Chase (Resisting Love #1)(67)

“Well well, if it isn’t my competition. Hello Dashy, long time no see.”

Slade. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I haven’t seen Slade for over a year. I saw him at a race two years after he left me and he treated me as though he didn’t know me. He was so cold and cruel, teasing and taunting me the entire time. I was so angry and hurt I vowed never to speak to him again. Luckily for me, he hadn’t been back…until now.

When I saw him last, he was twenty-two and hot headed, desperate to become something amazing. I slowly turn and face the man that has haunted my life and my dreams since I was a young girl. When our eyes meet, I feel a shock current jolt through me. Slade’s not a young man any more. He’s twenty-three now and oh, he’s still as beautiful as he was the day I laid eyes on him.

His lean body has now filled out with bulky muscle. His once clean skinned arms, are now boasting some seriously hot tattoos. His dark green eyes have lightened to an almost aqua colour that’s so striking, it’s mesmerizing. It’s like looking at a couple of crystals. They’re out of this world. His once short brown hair is now messy, yet it sits so perfectly on his head. His jaw is defined, his lips are full and he’s absolutely mind blowing. So mind blowing it takes me a moment to answer, but I get there. “Slade, it’s not a pleasure.”

“Dashy grew up, hell girl, you look fine.”

I hate him calling me Dashy and he knows it. He’s called me that since we were young, and once it was cute. Now…it’s painful.

“Slade,” I say, staring him right in the eye. “Why don’t you go and find someone else to chat up. I’d rather cut off my own arm, then to have you call me fine.”

His brows rise in challenge and his lips curl into a sexy, half smirk. “Dashy still has an attitude.”

“Fuck off.”

“Mama, I ask that you refrain from using that language in the shop,” the cashier says, eyes wide.

“I’m sorry.”

“What can I get you?”

“Just a coffee. Black. Strong.”

Maybe a shot of alcohol.

“So, Dashy, are you racing this year?” Slade asks and I hear his friend’s chuckle.

I turn to face him again, with a snarky smile on my face. “Now Slade, I know you didn’t finish school, but I’m fairly certain you aren’t that stupid. If you’re serious about racing, you always know who you’re up against. It’s racing law.”

His smirk fades. “I know who I’m up against, and I know who’ll win.”

“Good, then the conversation is finished.”

“You can’t beat me Dashy,” he says, “I learned from the best.”

“I could say the same,” I snap, shoving a note towards the cashier, who hands me a coffee.

“Really? How did your father teach you, when he barely leaves the couch? Let me guess, you’re off getting him alcohol right now?”

That hurts. Hits me right in the heart. I turn and storm over, and then I tip the scalding coffee all over his lap.

“I hope you rot in hell, Slade.”

Then I tear out the door, listening to his pained bellows as the coffee burns his skin. I get to my car and fumble to unlock it. I’m angry, but mostly I’m hurt. I remember a time when Slade and I got along so well. Then wining took over and it took the boy I knew with it. I feel tears burn hot as I slide into the car and turn it on, jerking it to life. I drive straight to the liquor shop and it’s the first time I wonder if I’m doing the right thing, buying this for my father. Damn you Slade. Damn you.