Reluctantly in Love (33 page)

Almost two months later, and I still missed him as deeply as I had the day I drove him away. Two months, and it might be too late. I’d never felt this kind of anxiety before. The shoe-dropper. The deep, pit of the stomach kind of panic.

This was no time to worry about the fashion police. Did it matter that my pajamas said
Booty Rocker
across my butt? Hell no. This was serious shit. This was
Operation Win Chase Back.

My speech sounded disjointed in my head; I hoped it would sound better out loud in the heat of the moment. I decided to keep it simple:
I love you. I’m sorry. I’m an ass-hat. I’m sorry. I love you.

Chase’s house was dark, and his car wasn’t in the driveway, but I went to the door anyway. Hopeful I hadn’t missed him.
He has to be here.
I knocked and knocked, but no one answered.

I sat in my SUV, popping strawberry-flavored breath mints like candy.
What the hell do I do now?

I’d had three weeks to come up with an amazing plan to win Chase back, but I’d twiddled my thumbs. Like a coward. Something told me I had to find him right now. That I might never get another chance to fix things with him.

He’s on a date.
The idea of it made my insides turn.

I dialed Gen again. When she answered, I said, “Can you find out where he went on a date?”

“Huh?”

“I want to know where he took his date.” I could hear the note of panic in my voice.

“Hold on.” She whispered something, probably to Matt. Then to me, she said, “Matt said he’s not sure.”

“Do you think he can find out?” I sounded like I was five seconds from tossing up my supper.

“Wait, are you planning on crashing his
date
?”

Why the hell did she sound so pleased? I was having a panic attack!

“Yes. I’m going to profess my undying love.” Okay, that had sounded better in my head.

“Oh my God, are you serious?”

I cranked the heater. I’d rushed out without grabbing a coat.

“Gen, I love you, but you are not helping my nerves right now. Can you just tell me how to find Chase? Without telling him why? I mean, I’d like to do that myself.”

More whispering. “Matt says he went to a Christmas party for work.”

“He took his date to his Christmas party?”

“I don’t know. That’s just what he said.”

I started my car and whipped away from the curb. “Where?”

“You can’t crash the party,” Gen said, sounding worried.

“I’m not going to crash the party. I’ll just park outside and wait for him to come out.”

“Like a stalker?”

“Exactly.”

She laughed. “It’s nice to see the old you back.”

“What? I’ve never stalked anyone before.” Well, not for personal reasons. On the job, yes. But that was for a paycheck.
This is for love.

“No, I mean, you sound like yourself—whacky.”

“Wow, thanks.” I had no idea where I was going, but turned toward downtown. “Ask Matt where the party is.”

She gave me an address and I hung up.

I rounded the block twice in search of a parking spot. The promised snow now fell in large, fluffy flakes. I slowed at the sight of red taillights that flashed on in front of the restaurant. When a Beemer backed out and drove off, I swooped in to take its place in a slot off to the side of the party room. The big window was decorated in garland and red velvet ribbons. Inside, the room was full of people mingling and laughing. A big tree had been set up near the window and decorated with twinkling lights. I leaned over the console to unzip my work bag and pulled out my camera. Going for the camera was habit—the binoculars would have worked just as well in this situation.

Looking through the scope, I searched for Chase, but didn’t find him. Maybe he’d already left with his date and I just missed him.
Shit, shit, shit.

After what could have only been ten minutes but felt more like thirty, my impatience and frustration got the best of me. I yanked the keys out of the ignition and draped the camera around my neck. A fat snowflake landed on the tip of my nose. I didn’t stop to brush it off. By the time I made it to the door of the restaurant, my black hair was covered in a blanket of white.

The maître d’ raised her brows and did a quick sweep of my ensemble.

I raised the camera. “I’m here to take pictures of the party.”

She didn’t look as if she believed me. What kind of professional photographer came to a photo shoot in her pajamas? I breezed past her before she could say anything. The party room was separated from the main dining area by a hallway that also led to the bathrooms on one end and another smaller event room at the other end. I stood to the side of the party room, sucking in deep breaths in an effort to gain some clarity on how to infiltrate Chase’s party without making a spectacle of myself.

Really, Roxanna? Are you really doing this?

Damn straight. I had to do this. This is what big girls did when they fell in love and screwed it all to hell.

I leaned to peek around the doorway and took a quick sweep of the room.

My vantage point wasn’t the best. Most everyone was gathered around the tree across the room, but some mingled at the bar set up by the large brick fireplace. In the corner nearest me, a cake table was set up at a diagonal. Beside a display of stacked presents wrapped in red, green, and gold paper was a tiered cake topped with a spun sugar Santa Claus. Next to the cake, white cake plates and silverware were laid out.

I lifted the hood on my sweatshirt and pulled it over my head. Before I could change my mind, I slinked into the room. With the music and laughter and the man handing out gifts at the other end of the room, I doubted anyone would notice me. Just in case, I held the camera up and snapped pictures without the flash on. If anyone asked, I was here taking pictures, not looking for my ex.

I scooted sideways against the wall and slid behind the cake table, then peeked around the presents display to scope out the room again.

Chase was nowhere in sight. I was equally relieved and disappointed. Coming here had been a bad idea. I hadn’t thought things through.

“Damn it,” I mumbled.

My view was obstructed by big hair and glaring eyes behind horn rimmed glasses. I lowered the camera and came face to face with Sarah, the clinic’s receptionist. It’d been months since I last saw her, when my head had been adorned with a bloodied plaid shirt.

“What are you doing?” Sarah’s narrowed gaze searched mine.

I held up the camera. “Just taking pictures.”

