Wright Kind of Trouble, page 11
So, I helped her into the passenger side and drove home.
It had nothing to do with wanting her there.
Nothing at all.
15
Harley
“Chase?”
He kept his eyes on the road as he pulled into his neighborhood. “Hmm?”
My head was spinning a million miles a minute. I couldn’t believe he was here. I couldn’t believe we were going to his house. I couldn’t believe any of it.
I leaned across the seat. His hand was on the stick shift, and I threaded my fingers through his on top of it. He breathed out heavily, but didn’t move it.
“Can we call a truce?”
“A truce?” he asked.
“Mmhmm.”
“What is involved in this truce?”
“You fuck me.”
He choked on a laugh. “Harley, you’re drunk.”
“I’m not that drunk.”
His eyes shot to mine in disbelief. “Uh-huh.”
Okay. I was that drunk. I had a line of black Sharpie marks up my arm that listed all the drinks I’d had. Way too many. I’d almost thrown up halfway through the night, and my head was still spinning.
But God, I wanted his cock inside of me. I wanted it so fucking bad. Like I’d never wanted it before.
He parked the Porsche in the garage and came around to the passenger side as I tried to step out. Instead, I nearly ate it, barely catching myself on the door to his Subaru.
“Fuck,” I bit out.
“Come here. I got you.”
I tried to step toward him and tumbled forward again. He caught me in his arms before I could fall. I started giggling. Suddenly, it was all hilarious.
He shook his head, kicked the door closed, and lifted me effortlessly into his arms.
“Oh!” I gasped.
I was a rag doll, limp, my head lolling back. The whole world felt upside down.
“I’ve never had this much to drink in my life.”
“I can believe that,” he said as he carried me across the threshold.
“It’s so freeing to not care.”
He pursed his lips. “How so?”
“I always care so fucking much.” My hands knotted in the leather jacket. “I have to be perfect. In school, I have to maintain a 4.0. I need to keep my scholarship. I have to get into the best law school.”
“I understand that life. I went through that.”
“Yeah. Yale. Where did you go to law school?”
“UT Austin.”
“That’s a good school.”
“My dad was disappointed,” he said flatly.
“Fuck him.”
Chase laughed. “Yes, well, I mean to say that you can only make the decision for yourself.”
“I don’t even know if I want to be a lawyer.”
The words hit me in the gut. The words I’d never uttered to anyone. Certainly not to my mom, who had slaved to get me the best education so I could pursue my dream. Or my brothers, who always believed I would change the world. Definitely not to my dad, who I never told anything.
It was hard enough, admitting it to myself. Let alone to someone else.
“You don’t have to decide today,” he said wisely.
I just laughed. “No one makes you think you have time to wait.”
“No one else matters right now.”
“Just you?”
“Just you,” he corrected. “Can you stand?”
“Maybe.”
He tried to put me down on my feet in the living room, and my legs gave out.
He chuckled and set me down on the infamous leather couch. “What are we going to do with you?”
“I can think of a few things.”
He ignored me and then began to slowly unlace the heeled boots that brought the entire outfit together. He pulled one shoe off and then the other.
“That seems a little safer,” he said.
I came to my feet again, turned toward the bedroom, promptly tripped on the couch, and fell face-first into it. My ass was hanging high in the air. I was wearing basically nothing but a scrap of red-and-blue fabric.
“Oops,” I said.
Chase slipped his hands around my waist, pulled me back to my feet, and then lifted me over his shoulder. “You’re a mess, Wright.”
“My head is spinning.”
“We’ll get you taken care of.”
“Is it bad that I might not want to be a lawyer?”
“It’s fine. Law degrees are overrated.”
“You have a law degree,” I pointed out.
“That I’m not currently using. So, it doesn’t matter. You don’t need one unless you want to practice law. You can accomplish all your dreams without it. I promise it’s not something you go into lightly. It’s the worst three years of your life. So, you need to know.”
“Oh.”
“But you don’t need to know now. You have time.”
As soon as Chase opened the door to his bedroom, Bowie raced around our feet. Chase smiled and tried to brush his dog off, but Bowie was unperturbed. I giggled, reaching for him over Chase’s shoulder.
He grunted as I nearly toppled backward out of his arms, and he tossed me onto his enormous bed. Bowie bounded onto it, licking my face.
“Good boy!”
Chase shook his head. “Off the bed, Bow. Come on. Let’s go out.”
Chase was gone for a minute, and I collapsed backward. Why was I having a serious conversation about law school when I was drunk and just wanted dick? I really needed to let that go and focus on what mattered right now.
Like lying in Chase Sinclair’s bed.
When Chase returned, he’d ditched the jacket and fedora.
“No Indy for me?” I asked on a pout.
He raised an eyebrow. “You’re into Indiana Jones?”
“What woman isn’t?”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” He strode to the bed and looked down at me with conflict in his eyes. “Now, what are we going to do with you?”
“You could just do me,” I said, turning his words around. I sat up, reaching for his belt and tugging him closer.
