More Than I Could (28)

“No.”

Tabitha smiles. “No problem, Chase.”

“Hey,” I protest as she walks away. “That was unnecessary.”

“If I hadn’t shown up, you would’ve eaten your sandwich. Do you want a to-go box?”

I stand. “No. Cold grilled cheeses aren’t great. However, my mom told me you have many options in the next town over. I might head that way this evening and check it out.”

“Sounds good. I’ll follow you out,” he says, motioning for me to take the lead to the door.

The afternoon is warmer than it was during my walk. The bright sun filters through the colored leaves and makes them look magical. It lifts my spirits as Chase stands beside me on the sidewalk.

I inhale, hoping to get a cleansing lungful of air. But I get a straight shot of Chase’s cologne—my kryptonite.

My stomach pulls. I wish he didn’t smell so divine.

“Tomorrow,” I say.

He nods. “Tomorrow.”

“See you then.”

“See you,” he repeats and heads to his truck.

I walk across the street, aware he’s watching me. I might shake my ass a little for his benefit. After all, this is the last time he can check me out per our agreement.

My lips twitch.

This might be fun. Chase is off-limits, so there’s no hope that anything will blossom between us. I’m too smart to get attached to him because I’m leaving in thirty days—on to bigger and brighter things than a small town in the middle of nowhere.

If it all works out, it’s exactly what I need. It’s time, money, and a chance to make plans. Maybe I can even have a bit of fun while I get my life sorted. What harm can come of this? I don’t want anything Chase has.

Well, maybe I do want some of it.

I laugh.

Let’s hope I have more self-restraint than I think I do.





Chapter Eleven





Chase




Relax, Chase. For fuck’s sake.

I rinse the breakfast skillet and set it in the strainer beside the sink. Water gurgles down the drain, sucking the remaining suds with it. A part of me wishes I could slip down the pipes in one of the bubbles and get as far away from this place as possible.

I reasoned at three this morning that a large part of my frustration with this whole Megan situation is my lack of control. Frankly, I don’t have any. What’s worse is that I can’t demand control or make moves to get more of it without being a complete and utter dick.

Not that I give a shit about that, except I won’t be a dick to my mother.

“Can I go to Neve’s?” Kennedy’s voice echoes through the kitchen, taking me by surprise. “Her mom can pick me up.”

My head hangs for a split second before I turn to face her.

“No, Ken. You know Megan is coming.”

My daughter stands on the other side of the room. Her hands are pulled into the sleeves of a sweatshirt that’s three sizes too big for her, and she gives me a look like I’m the dopiest person on the planet.

This is going to be fun. I grip the counter behind me and steady myself for battle.

“From what I understand, she’ll be here for twenty-nine more days, right?” she asks, her dark hair swishing across her shoulders as she speaks. “Pretty sure we can get to know each other tomorrow.”

“Can we not do this?”

“I just want to go to Neve’s.”

“You were there last night.”

“And you made me come home.”

Because I don’t trust that Neve’s mom will make sure she stays home all night. I scratch the top of my head and give another thought to jumping down the drain.

“This is going to ruin my life, isn’t it?” she asks, crossing her arms over her stomach. “This whole Gram being gone and Megan thing will ruin everything.”

“No—”

“I don’t need a babysitter, you know. You need me to have one because you don’t trust me.”

I drop my hand and stand tall.

Usually, Kennedy has the sense to back up when I don’t relent. She might sneak out later or skip school, but she doesn’t typically go toe-to-toe with me.

Perfect time to level up your teenage drama, child. I’m irritated anyway.

“Yeah, you’re right,” I say, holding her gaze. “I don’t trust you.”

Her jaw falls to the floor.

“I’ve told you a million times. Give me a reason to trust you, and I will.”

“What do you mean?” she asks, her voice shrill. “I always give you reasons, but you won’t see them. You don’t want to see them. You want to lock me up in this house like a little kid and never let me out.”

I steal a glance at the clock. “You have to earn trust, Kennedy.”

“I just want to go to Neve’s.”

“And I just wanted you not to call me from a cornfield last month—”

She rolls her eyes. “Here we go again.”

“—because you were in the car with some boy you weren’t allowed to be with in the first place, and he hydroplaned off the road and almost killed you.”

My stomach bottoms in response to the memory of Kennedy’s voice on the phone. “Daddy? I need you.”