She made a sweeping gaze from my hooded sweatshirt to my sweatpants. “We didn’t hire a camera person.”

I flashed her a radiant smile. “Well, someone did.”

She cocked her head as her eyes registered recognition. “You look familiar. Do I know you?”

“Excuse me.” I pressed the camera to my face and snapped her picture. “I better get going. I think I have everything I need for the . . . Better Business Bureau holiday spread.”

“The what?” she asked, but I ignored her.

I swung around to make my great escape, the camera flying out from the strap around my neck. The lens caught the edge of a shiny gold present, knocking it loose from the pile. It landed on the cake, a corner wedged into the second tier. A red present fell in the opposite direction and landed on the floor next to the table.

“Oh, shit,” I mumbled, louder than I meant to. A few people nearby turned to see what the commotion was about. I grasped the strings to my hoodie and pulled. The hood cinched closed, concealing most of my face. I side-stepped around the table the way I’d come in. “Uh, sorry about that. I’ll send in a waitress to help clean up the mess.”

I fled the scene of the crime. If I could just get out the door. . .

“Roxanna?”

I froze in the doorway at the sound of my name on Chase’s lips. But then I had a horrific thought—what if he thinks I’m stalking him? Which, of course, I was. I didn’t stop, and rushed through the hallway, past the maître d’, and out the front door. The wet snow had become a slick sheet of ice on the sidewalk, and my feet flew out from beneath me. I landed hard on my butt, the palms of my hands barely cushioning my fall.

“
Ooowww,
” I moaned.

A set of hands grabbed me by the arms and hauled me to my feet. My hands went straight to my butt, rubbing the sore muscles.

“Thanks.” I had to tilt my head up since the hood covered my eyes.

“What are you doing here?” Chase took the hood by the opening and pulled it loose to uncover my face. He smoothed the hood off of my head.

The instant the blue eyes I’d missed so much these last two months connected with mine, I sucked in a breath. I almost threw myself at him, but the firm set of his jaw kept my feet grounded in place.

“I, uh, thought maybe you’d like some pictures of your party?” I held up the camera hanging around my neck.

His gaze didn’t break from mine—and he wasn’t smiling. “That was very generous of you.”

“You know me, always happy to do . . . free stuff.” My smile felt more like a Jack-o-Lantern’s grimace.

“Right.” He shoved his hands into his pockets and said nothing.

My toes were on the frozen side, and my fingers were quickly going numb. I shoved my hands into the front pocket on my sweatshirt and rocked back onto my heels, hoping to get the blood moving. Our silence was heavy, and awkward. He didn’t plan to make this easy on me.

“If that’s all, then, have a nice night, Roxanna.” He didn’t go back inside. He turned in the direction of the parking garage at the end of the block.

He walked away without a backward glance. Each step he took felt so final that my heart pounded in my chest. I guess I hadn’t expected him to be quite so short.

I slid behind the wheel of my vehicle and sat staring at the snow landing on the windshield. Things could have gone better. I definitely could have plotted this out more. Maybe made some notecards with possible scenarios. At least then I’d know what to do with myself after getting dissed in the freezing cold by the man I loved.

My vehicle stuttered to a start, which was fitting. With the way things were going tonight, I wouldn’t be surprised if the heater quit, or if my vehicle stalled on the drive home. That would be an awesome end to this disastrous night.

As I backed out of the parking slot, I thought of all the things I’d done wrong in our relationship. I hadn’t fought for us, or for him. I’d given up so quickly, no wonder he found it so easy to walk away.

And you just let him go. Again.
Man, I was really horrible at this relationship stuff. I should have bought a guide or something:
How to Win Back Your Ex-Boyfriend for Dummies.

I didn’t have a destination in mind as I drove at a crawl toward the end of the block. Cars were piling up behind me, but I didn’t care. I was driving safe, damn it, and they could all bite me.

Where did a person go after having the metaphorical door slammed in one’s face?

It’d barely been two months since we last saw each other. Had he really been able to get over me that fast? Did he really not care for me at all, not even a smidgeon, now? Hell no. I wasn’t having it. I might have pretty much forced him out of my life, but clearly I cared. I just crashed his Christmas party, damn it!

And now I was a little peeved. I mean, really. What kind of grand gesture would it take to get his attention? I’d been pining—
pining!—
for him for the last three weeks, ever since I realized I loved him. I’d been eating loads of pasta, over-caffeinating, writing a paranormal
romance,
of all things, inspired by my feelings for him, and, what? He’d been
just fine?

“Un-freakin’-believable,” I mumbled, and goosed the pedal.

It wasn’t a good idea. My SUV slid, and hitting the brakes only made things worse. I skated through the turn at the end of the block and careened straight for the vehicle turning out of the parking lot. I slammed on the brakes, but not before my bumper clipped Chase’s quarter panel with a sickening
crunch
. Our cars ground to a stop in the middle of the street, my front bumper eating the passenger side of Chase’s sedan.

“
Holy shit,
” I whispered and raised my hands to cover my mouth.

Nothing said psycho ex-girlfriend like a good old fashioned fender bender. He rolled down the back passenger window of his car. He leaned to gaze at me from the space between the front seats and our eyes locked. I didn’t know what to do.

So I waved.

He rolled the window back up.

“Shit, shit, shit.” I glanced around. No one stopped to see if we were okay. The other motorists on the street drove past, eager to get home before the snow really started falling. We were expected to get up to eight inches tonight.

I grabbed my insurance card from the glove box and then pushed the driver’s door open. I was careful not to slip and fall and make a further ass of myself. Chase and I met on the other side of his car. There was no way to read his expression.

I stuck out the insurance card. “I guess you probably need this, huh?”