CHASE - Volume Three (The CHASE Series Book 3) (5 page)

Chapter Eight

Alexis

As I sat on my
couch, nothing much going on, my cereal almost gone and my apartment empty, I heard a knock at my door. It wasn’t too loud, not soft either, but it was loud enough to be heard. I knew it was Travis. Why he was back I didn’t know, because I wasn’t going to let him come and get it in or whatever. In fact, I didn’t even want him to come in just to hang out. He could go booze it up with his buddies and maybe we would talk tomorrow.

I got up off the couch, ready to tell him that, and swung open the door, but before I could mutter the words “go away,” I stopped dead in my tracks.

“I don’t want t—”

My stomach dropped, butterflies and nerves coursing through my veins. I couldn’t believe it. It was…Chase. He was there, standing in front of me, looking me in the eyes, his very tired looking eyes, as neither one of us said a word. We were just staring, like we were both in awe.

He looked different, though still the same. He just looked…off, I guessed, his stubble bristly and rough, his eyes a little bloodshot and tired looking, with bags under them that would have to be checked at the gate if he tried to get on a plane. Was he okay?

“Alexis, I know you might not want to see me, and you probably hate me and want me to go jump off the top of this building or whatever, but I need to talk to you. I need to get something off of my chest. I need to speak the truth. Whether or not you want to believe it is your choice, but I have to speak it and get it off of my chest so that I can feel free,” he said.

I was speechless. I couldn’t even think of what words to say to him. I had to admit, it was good to hear his voice, his deep, slightly raspy voice. It made me feel good, warm, and I thought I missed it. Maybe it was good I didn’t send that text earlier today. Maybe fate was working out, and this was all a sign, a sign from where I didn’t know, but a sign regardless. Maybe I needed to finally hear him out. He had been trying to tell me all this time that I saw something wrong, and I even began to think that earlier, so maybe I should just listen.

“Okay,” I said calmly.

“I know you don’t want to, but—” he said, pausing. “Did you just say okay?”

“Yes, I did. I’ll listen to what you have to say. Would you like to come in?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said, in a completely shocked voice.

Chase walked inside, me locking the door behind him, and stood there rubbing his palms against his pants. He turned around, looking at me, as if he were unsure of what to do next.

“Would you like to sit down?” I asked, motioning to the couch.

“Yeah, that’d be great,” he said, as we walked over to the couch and sat down, both of us slightly turned so that we could talk to one another.

We sat there, looking at each other, as I could see Chase was stressed and trying to think of what to say. Quite honestly, I didn’t think he even thought he’d get this far. I think he thought I’d say no, slam the door in his face, and that would be the end of it. After all, I’d ignored all of his texts and pleas.

“How do I even begin? Wow. Um, I guess I’m just going to speak from the heart, as that’s all I really can do,” he said.

He took a deep breath, twiddled his thumbs, and kept looking around, his nervousness peaking. I stayed calm, giving him his time, knowing that what he was doing likely wasn’t easy for him, especially a man like him. I didn’t want to seem like a bitch, and I didn’t want to rush him. I just wanted him to say what he meant and mean what he said.

“That girl, Jasmine, who you saw me with, I met her once on a date after we first had problems. I met her at a restaurant, she was gross, and literally within ten minutes I walked out on her. She chased me down, I was in my car, and she yelled at me and tried to emasculate me and tell me I’d regret doing this and everything like that. You and I got back together, things were great, and our night together at my house, the date, was the most amazing time I’ve ever had with a woman. We had a special time, I think we can both agree,” he said.

“Yeah, we had a great time. I’ll agree to that,” I said.

“Well, the next morning I woke up, was sad you weren’t there, and went into my living room and kitchen to get breakfast. As I was there, there was a knock at my door, and I thought it was you, because of what you left there. I opened the door and there she was, Jasmine, still drunk from the previous night, in old clothes, looking like an absolute mess. I didn’t want to let her in, asking her how she even got past my gate and said that I wanted her to leave. She pushed past me, and because I don’t use force with women, she didn’t leave. I asked her a dozen times to please leave, that I didn’t want her there, and that we had a ten-minute date that meant nothing, but she didn’t care. She got on the floor and acted like a child throwing a tantrum, and I was about to blow a gasket because of it. Then, another knock came to my door. I opened it, frustrated, and saw you standing there. Your eyes…I can’t forget your eyes or the disappointment I saw in them. I knew I had hurt you, and I hadn’t even done anything wrong. I tried getting rid of that woman so many times, but she wouldn’t go. I tried to say something, to tell you and plead with you that I was being truthful, but you left, crying, and I knew things got fucked up. I made Jasmine leave, picked her up and tossed her out on the curb outside my gate, and I haven’t seen her since. I’ve tried to tell you this so many times, but it’s hard over text, and you wouldn’t answer my texts or calls or anything,” he said.

