Claiming Chase: (A Second Chance Stepbrother Romance) (15 page)

I wake up in an unfamiliar bed. I feel a jolt of panic, for just a second. It’s always like this — every time I wake up in a strange bed, I remember my past. The years of running around with gangs. Of never staying in the same place for more than a few weeks. Of cutting and running from motels in the middle of the night.

But although I am in a strange bed, I’m not with a stranger. Because when I turn around I see her there. Charity, dressed simply in a white t-shirt and blue jeans, makeup-free, towel-drying her hair.

She hasn’t noticed I’m awake yet, and for a few moments I watch her as she gets ready. She leaves her hair half-damp, and then looks at herself in the mirror, concentrating hard as she puts on her makeup. Not much; just a slick of mascara, a whirl with some brushes of powder, and a smear of lip balm. She seems so calm, so focused on herself — it’s like the Charity I remember, all those years ago, engrossed in a book or sometimes just her own thoughts, out there on the porch of the beach house.

I used to watch her there, too, sometimes. I’d park the bike a little way away from the house, so as not to disturb her. Sometimes it felt rude even to walk past her. Like she was in her own private world. She was so beautiful, even back then. I could see the woman she was going to become — the woman I’m here with now.

Charity was always going to make something of her life. How could she not? Always reading. Always thinking. And her dad always encouraged her. I used to long for a life like that when I was younger. For parents who gave a shit whether I did my homework or not. For a mom who didn’t come home wasted every night. She told me I was never gonna amount to anything. And even now, with all my money, I can’t help but suspect she might have been right.

I suppose that’s what scared me about Charity. I could see her goodness, her kindness, how smart she was, and how much I was going to hurt her.

I could watch her like this all morning, but just then she turns around, sees I’m awake, and it’s back to reality.

“Morning,” she smiles.

“Good morning to you, too,” I reply. “Aren’t you supposed to be hung-over?”

She blushes slightly.

“I know I was wasted last night, but the thing is, I’m a lightweight. So I never drink enough to really feel the effects the morning after. And a good thing, too, because I’d love to stay and chat but I’ve got work to do at the library this morning.” 

I’m literally stunned. I’ve never had a woman do this to me before. The other way round? Sure. I’ve quietly gotten dressed, leaving someone wrapped naked in my sheets, made a quick escape while telling them where the coffee’s kept. So I suppose at least I know how it feels now. And how it feels
sucks
, and I’m not gonna let her get away with it.

I wrap the sheet around my body, swing my legs out of bed, and move over to her. I don’t need to go far — her room’s so small. I’m gonna get her back in bed, right this second …

“Hey,” she says, as I wrap my arms around her slender waist. “Not so fast, mister.”

She takes my hands from around her, and sits me back down on the bed.

“I said I’ve got work to do,” she scolds.

“As do I,” I counter. “But right now, I want to be in bed. With you.”

I reach up and pull her close, kissing her. She kisses me back, and she’s mine for a moment, but I can’t celebrate my victory for too long before she pulls away once more.

“No, no, no, no, no,” she says, shaking her head.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, worried that I’ve gone to far, that I’ve upset her somehow.

“Nothing’s wrong,” she says. “It’s not like that.”

She sits down on the bed next to me and sighs, putting her head in her hands, her long hazelnut hair, still-damp, falling forwards and covering her face.

“Listen, Chase. Thank you for looking out for me last night. I know I didn’t exactly seem grateful at the time, but I appreciate it. I really do. And afterwards, back here? All this?” She gestures to the bed. “It was fun. But I can’t keep doing this. I can’t do this again. You’ve hurt me too much, Chase. And I take responsibility for that, too. I’ve
let you
hurt me. I got caught up in the memory of who we were as teenagers. Not the reality of who we are now. I mean, just look around you, Chase. My entire bedroom is smaller than your walk-in shower. I’m looking for love, and you’re a playboy. I need to let you go. Finally …”

She looks at me sadly, then leans in and kisses me gently on the cheek.

“But I … I …” I stammer.

“No,” she interrupts. “Don’t say anything. You’ll only convince me to change my mind.”

Quickly, she stands up, grabs her bag and jacket, and heads to the door.

“There’s coffee in the kitchen, let yourself out,” she says before the door slams shut.

Ouch.

Let yourself out?

That’s
my
line.

And it turns out being on the receiving end of it really hurts. Why couldn’t I say anything? Why didn’t I make her listen to me? There were so many things I should have said.

I slowly gather my clothes, then start to get dressed.

I know I should go, but for some reason I don’t want to leave her room. I want to stay here, somehow nearer to her.

I look at her bookshelves: the well-worn paperbacks that she’s read and reread over the years.

And she was right of course. Everything she said about me was true. Chase Parker is a playboy. Or at least, he
was
a playboy, until Charity Lindley came back into his life.

I take one last look at her things, at the life she’s built, then walk out the door.

“No really, Charity,” Professor Lane smiles, “your last draft was
excellent.
You’ve made great progress, and I’m so pleased to see that you’ve finally tackled
Wuthering Heights
.”

