She Laughs in Pink (Sheridan Hall #1) (20 page)

“There’s no point in worrying them, Juliet. I just had a dream. He’s not dead. He’s on his way here.”

Ben says what we’re all thinking. “It was just a dream, Pooja.”

Pooja wipes her eyes and looks at us. “It’s never just a dream with me, Ben. I know it’s hard for you to understand, but I can feel things. And I feel him around me.”

“I still think you should call,” I say.

“Jesus, Pooja,” Rocco says. “I’m so sorry this happened to you. Frank’s getting the car. We’re packing up and coming back. I’m not going to let this bastard hurt you. Call your family and ask them for details, okay? Ben? You’ll stay with her? Pick up the phone.”

Ben takes the phone off speaker. After a series of “uh-huhs,” and “okays,” he says, “Of course.”

As soon as Ben hangs up, the phone vibrates again. Ben looks at the screen and holds it up for me to see. “Sexy Train Man Chase” flashes across the screen, and a picture of Chase stares back at me. I hesitate, not sure this is the time, but there’s only one reason Chase would be calling me now.

Ben purses his lips. “It’s okay. Take it. You were just thinking about him.”

I take the phone and step into the hallway. With a heavy heart, I lift it to my ear. “Chase?” When Chase doesn’t speak and I hear him catch his breath, I know.

I bring my hand to my mouth and bite my knuckle to keep from crying. “You’re the only one I can talk to,” he says shakily. “I don’t know what to do.”

“I’m on my way.” My heart breaks for the second time that night.

Back in room four, the group stares at me. They all know, but I say it anyway. “Chase’s grandmother died.”

“Go,” Pooja demands. I don’t want to leave her, but I can tell by the way she looks at me that she understands.

I look at Ben. “It’s okay,” he says. “I know you have to.”

“But—”

“Shh,” he says, moving closer to me. He takes my chin and stares into my eyes. “Go to Chase. It’s what you both need.”

My lip quivers, but I hold it together. “Stay with Pooja and Megan. Rocco and Frank will be back soon." I kiss him on the cheek and then whisper into his ear, “I don’t know if her dream means anything, but make her feel safe.”

He hugs me. “Of course, Jules. I’ll take care of her.”

“I know.” I hold him tighter, feeling his strength, taking some of it for myself. Pooja and Chase need us now. Ben is a rock—I have no doubt he can handle this. Me? Leaving Ben on the night we’re supposed to be
together
together? Leaving Pooja when she’s scared to death of this awful man from her past? I’m not sure I’m strong enough.

But as I stand with Ben’s arms around me, with Pooja wiping tears away, every ounce of my being wants to get to Chase. Of all the things happening, of all the emotion in the room, all I want is to find Chase and lose myself in him.

Before I leave, I pull Pooja into a bear hug, speaking softly into her ear, “Maybe it was just a dream. Your vibes have been off about this guy from day one, right? Maybe it’s just a terrible dream.”

“Maybe.” Pooja nods, but I can tell she’s not convinced. “Don’t worry about me. Follow your heart.”

With one last look around the room, I turn and leave, closing the door behind me. It’s not hard to follow my heart when every beat tells me to get to the city and get to Chase.

Chapter Eighteen

Chase

I leave Rob at the hospice. It’s been days since we took her off life support and moved her to the hospice, and time since then has felt like forever, but not long enough. I can’t be there one more minute after Gram’s heart stops beating. Dazed, I walk onto the city street. I don't know where to go or what to do.

Even though I left my sweatshirt in the waiting room, I don’t feel the cold as I walk downtown toward home. I march into the liquor store on the corner like I own the place and grab a bottle of vodka. At the counter, I drop my fake ID and my credit card. “Gloria Chase,” it reads. I catch my breath at the sight of her name, but the clerk doesn’t react. I leave with the coveted brown bag, my hand wrapped around the neck of the bottle inside.

At home, I put the bottle on the table and sit in the kitchen, looking at it but not opening it. I know if I open it, bad things will happen. This night is terrible enough. I think about my grandmother. I open the bottle but don't drink it. Instead, I pour it down the drain, leaving the empty bottle in the kitchen sink.

Seeing the vodka drip down the drain oddly makes me feel a little better.
My first smart decision without Gram to guide me.
New Chase. I thought he was dead, too.
I wander into the living room. A noise outside causes me to look toward the window, and I see the dark ballet studio across the way. Without thinking about it too much, I call Juliet.

When I hear her voice, when she says she’ll come to me, I crumble into a pile on the floor. I don’t move while I wait for her. I don’t even move when I hear her light footsteps coming up the stairs. I must have left the door unlocked because somehow she ends up in front of me like an angel. She reaches for me, and for the first time since Gram died, I let the tears fall.

We sit on the floor for minutes or hours and finally I tell her, “I don’t know what to do.”

“You don’t have to do anything.” Her voice shakes even though she holds me tightly. I don’t want to let her go.