“You make this very difficult,” he said as if he were truly suffering.
I smirked. “Good.”
“Now, who is toying with whom?”
“It’s my birthday,” I said, sliding the belt out of the loop.
“I realize it is your birthday.”
“And I’m here.”
“Yes,” he said.
I popped the button on his pants. “And I want you.”
He clenched his jaw. “But…”
I dragged the zipper down. “You want me.”
“That’s not the point.”
“It feels like the point,” I said as I tugged his shirt out from the waist of his pants. “It feels like the whole point actually.”
“You’re going to regret this in the morning.”
But my mouth was on his heated skin, a kiss to the V that led down to what I really wanted. He groaned, and I pressed my palm against his cock. He was already getting hard for me.
“I don’t believe in regrets,” I said.
“Harley…”
I looked up at him, my hand on his lengthening cock. “Fuck me. Fuck me like you mean it.”
His head dropped back. I swore I saw torture cross his face. As if he was in physical pain at my words.
“I…” He growled in the back of his throat. “I didn’t bring you here for that.” Then, he stepped back, away from me, and refastened his pants.
“I deserve a present.”
“I got you a present.”
I blinked up at him. “What?”
“I wasn’t sure I’d see you to give it to you,” he said. “But I thought, on the off chance I did…” Then, he removed a small blue box from his pocket.
Even I wasn’t drunk enough not to recognize Tiffany’s.
“What is it?” I whispered.
“Open it and find out.”
My fingers slipped on the white ribbon as I pulled it loose and then popped the top. Inside was the letter H on a circular silver pendant attached to a long chain.
I must have stared at it, speechless, a bit too long because he said, “You don’t like it.”
He reached for it, and I yanked it back, holding it to my chest.
“No, I love it. It’s mine.”
“Good,” he said with relief in his voice.
“Put it on me?”
I turned on the bed as best I could, moving the ridiculous pigtails out of the way. He slid the necklace into place and clasped it from behind. It settled like it had always belonged there.
I stroked the H and then looked back at him over my shoulder. “You’re going to give this to a girl and not get in bed?”
“I’ll get in bed,” he finally conceded. “But just to sleep.”
“Okay,” I relented.
“Let me get you something to sleep in.” He walked into his closet and came out with an oversize T-shirt and shorts. “Here.”
I took the clothes out of his hands and arched an eyebrow. “Are you going to watch?”
“Oh, uh…I’ll just…”
Then, he returned to the closet.
I giggled and tugged on the T-shirt. It came down to my knees, so I opted out of the shorts and crawled into bed. As soon as my head hit the pillow, the entire night came back to me in a head-pulsing mess.
Oh no.
Oh no, no, no…
“You ready?” Chase asked, stepping back into the room, shirtless.
“Um…”
Then, I hurried past him and hurled the entire contents of my stomach into his toilet. I groaned as I continued to bring up more and more alcohol. When I thought I was finally done, I flushed and staggered away from the toilet. Chase had a spare toothbrush waiting for me next to a bottle of Gatorade and two Tylenol.
“My hero,” I whispered.
I downed the Tylenol and brushed my teeth. Then, I found a washcloth and removed as much of my makeup as I could manage. After, I carried the Gatorade to bed, hugging it to my chest like a life raft. “I feel awful.”
“Based on the marks on your arm, I’d assumed you would.”
He took the Gatorade from me, set it down, and pulled back the covers. I sank onto the bed with a groan. Then, with a gentleness I barely knew how to process, he removed the hair ties from my hair, letting my locks fall to my shoulders, tucked my legs up into the bed, and pulled the covers over me.
“You’re being so nice.”
His expression softened. “Believe it or not, I care about you.”
“Yeah, but…”
“No but,” he said. “Just get some rest.”
“Wait,” I said as he crossed the room. “Where are you going?”
He grinned. “To get the lights. I’m coming back.”
I relaxed back at that pronouncement. He flipped the lights off and got into the bed. His hand rubbed my back, soothing me toward unconsciousness. I felt blackout approaching.
“Chase,” I murmured.
“Hmm?”
“Graduation, right?”
He was silent, his hand stilling on my back. “I don’t expect you to wait, Harley. I want you to live your life.”
“I’m studying abroad in London next semester.”
“Good,” he said without hesitation.
“But you’ll wait?” I whispered.
He was silent for long enough that I thought he might have fallen asleep.
“I’ll wait,” he confirmed.
And then I fell into oblivion.
16
Harley
June
“Mom, it’s not a date,” I insisted.
“You’re wearing eyeliner. You blew out your hair. You’re in a dress,” Mom pointed out, leaning against the doorframe to my childhood bedroom.
“And?”
“And you don’t do those things for just anyone. You’ve been back from London for three weeks, and I haven’t seen you in anything but lounge clothes or a suit for that law office.”
I shrugged. “It’s just a friend.”
“A friend who is a boy.”
“Yes.”
“Who is coming all the way to Seattle to see you.”
“Well, no. He’s visiting friends in town.”
“You’re his friend, and he’s visiting you.”
