She might have been determined to seem totally unaffected by him, but her eyes, her body, and her breathing betrayed her attempts.
“I am, actually,” Chase said, his voice growing gravelly. As much as he was trying to keep this exchange light and flirtatious, things were heating up hotter than a jalapeño pepper. “More than I have in years.”
“I seriously doubt that.” Disbelief at his statement shone through her catlike eyes.
He could try to convince her. Tell the truth, that being with her was the only time, besides when he was onstage playing music, that he felt truly alive. Not just physically or mentally either. She awakened his soul. But he knew that they weren’t there. Yet. She would roll her eyes at him and come back with, “Nice try, sport,”—or “rock star,” which seemed to be her new preferred name for him—or some other snippy reply to diminish his heartfelt sentiment.
So instead, he looked her dead in the eyes and asked, “Are you calling me a liar?”
Something of significance flashed in her eyes. It was there for less than a second, but he’d seen it. He didn’t know what it’d meant or why she’d covered it up so quickly, but it had definitely been there.
Before he could even begin to decipher its appearance, she said, “No. You are a lot of things. A liar is not one of them.” Her last sentence was spoken almost begrudgingly.
“Really. A lot of things,” Chase repeated.
His head moved just a millimeter closer to her, being drawn like a magnet. At his small shift, her almond-shaped eyes widened with awareness. He couldn’t stop himself from brushing a stray red strand of silky hair that was lying across her forehead.
His hand fell to his side as his lips burned to taste hers, but instead of kissing her, he asked, “Care to share what things exactly?”
Her pink tongue made another appearance, sweeping across her lips. His body responded to the seductive gesture by tensing with need. He was strung tighter than he’d ever been in his life. He didn’t push her. Didn’t move. Just waited.
A war was going on behind those green-blue eyes of hers. He couldn’t be sure exactly what she was thinking, but if he were a betting man, he would say it had to do with him and continuing this conversation.
All of his senses became heightened to everything around him. The feel of the cold tile beneath his bare feet. The sweet scent of her shampoo and body lotion combined with the lemony smell of the Pine Sol he’d doused the house in. As a ‘rock star,’ he’d been offered a lot of drugs. Most of them he’d stayed away from, but years ago he had tried ecstasy, and right now, his skin felt just as sensitized as when he’d been under the influence of the drug. That’s exactly what Krista felt like to him—a drug.
He found himself holding his breath, wondering which side would win. He was hoping that whatever internal battle she was fighting would ultimately go in his favor.
Her eyes cleared and he saw that a victor had been crowned. No longer did she looked torn or unsure. “Nope,” she said simply.
Then, taking advantage of the fact that he’d removed his hand to sweep her stray strand of hair from her forehead, she turned the knob behind her back and was out the door in a flash.
“Kris—” The door shut in his face before he could even get out the first syllable of her name.
He thought about going after her, but there was no point. This was a marathon, not a sprint. His mom being in the hospital might have been what had prompted him to return to Harper’s Crossing. But now that he was here, now that he’d seen Krista again, it was not the only reason he planned on staying.
Chase knew now, more than ever before, that what Krista and he shared was not puppy love, young love, or even just first love. It was real love.
Krista might not like it. She might fight it. She might deny it. But he knew she felt it. He’d seen it in her eyes. Heard it in her voice. Felt it in her body language.
As he walked into the kitchen to get himself a drink of water, he adjusted his rock-hard length in his sweats. He knew he could take care of it on his own, but he also knew that it wouldn’t even come close to satisfying him. He sighed as he pulled a clean glass from the cupboard. He might as well get used to this. He had a feeling he was going to be living in a perpetual state of sexual frustration for the foreseeable future.
Still, a smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. If that was the price he had to pay to get a chance at being with Krista again, for good this time, he was more than happy to pay it.
Chapter Seven
Three nights in a row with no sleep sucked lemons. To say that Krista was running on fumes would imply that she was actually running, which was not true. She was barely moving.