“Thank you,” I reply. “I was really nervous that you wouldn’t like my new chapters. But you were right. My argument doesn’t stand up without reference to
Wuthering Heights
. It’s Emily Bronte’s classic. I was stupid not to include it from the beginning. I guess I just had some stuff to work through with the text …”

He laughs. “Let me guess? Trouble with your own Heathcliff? You wouldn’t be the first student I’ve had who maps their first love onto Bronte’s hero.”

You have no idea
, I think, blushing.

“Kind of,” I smile back, desperate to change the subject. “Although I was always more of a Mr Darcy girl myself.”

At this, Professor Lane tuts and shakes his head. “All these romantic heroes from books ruining it for the rest of us! Us regular guys just can’t compete. Anyway, back in the real world, I think you’re nearly there, Charity. Once you’ve written the conclusion, I think you might be done. And after that? Well, it’s just a matter of a close reading to pick up on any errors, make sure all your footnotes are in order, and then I’ll be happy to submit this one. You’ll be Doctor Lindley in no time.”

“Wow,” I say, knocked inarticulate by the thought of finally actually reaching my dream. “When I started, it felt like I was
never
going to finish. I can’t believe the end is in sight!”

“That’s a very common feeling,” he says warmly.

“Doctor Lindley,” I say slowly, in wonder. “But what am I gonna do next? I guess I was so focused on this, I hadn’t really thought about the future …”

“Well, I’m glad you brought that up,” he replies. “Because I’m looking for an extra person to teach on the summer school course this year. I think you’d be perfect, if you’re interested?”

“I’d absolutely love to!” I gasp. “Thanks so much, Professor Lane.”

“Now, Charity. If we’re going to be colleagues, you’re going to really have to start calling me by my first name.”

“Sorry, Alexi,” I say. “I’d absolutely love to.”

“Great,” he says. “The pay isn’t much. In fact it’s peanuts. But it’s a start. If you do well, and I’m sure you will, you’ll be asked to teach undergraduates in the Fall. And that’s you on the career ladder! After that, it’s up to you. Where do you want to go, Charity?”

“I hadn’t thought about it,” I reply.

“Well, I have colleagues in Bennington. It’s excellent. And then there’s Iowa, of course. And Chicago has a very good reputation, if you wanted to go back home. And that’s just here in the States. Think big, Charity. A bright girl like you could go anywhere she wanted.”

“I’ll certainly think about it,” I say, as I gather my notepad and pens and stand up to leave the office.

“Good,” he says, decisively. “I’ll see you in a month for what should be our last check in before publication. Until then, I’m on email as always.”

“Thanks, Alexi,” I say.

“That’s the spirit, Charity,” he says as I head out into the corridor.

The door swings closed behind me and then once more I’m alone with my thoughts. And it’s only then that I truly realize that even with the whole world at my feet, I don’t want to leave New York.

I’ve arranged to meet Gabby after my meeting with Professor Lane. I have to high-tail it down the corridor and over to the coffee shop on campus where we’ve agreed to meet, because I’m a few minutes late. I guess things must have overrun while we were talking about my future.

And I know Gabby won’t mind me being just a few minutes late, especially when I’ve got such exciting news to tell her.

I’m slightly flushed and out of breath when I finally get to the coffee shop and see her already sitting there.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” I say, as I take my seat and begin to fill her in on all my exciting developments.

“Wow, that all sounds
amazing
!” Gabby says, when I tell her about all the places Professor Lane suggested I could work. “So? Where do you think you might go?”

“Well, that’s the thing,” I reply. “I’ve never really been a city person, but I don’t feel ready to leave New York right now. And I’m not sure why.”

“I’ll tell you one thing,” Gabby says, “it’s certainly not our spacious low-rent apartment.”

I laugh.

“You’ve got that right,” I say. “Even if I stay here, we’re gonna have to move. That place is driving me mad.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, Charity,” she says, “but are you sure that there isn’t one very tall and handsome reason that you don’t want to leave this city?”

“You mean Chase,” I sigh.

“Yes, I mean Chase. You have to admit you’re not over him yet.”

“Okay,” I say, “I might not be
totally
over him, but I’m getting there.”

“You didn’t sound very over him last night,” she blurts out.

“Gabby!” I say, wanting the ground to swallow me up.

“Well, it’s true. You know how thin our walls are. I was trying to sleep, but
somebody
kept me awake. And you know what, Charity? You sounded like you were having a pretty good time.”

“Guilty,” I say. “But it was a one-night thing.
Not
to be repeated. I told him I wasn’t interested in seeing him again this morning. I made myself really clear. He definitely got the message.”

“But are you sure it was the right message to give?” she says gently.

“Yes!” I say without hesitating. “I’ve wasted too much of my life moping after him.”

“Okay, I get it,” she replies. “I understand. I do. He broke your heart all those years ago. And then you find him. And guess what, he does it again. Why wait around for him to do it a third time.”

“Exactly,” I say, slamming my palm on the table in agreement.

“So,” she continues, “the Chase from your past — he doesn’t deserve a third chance. But I’m not so sure that the Chase living in New York right now is even the same guy. And maybe he
does
deserve a
second
chance ...”