Chasing Spring(51)

“Y’know, the only thing I know for sure is that I’m getting the hell out of this town.”

Their mouths dropped and I offered a wave.

“I’ve gotta run, but enjoy your dessert. I’d probably go for the cupcakes if I were you.”

The cupcakes were safe. They were fluffy, innocent desserts. It was the blackcurrant macaroons that signaled a buy.

…

When I got home from the bakery, I went out to inspect the progress of my garden with Harvey by my side. The plants were growing like mad, overtaking the beds and soaking up every drop of water I gave them. I dropped the hose in one of the beds and headed for my raspberry vines. I'd planted four bushes along the fence line so the vines could climb up around the wooden planks. The raspberries were growing slowly, on their own terms. Out of all my plants, I was most like those raspberries vines.

I ran my finger along the budding vines and then forced myself to finish watering the rest of the garden. Once every bed was soaked, I kicked off my shoes and went in to feed Harvey an early dinner. My dad wasn’t home from the baseball game yet and the house was too quiet; there was nothing to help drown out the negative thoughts overtaking my mind. I leaned against the counter and replayed my conversation with Mrs. White until I couldn’t stand it any longer.

I hated Mrs. White, but she wasn’t the only one who didn’t want me to end up with Chase. It confused everyone. It ruined their perfect image of what life should be. Chase was supposed to marry a prom queen, take over the Blackwater Ford dealership, and run for city government. Me? I was supposed to turn into my mother.

It wasn’t a novel idea; I thought about the possibility of becoming her every single day. It was easy to see the similarities, but every time I indulged myself, my logic would eventually kick in. I wasn’t her. I knew that. Still, people viewed me as her spawn. I’d been branded as trouble from the start.

I was standing at my bedroom window, contemplating the opinions of my small town when Chase’s truck pulled up into the driveway. I watched him hop out and my heart kicked up a notch, an innate reaction to his presence. He looked up to see me standing in the window and waved before picking up the pace to get inside.

I kept my gaze on the spot where he’d stood smiling up at me and tried to shove down the secret clawing its way to the front of my thoughts. Loving Chase wasn’t a choice. Every day, I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, took a deep breath, and shouldered the weight of my love for him. Even after everything we’d been through, that was my biggest secret, the one I tried to drown in my journal.

I loved the golden boy. I woke up loving him and I drifted to sleep loving him, but having that love returned, letting that love blossom wasn’t a possibility. Even if we could work our way through our past, no one thought I was good enough for him—and honestly, I wasn’t.

When I heard Chase open the front door and bound up the stairs, my excitement to see him momentarily displaced the sadness. My door knob twisted and I turned to find him standing in my doorway with a broad smile.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

He took a moment to catch his breath, his broad chest rising and falling beneath his jersey.

“I saw you at my game. Just like I’ve seen you at all the games.”

I crossed my arms and shrugged. “It’s not a big deal. I don’t have anything else to do on Saturday afternoons.”

Chase smirked and pushed off the door with dangerous intent.

I held up my hands to stop him, but I knew it was a worthless attempt. “I can smell you from all the way over here!”

He smiled wider and stepped close. “Is your dad home?”

I swallowed. “No.”

He reached out for my waist, gripping it in his hands and tugging me against him.

“Chase, my dad will flip,” I said, pretending I was more concerned about my dad coming home than Chase's hands on my hips.

He dipped down to kiss my cheek, his fingers spinning slow circles along my lower back, driving me mad.

“I thought you said he wasn’t home.”

I was slipping away. Chase was…

“I—”

My thoughts and speech jumbled together into a mess of inaction. I wanted to push him away, to remind myself of the facts, but Chase’s lips were on my cheek and my neck and then they hovered over mine, waiting for my permission so gently I thought I would crumble.

“You stink,” I teased, trying to lighten the moment.

He laughed and took a step back, lifting his uniform up and tugging it over his head.

My eyes widened.

“Wait—what are you doing?” I asked, keeping steady eye contact with his face.

He shrugged innocently. “Undressing so I can take a shower.”

“Do that in the bathroom,” I argued as he worked on the belt of his baseball pants. My breath caught in my throat at the knowledge that if he pushed the subject, I'd be a total goner. I could see the dip of his torso, the hard lines of his abs, and suddenly I didn’t want to fight against us. I stepped forward and hauled my body against him so that he had to catch me against the door. It rattled in its hinges as I wrapped my hands around his neck.

He laughed into my mouth as we kissed, completely mad for each other. His hands tugged my shirt up and I laughed as it got caught on my head for a few seconds.

“Good, just stay like that,” Chase joked, not helping me tug it off.