“I need her, Juliet. I can’t do this on my own. Why do I lose everyone? Gram. My parents. You. How is that fair?” I let the words come out, but I’m not sure if I’m making sense.

Juliet holds me while she listens. “You didn’t lose me, Chase. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere, okay?” I lift my face to hers, and she’s crying with me, or maybe for me.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper “I’m sorry I’ve been such a dick. I couldn’t talk to you. I just wanted to push you away, to keep you from this…from me."

“There’s nothing to be sorry about.” She touches my cheek. “Don’t you know by now that nothing can keep me away from you?”

“Ben…” I can’t ignore his existence, as much as I need Juliet tonight.

“He knows I’m here.” She stands and pulls me to my feet. “Tonight, it’s just us.”

Something in Juliet’s eyes makes me feel safe. That even though I lost my rock, my anchor, I’ll get through somehow. I feel that connection again, the reason I can see Juliet’s colors. It’s just us. She rests her forehead on my chest and speaks to the floor. “I’m so sorry, Chase. I’m so sorry for your loss.”

We stand in my living room, tears drying as we hold hands, and I try to forget. All I want to think about is the woman in front of me.
Tonight, it’s just us.
I forget about my grandmother. I forget about death and the grim day I’ll have to face when I wake in the morning. I forget about Sara and the baby and Juliet’s Justine. I forget about Ben back at Sheridan Hall. I forget about tomorrow.
Tonight, it’s just us.

With the touch of Juliet’s hands, her colors lift into the room—reds and oranges blend into my painting hanging behind her over the mantle.
Thank you
, I think as I hold her hands.
Can you forget with me?

Juliet answers by standing on her tiptoes and gently kissing my lips. She presses her cheek against mine and winds her arms around my waist. I push her hair over her shoulder and bury my face in her neck. My body fills with life as I shut off my brain to everything except her. I grow warm in every place we connect—her shoulders, arms, breasts, hips, thighs. I feel her everywhere.

She tilts her head back to expose her neck. I squeeze her tighter and inhale her scent.
I love you
. Her colors engulf me.

Juliet

I’m not sure if he says it out loud or in his mind, but I hear it clearly. “I love you, too,” I answer without hesitation.

When Chase hears my words and pulls back to look at me, I wonder how eyes can be so sad but also so full of life and love.
I need you
, I hear.

I’m right here
, I answer.

I kiss him softly on the cheek at the corner of his mouth, tasting the salt of his tears. My body goes into overdrive at the feel of his skin under my lips and briefly, very briefly, I think about whether or not going further with Chase is the right thing to do. Not only because his grandmother just died, but also because I’m not his. Before I can change my mind, Chase tilts his chin just a little. His mouth finds mine.

The kiss is so gentle and uncertain that I feel it more in my heart than on my lips. Casting all doubt aside, I want to feel more.

I touch his cheek as I kiss him forcefully. His hands tangle in my hair. As our kisses intensify, my breath quickens, and my heart pounds so loudly I’m certain Chase can hear it. Soon, urgency replaces uncertainty. I say his name as I let my hands travel down his body. At his waist, I tug at his shirt, untucking it, and then slide my hands underneath, over his abs, and up his warm chest.

“Juliet.” My name is an exhausted whisper, but his kisses, his body, his voice scream that he needs me. I let go of him to catch my breath as he puts his forehead to mine, his purple eyes searching my face. I know in that moment I belong exactly where I am, with him, alive and breathing, forgetting the sadness. There is no doubt in my mind. I slowly pull him by his belt loop toward his room.

Chase shuts the door and fumbles in the dark. A match strikes, and a flame glows as he lights a small, glass votive candle and sets it on his nightstand. Without words, he lifts his shirt over his head and watches me. He’s sad, but alive. I study him in the flickering light.

I hadn’t planned on my first time being like this, with a boy who needs me for the wrong reasons even if he loves me for the right ones. A boy who isn’t my boyfriend, who I’ve never even really been on a date with. Still, I can’t help but think what’s happening is perfect. Things with Chase are always perfectly imperfect.

We stand facing each other, lost in our own thoughts. Chase appears to be waiting for my next move. I pull my shirt over my head and hold Chase’s stare until he, looks down my body. I watch him swallow hard and feel that magnetism again—I have to touch him.
No more games
.

I take a step forward and kiss him again as his hands travel down my bare shoulders. The butterflies in my stomach flutter. Every place Chase touches comes alive. I’ve never felt so needed, so wanted, so loved.

All those times I’d touched boys for the power of it, the experimentation, or just to feel something, I’d never felt the love or any kind of connection. All the times I touched myself there was a utility in it—to calm myself, to fall asleep. I didn’t know how to connect love to the act of touching, not even with Ben. But with Chase, it was different.

