundaries to Dr. P filled in the areas when we weren’t making idle chitchat on our ride from the Cape to Boston. As I should have predicted, Chase had zero patience for such a discussion and opted for distraction. Damn him. This topic would be revisited, whether Dr. Bossy liked it or not … and when his miracle fingers were out of reach and unable to dissolve my irritation in seconds flat.
“Cool. We should hang low and get some take-out.”
“Ash, that sounds great,” I said.
Hang low sounded perfect. I was totally exhausted. But all the reasons why I was so wiped trumped my fatigue. At three in the morning Chase had snuggled into my side, long after I lost count, and breathlessly whispered that I was his favorite reason to lose sleep. I had no argument. None. Zero. Who needed sleep? So totally overrated. I smiled to myself.
However, my smile faded when we walked through the sleek marble lobby—a modern masterpiece—and past a life-sized black and white portrait of Chase’s sister. No name on a sad brass plaque underneath, just a massive oak framed picture; an exquisite piece of art. It was Kimi. KimCore. Her long hair cascaded down her petite frame, and her eyes shined bright, even in the absence of color. I knew they were a beautiful shade of blue, from the photos I saw and from how Chase described her. But in this portrait, towering larger than life, her eyes sparkled a magnificent crystal grey. The color of rare sea glass. I was staring at Chase’s eyes. She looked like exactly what she was, a seventeen-year-old ready to take on the world. The scripted quote that trailed along the bottom read: A selfless life was dedicated toward creating a better life for others. The meaning of those simple words confirmed that Kimi’s life was not wasted. Because of Chase. His strength, his determination, his undying love for his sister saved and created better lives for an infinite number of people after her. Chase gave her a beautiful life.
Asher shuffled us toward the elevator. It was no surprise that we didn’t linger in the lobby. Instead, I witnessed Chase’s conflicting emotions as we moved through a series of long hallways. Happy to show me around, yet somber, his shoulders appeared heavier. He explained how and where the actual equipment was constructed. It was truly amazing, all of it. But thick melancholy loomed in the air. Asher seemed oblivious or was used to ignoring it. Probably the latter. He covered by talking non-stop about all of Chase’s accomplishments and the company’s performance. Asher was clearly proud of their success. I realized Chase never allowed himself to feel accomplished; his guilt and grief were always in the way. This place—his company—was an epiphany of pure greatness stemming from his worst nightmare. How did you recover from something like that? I squeezed his hand and softly smiled up at him. I hoped one day he could enjoy his success without the extra weight. But deep inside I wasn’t sure that would ever happen. We walked most of the way in silence, listening to Asher chatter. I never let go of his hand. He never let go of mine. We weren’t running anymore. This was us for the long haul.
“C, since we’re here. You mind running into the office real quick and signing the final copies of the paperwork for the real estate transaction in Wrangel?”
“Wrangel?” I questioned. Chase shot Asher lethal eye daggers. “What’s in Wrangel?”
No sooner had the words left my mouth, it freaking hit me—my conversation with my dad. Fuck-face’s family restaurant closed because the strip mall was bought and being renovated. It was way too coincidental. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to jump into his arms and thank him or be pissed. I stewed on my emotions several seconds too long.
He hugged me tight to his chest. Intensity brewed. “You think I’m going to let you in a less than three hundred mile radius of that selfish fuck? Don’t think that I haven’t mapped out how many miles it is from Philly to Wrangel. And when you want to visit your dad and Sharon, when you want to go home, now you can ... anytime you want, and I can breathe easy.”
I almost smiled. Almost.
Something surged inside me, wanting to bubble over. An emotion, a calm. I couldn’t describe it. I just knew I needed to remember this feeling.
“Thank you,” I whispered against his lips. From the bottom of my heart that you pieced back together. “I love you.” I really, really did.
“Well, thank fuck. I was sure my ass was fucking toast.” Asher dramatically wiped his brow, and I laughed at his theatrics. Not that he was too far off.
I turned back to face Chase. “I wish you had told me though.”
He paused for a second, choosing his words carefully. “And if I told you, what would you have said? Baby, you gave me a hard time over a pair of fucking shoes. You’re telling me you would have been fine with me buying half of Main Street? Come on, Blue, truth.”
Okay. Definitely not. He unexpectedly looked away, breaking our eye contact. He looked ... embarrassed.
“Besides, we weren’t really speaking at the time.”
Ouch. Even though we were so far beyond it, I didn’t want to rehash my heartache the weeks Chase turned his back on me when I needed him the most. The weeks he physically tortured himself drowning in his own darkness. I had been so wrong, about a lot of things.
“You’re right.” Truth. “Just promise me next time you feel like doing something crazy you talk to me first.”
“Crazy? Baby, you should thank Ash here for talking me off the ledge of crazy. Buying a fucking strip mall sure as shit wasn’t my first choice and isn’t even close to crazy enough in my book, but it gets the job done.” He was dead serious.
Asher seconded the notion with a mix of relief and you-don’t-want-to-know written all over his face. Yeah, I didn’t want to know.
“Okay.” That’s all I said. I would walk through fire for this man. How could I fault him for wanting to do the same for me?
He drew me into a deep, lengthy kiss, only to release me to murmur against my lips, “Love you, Blue.”
I was anything but pissed. I was grateful he had eliminated the only reason I hated my hometown in a blink of an eye. He kept his promise, that bastard was never going to hurt me again.
“Shit, I need to find myself a woman” was all we heard before we watched Asher striding down the hall. “Later! Meet you at my apartment,” he shouted over his shoulder. “Try to keep the porn to a minimum. Last thing I need is to clean up that mess all fucking week.” We both laughed out loud. “And sign the damn paperwork so I can stop chasing your ass down.”