“Then what made you come here tonight, without a warning?” I asked.

“My assistant, well, friend, Brian told me to. Another person I trust told me to as well. They said that even if you don’t take me back, even if you hate me for all time, that I should at least say my piece, get this off of my chest, and move on with my life. I want to be with you, and I want you in my life, but I know that isn’t my decision. It’s yours, and I want to respect that. I just want you to know that I’m not a player, I’m not some guy who tells one woman one thing and then fools around with others while still keeping that first woman on the side, feeding her lies. I know that I’ve never had all of the answers to anything. I know we don’t have the answers to everything together. With that said, I know that we can find them together. I know that, if you gave me a chance, I could be the person you knew I could be, the person you know I am deep down,” he said.

I didn’t know what to say. I felt overwhelmed, all of this information coming at me all at once, as I tried to process his entire story, down to the last minute detail. Was he telling the truth, or was this all rehearsed? I didn’t know why it would be, considering I was nothing amazing and he’d been out with tons of women way prettier, smarter, and with a lot more money than me. It wouldn’t make sense that he’d go through all of this just to get back with me if he didn’t really mean it.

Even with all of that, though, I still had to look at the facts as I knew them. I did see that woman, Jasmine, in his house in clothes from the night before. I saw him shirtless and in pajama bottoms. Those clues were hard to ignore, and I wasn’t sure I could ever forget them. I wasn’t sure I could ever forget the pain I went through all because of this.

Even with all of that, though, even with all of the frustration, anger, and pain, I still kind of believed him, and I didn’t know why.

I looked into his eyes, his beautiful bloodshot eyes, and wondered, for a second, what he was thinking about. I wondered about his pain, his misery, and the way he felt over the past almost two weeks. I knew I had been in pain, and that I had a hard time with it, especially in the beginning, but what about him? If he were telling the truth about all of this, and I thought he was, how did he go on knowing that he was in the right, that he was telling the truth, and I wouldn’t even listen to him? To know that your chances were going down every single day, and to feel like you couldn’t release what was bottling up inside of you. I didn’t mean to, I thought he was in the wrong, but looking back, I thought he might have been more hurt than I was, and that was saying something.

“So, you really think we could bounce back from something like this? You think that we could forget all of it and just move forward?” I asked.

“No, at least not all of that. I don’t think we’ll ever just forget about all of this. I don’t think that we’ll go about our lives, never remembering this pain. Do I think we can move forward? Yes, I do, I really do. I think we can both admit things didn’t go well, talk them out, and go forward, together, holding hands, not looking back at the negative things that happened. I think that if she came back into my life, or tried to, I could get a restraining order against her, and then we’d be set. I think a lot of things, but quite frankly, I’ve said almost everything I can think to say. I’m really interested in hearing what
you
have to say, Alexis. I want to know what you think about all of this. Just me alone thinking we can move forward isn’t enough. I need you to think the same thing as well. So, with that said, what do you think about all of this? Where do we lie, and what can we do, if anything, to move forward again?” he asked.

I looked at him, looked down, and twiddled my thumbs in my lap. I bit my lower lip, deep in thought, and took myself back to all of the good, no, great, times we had together, even if they were few and far between. I thought about the way he kissed me, held me, and made me feel, a girl from a small Midwestern town. I thought about the way he smirked at me, that devilishly angelic smirk.

Maybe I needed to finally let it all out. Maybe I needed to let go of what was holding me down and fly away with him.

Chapter Nine

Chase

I plead my case, spilled
my heart out, and did everything I thought I could do to get her to take me back. I was doing everything short of begging, and honestly, some people might even think I
was
begging by the way I was talking to her. I just wanted her back, by any means necessary, and at this point, after spilling my guts out, I didn’t want her to say no. I didn’t want to leave here without being with her again. I didn’t want to face myself in the mirror later tonight wondering if I could’ve said or done more.

She was keeping to herself, looking down, playing with her fingers, like she was thinking about something. I guessed I knew what she was thinking about, but at the same time I had no idea.

“So, if we got back together, if we tried again, things would be different? How would
you
specifically be different? I mean, what’s changed since I first met you?” she asked.