The times I’d touched Ben, I’d done so because I’d planned on loving him forever. But as I kiss Chase in his tiny room, engulfed by the scent of lavender from the little votive, I know I love him because I just do. I don’t care if I should or shouldn’t or that I didn’t plan it. I love who he is, and who he makes me. I love him because we are the same person. I touch him because I need him to be as close as he possibly can be. With every brush of his lips on mine, every trace of his fingers on my skin, I want more.

Chase’s lips find my shoulder, and he trails a line of kisses down the strap of my bra. He doesn’t ask permission like he had the first time we were in his room together. He takes what he needs, and I freely give.

He kneels in front of me, his face looking up at mine as he runs his hands over my hips, down my legs. I touch his hair, and notice my chest rising and falling as my breath deepens. The sight of him down before me, so close to me, separated only by a few shreds of fabric, drives me insane. He touches the button on the top of my jeans. I don’t object as he unfastens it, pulls open the zipper, and pushes them down.

The air hits my skin as I step out of my jeans and stand in front of him, wearing nothing but my new blue lace bra and thong set, so miniscule and useless that I might as well be naked. I’m wearing the lingerie I’d planned on showing my boyfriend in another world. A world that no longer exists
.

Chase meets my eyes again as his hands knead my hips around my flimsy thong. His eyes take me in. He visibly gulps and says, “I…”

I second-guess the situation, thinking he wants to stop. Uncharacteristically shy, I move my hands to cover myself.

He grabs my hands and looks at my face. “Don’t. I…”

I kneel down and join him on the floor, chest-to-chest. “
I
what, Chase? Do you want to stop?”

He shakes his head. “I…I can’t even find words,” he says.

None needed
. I kiss him again, my intent clear as I pull him up and tug at his jeans. I push them to the floor as I bend my head into his chest.

When he steps out of his jeans, he pulls me onto the bed on top of him. I straddle him and pin his hands over his head and kiss him. As I lean forward, his erection presses against my belly, his hard chest against my breasts. I sigh. Our legs tangle as I explore him, wanting more.

Chase flips me onto my back and kisses down my chin and over my neck. When he gets to my bra, he unclips the front closure and pushes the cups to the side. I wait, panting, as Chase stills and drops his face into my belly.

“Are you okay?” I whisper.

Looking up at me, he starts stuttering again. “I…I…”

I can’t help but giggle. “Just nod if you’re okay.”

“You’re perfect,” he mumbles. He smiles for the first time since I arrived, and it makes me melt inside. He gently touches my belly, up to my breasts, running his thumbs over my nipples. He takes one in his mouth and the wetness of his tongue makes me dizzy. I push his head to my chest as he teases me, arching my back into him, moving beneath him because I can’t stop myself.

He ignores my panting and pleading and kisses his way to my lace panties. His thumbs hook around the delicate material as he slides them down. His breath makes my skin grow warm as he settles his shoulders between my thighs, urging my legs wider. And there I am—naked, on my back, with Chase’s face between my legs.

That by itself almost pushes me over the edge. I hold off long enough for him to kiss me, licking me as his hands move up and down my body and settle on my hips. He lifts me to his mouth.

“Oh my god, Chase.” I hear my voice but the words don’t register. I try to control the sensations, the burst of feeling in every cell in my body, but my body begs for him like it’s not attached to my mind. With each touch of his mouth and his hands, watching him in the flickering candlelight, the smell of the lavender, feeling his hair, his shoulders, whatever I can touch, the waves inside me intensify, building and building to heights I can’t believe exist.

Relentless, Chase ignores my nonsense pleas of mercy, not stopping, not asking. The more I respond, the more he moves. He makes me need him the way he needs me. Just as I’m about to let it all go, to feel the release, he gently slides his finger inside and kisses me over it.

It gets fuzzy after that as I have no choice but to succumb. I think I curse. I know I say his name. I have no idea what other crazy nonsense spouts from my mouth but I don’t care. Chase holds me as I come around his finger, kissing me, touching me. He may have said something, too, but I was so lost in my head I couldn’t hear.

When I return to earth, Chase is working on my earlobe with his lips, his long arm wrapped around my waist. High on him, I don’t let myself rest. Instead, I want to return the favor. I want to see him come apart the way he’d seen me.

I turn to face him and kiss him insanely on the mouth, tasting myself as I bury my tongue in him. When I come up for air, his smile grounds me and I manage to say, “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me. I love you.”

His words make me want him more, again. Chase doesn’t object when I push him onto his back and kiss his neck. I work my way down his chest to that six…eight…hundred pack of abs and sit up as I pull down his boxers.

I peruse my first live, fully-naked, male body. I have no idea what to do with it, but enjoy the view nonetheless.

Chase provides me full access, resting his head on his hands as he watches me straddle him. His elbows wing out to the sides, and. his chest expands. Since the last time we were in this room, Chase had put on some weight. All muscle.

“You look amazing,” I say, as I run my hands up his sides. I let my eyes peruse him, all of him, wondering what will happen if I grab him in my hands. I resist the urge, instead touching everywhere else. “Where’d this body come from?” I say it to myself but he hears.