One Small Thing(74)

I glare at him. “Please don’t act like a jerk. I’m risking permanent grounding to be here right now.”

“I didn’t ask you to risk anything,” he grumbles. “That’s on you.”

“Gee, I’m so sorry I wanted to make sure you were all right.” Sarcasm drips from my tone. “Forgive me for caring about you. How dare I!”

His lips twitch. “You done?”

“Nope.” I inject more snark into my voice and say, “The nerve of me!” Then I smile sweetly. “There. Now I’m done.”

With a sigh, he leads me over to the bed and we sit on the edge of it. “You don’t have to worry about me,” he assures me. “I’m fine.”

I moan in misery. “No, you’re not. You got fired.”

“Yes. And I’m fine. I’ll find something else.”

I moan again.

“Seriously, Beth. It’s all good.” He nods at the door. “Jack already said I can join him on the crew again for the next few months. Lots of yard cleanups to do and then snow removal season’s coming up.”

That makes me feel better. Jack had previously hooked Chase up with a job at his landscaping company, but that was only for the summer. “So you’ll have a job?”

“I’ll have a job.”

Relief flutters through me, but it fades into anger pretty fast. “I can’t believe my dad called the shelter and had you fired. He’s such an asshole.”

“No, he’s just protective of you.” Chase’s face is grim. “I already took one kid from him.”

“Not on purpose. It was an accident.”

“Accident or not, I was still at fault. I was driving too fast.” His voice cracks slightly. “When she ran into the road, there was no way I could’ve stopped.”

“I wonder why,” I say suddenly.

That brings a frown to his lips. “Why what?”

“Why she was running.” An ache forms in my chest as I picture Rachel racing into the middle of the dark street, unaware that she was about to die. She and Jeff had been at a party at her friend Aimee’s house that night. As far as I know, Rachel wasn’t drinking or on drugs.

“Do you think she was upset? Not paying attention?” I ask. An unformed thought floats in the back of my mind, but I can’t grasp it.

“It doesn’t matter if she was,” Chase says gently. “If I wasn’t speeding, I could’ve stopped in time. But I was sixteen and stupid and I hit a girl with a car I stole.” He shakes his head, at himself, I think. “Of course your father hates me, Beth. He’ll always hate me. He should.”

Every word hurts my chest, like someone’s scraping my heart with a dull razor. I hate how resigned he sounds. Even worse, how he thinks he deserves to be hated.

“I don’t hate you,” I whisper.

“I know you don’t.” He eases closer and rests his cheek on my shoulder. His soft hair tickles the bottom of my chin. “But you should, too.”

“Never,” I say fiercely.

Sighing, he lifts his head to look at me. “You’re the most stubborn person I’ve ever met.”

“So?”

A grin springs to his lips. “So? That’s your answer?”

“What else do you want me to say? No, I’m not? We both know I’m stubborn as fuck.”

He chuckles and pulls me toward him, surprising me with a quick kiss on the lips.

My heart jumps to my throat, and I instantly loop my arms around his neck so he can’t get away. “That’s twice in one day,” I tease.

“Twice what?”

“Twice that we’ve kissed,” I clarify. Grinning, I kiss him again and pull back. “Make that three.”

He leans in and presses his mouth to mine. When our tongues meet, I whimper.

“Make that four,” he rasps against my lips.

After that, we stop keeping count. Neither of us came upstairs for this reason, but we can’t fight it. Maybe it’s this house, this bedroom, this off-limits neighborhood. Whatever it is, I can’t keep my hands off him. And he can’t keep his hands off me. At some point, we need to stop.

But not now. Not for a long time.

Unfortunately, I’m the only one thinking that way. Chase draws away, setting me a firm arm’s length from his big, warm body. “I think...” He trails off.

I lean in. “You think what?”

He gets up. “I think this has to be the last time.”

“The last time for what?” I ask, hoping he can’t hear the panic in my voice.

“The last time we see each other.”

The panic surfaces in full force. “Absolutely not.”

“Beth—”

“No,” I interrupt. “We’re not going to stop seeing each other. We’re going to see each other every day for the rest of senior year, and then we’re moving to Iowa together. I’m going to be a vet and you’ll be a welder and we’ll be blissfully happy. End of story.”

“Your father will keep coming after me. And if you keep sneaking out to see me, he’ll keep punishing you.”

“I don’t care. He can’t ground me any more than he already has.”