“I’m not that person anymore, Alexis. Trust me, I’m far from it. I wouldn’t say I used women before, but I was guarded, not caring at all what they thought or felt. If I dated a woman and then never called her again I didn’t feel bad about it. I had been burned so many times by women in the past that I lumped them all together in the same pool, which was wrong. I thought that they all would hurt me like the others hurt me, so I decided I would get to them before they got to me, just to save myself the pain and embarrassment. Then, I don’t know, I met you and things were different. You were, and are, different from the other women I’ve dated, different in a good way, a great way, and I knew I couldn’t play you like that. Then I got scared, and we didn’t talk for a while. I hated it, but eventually we got back together and it was the greatest time of my life. We had so much fun, I always smiled when you texted me, and I was overall better. I know now that not all women out there are bad or out to get me. I know that there are still great women who just want to be with someone and love them and do their best to create something special, something lifelong, with that person. I know you’re like that. I know you’re one of those special women, and I can’t miss out on that or lose you,” I said.

Her face changed as I spilled myself to her. She seemed almost hopeful, and in turn, I felt hopeful. She didn’t seem so reserved, and she didn’t look like she did earlier when she appeared to be heavily contemplating everything. I felt as if I was swaying her to my side, the side where we could have our happily ever after, and I couldn’t be happier. The only problem, though, was that I had no idea if I was swaying her or not. All I had were facial expressions, and those weren’t enough for me. I needed to hear things from her mouth. I needed her to say that she wanted to be with me and that she forgave me and we could move forward together. I needed it…badly.

“I like that, what you have to say. You’re right that not all women are bad, just like not all men out there are bad. My only problem going forward, if we do go forward, is what we are to each other,” she said.

“I’m sorry, I don’t really know what you mean by that,” I said, with a confused tone.

“Well, before we weren’t really anything but two people having a little fun and dating one another. I think that a title like that can lead you to getting hurt or confused. After all, you can be seeing a thousand women, but at the end of the day, none of those women have a title. They aren’t anything to you but another woman, and I don’t want that,” she said.

“So you want a title? Like what, my girlfriend?” I asked.

I knew I was getting somewhere. If she didn’t want anything to do with me, or if we were going to be “just friends,” she wouldn’t say anything about titles and what we were to one another. She’d just shake my hand, pat me on the shoulder, and tell me to hit the showers. She’d treat me like a buddy and nothing more.

“Yeah, I do,” she said, kind of half smiling. “I need something more than what we were before. I need something official, something that I can be proud of and that will make sure everyone knows we’re together, and that you aren’t available or that anyone else can move in and try to get with you. I need a commitment,” she said.

I sat there, dazed, but not in a bad way. Sure, being in a relationship scared me, more than I’d like to admit, but I couldn’t, and shouldn’t, take that out on her. She had never hurt me, at least not intentionally, and she was nothing like my ex-girlfriends. She was a good woman, a great woman, and any man who had the privilege to date her was the luckiest man in the world. Still, even though I knew she was amazing, I was scared to make anything official. That was the ultimate putting it out on the line and becoming vulnerable. I was going to be off the market, unavailable, and no longer could I gallivant around being some kind of Casanova. I would be the type of guy who settled down, maybe got married one day, had a few kids, and wore striped polo shirts. For some reason, though, I kind of liked the idea.

“So, you’ll only come back to me, we can only move forward and be fine, if we’re official, in a relationship, only being with one another?” I asked.

“Yes,” she said, looking me dead in the eyes.

“Well, with that answer, I guess I just have one question for you. Will you be my girlfriend? My one and only?” I asked, smiling.

“Are you sure you mean it?” she asked.

“I’m more than positive, babe,” I said.

“Then yes. I’ll be your girlfriend,” she said, smiling.

“Wow,” I said, letting out a relieved sigh, my hands shaking slightly.

“What did you think I’d say?” she asked, holding my hand.

“I honestly didn’t think you’d even listen to me tonight. I thought you’d slam your door shut, or not answer at all, or whatever. I hoped this would happen, but I definitely didn’t think it would,” I said.

“We do have one problem, though,” she said.

“What?” I asked, my eyes wide open, my heart stopping.

“We’re dating now and you haven’t even kissed me. I mean, come on,” she said, joking.

Without hesitation I leaned in, my eyes closing, her soft, sweet cherry-tasting lips pressing up against mine, the stress, anger, and sadness I had felt over the past weeks instantly draining out of me, like she was releasing me from everything negative I had felt since I lost her. My heart felt warm, my skin soothed, and for once, I knew I was home.

We slowly pulled away, our lips still attached, slowly pulling apart, before we opened our eyes at the same time, both of our expressions relaxed, holding hands, and smiled, like we were both experiencing an intense ecstasy and bliss that could and would never be described in simple words. It was perfect. She was mine.