I rolled my eyes. “It isn’t a date. I’m going to show him around downtown. We’re getting lunch. It’s no big deal.”
“Do I get to meet Mr. No Big Deal?”
I stalled at that thought. What would my mom think if she saw Chase Sinclair? No one knew we were even friends. Let alone anything else that had happened. Mom probably wouldn’t be happy that he was so much older than me. But I hadn’t been lying when I said it wasn’t a date. He wasn’t in Seattle for me. But…I didn’t mind seeing him.
It had been a long semester abroad with the time difference. I’d had my fun, like he’d insisted I should have. I’d lived my life. But still…my heart remembered that graduation was only around the corner.
“If he’s just a friend, then I can meet him.”
“Fine,” I said on a laugh. I put on the H necklace Chase had given me for my birthday, clasping it behind my neck and letting the pendant dangle low. “If you want to meet him, Mom.” I pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I love you.”
“I love you, too. Have fun, sweetheart.”
My phone dinged, and I saw the text from Chase, saying he was outside. “Okay. He’s here. I’ll see you later, Mom.”
My mom shot me a look of amusement, but I ignored it and headed outside. Chase was idling in a blue Porsche that matched the red one he had at home. Only he would spend the money on a rental this fancy.
“Nice car,” I said, slipping into the passenger seat.
“You know I like my cars.”
“I do.”
He smiled down at me. “Good to see you.”
I swallowed. “It is.”
I eyed him, my heart in my throat. Eight months since I’d seen him, five thousand miles apart, and a six-hour time difference, and it was like no time had passed at all. He was in dark denim, a white button-up, and boots. Ray-Bans covered his baby-blue eyes. His blond hair was short and brushed to the side, but he had a five-o’clock shadow that I’d never seen on him before. My hand came out and brushed across the stubble.
“Growing a beard?” I asked.
He inhaled sharply and rubbed his jaw. “Nah, just a late flight last night, and I didn’t feel like shaving this morning. Should I get rid of it?”
I shook my head. “No, it looks good on you.”
He smirked. “Noted.” His hand came out to brush against the H necklace he’d given me. “You still wear it?”
I flushed slightly. “Yeah. It’s my favorite.”
His face was unreadable for a second before a pleased smile slowly crossed his lips. “Good. Now, where are we headed?”
And that good made my entire body turn to goo.
I gave him directions to downtown, and soon, we were pulling into a parking garage near Pike Place Market. It wasn’t my usual haunt, but it was classic Seattle. If friends were visiting, this was where you brought them.
We strode through the quintessential sign with Public Market Center in bright red letters before stepping into the open-air market. We walked past the markets with fish that had come fresh off the boats that morning, a variety of butcher-paper-clad flower vendors, as well as fresh produce, shops, and restaurants. Finally, we stopped at my favorite mom-and-pop shop and ordered lunch. When our food came out, we took it to an outdoor patio with big red umbrellas to block the afternoon sun. The fish was as incredible as ever. It was one of the big things I missed about the city when I was in Lubbock.
I cajoled Chase into ice cream cones. I got strawberry, and he got chocolate. For once, the sun was shining without a cloud in the sky. It probably wouldn’t last long. It never did. But right now, it was a perfect day.
“So, the friends you’re visiting,” I said as we strolled the pier, “when are you meeting them?”
“Tonight for dinner. We have a reservation for seven.”
“That sounds fun.”
“Yeah. They had to take their son to a baseball tournament for most of the day.”
“So, you can spend the day with me.”
His eyes tracked me as I took a long lick of my ice cream. The heat melting the soft cream faster than I could lick up.
He cleared his throat. “Uh, yes. Lucky that way.” He ran his tongue along the cone to keep it from melting in a similar fashion to mine.
I swallowed, remembering precisely what that tongue could do to my body. I didn’t entirely remember everything that had happened the night of my birthday. But I remembered throwing myself at him like I’d die without his dick. I’d woken the next morning, mortified by my behavior.
But it didn’t mean it had been a lie.
I was the living definition of distance makes the heart grow fonder.
I leaned against the railing that looked out over the harbor beyond. Ice cream was melting toward my hand, and I lapped it up. Our eyes met again, and I could tell that he was thinking the same fucking thing as me.
I needed to change the subject.
“How do you know these friends?”
“Yale,” he said quickly. “Curt was my roommate freshman year. He’s a marine biologist now.”
“That’s a fun job. Why didn’t we decide to go into a fun career?”
He laughed. “No one ever said law was fun—that’s for sure.”
“But most people aren’t basically running a company at thirty either,” I pointed out.
“Touché.” He tipped his ice cream cone to me in salute. A trail of chocolate ran down his thumb. He cursed under his breath and brought the digit to his mouth.
My mouth went dry as he licked the offending cream off of his finger. I crossed one leg over the other in hopes of stopping the pulsing in my core. Fuck.
“Are you still set on law?” he asked.
I jerked my head back to my own ice cream. “I mean, I took the LSAT in February, and I’m studying all summer to take it in July.”
