37. APT.

CHAPTER 37

APT.

ROSé , brUNO MARS

Seeing him again sets fires in me that had been nothing but ash and embers for months, and as badly as I want to stay with him, I can’t. I’m too close now, too close to having her right where I want her. Lawson, too. I’ve always said people shouldn’t piss off a woman in STEAM, but nobody listens. Now, they’re going to pay for it. All of them, one by one.

“I have so many questions, so many things I want to know! Uhm, safe place. How about my apartment?” Chase says excitedly as he climbs into the car. My guy just became a ten-year-old with a golden ticket to a candy factory. And I’m the candy factory. Kinky.

“Buckle up and keep Pongo in the back. I can’t have him licking on me while I’m driving, Puppy.” He stares at me with that goofy grin I’ve missed so damn much.

“Sure, yeah. Uhm, do you need the address?”

“Chase, I’ve left you packages and you don’t think I have the address?”

“Shit, I forgot. I’m just so damn happy to see you. My brain is malfunctioning. Wait! Lawson! He called me. He knows who the stalker is.”

“Technically you do, too. If Mills and I are right?—”

“Mills? I fucking knew it! I should fire that guy. It’s the convention girl, right? The one who broke onto the set right before I met you. The fucking day I met you.”

“That’s our guess. And baby, I’m good, but I’m not keeping myself undercover for six months good. Mills had a plan. He passed me a note just before I left for the airport. I have an aunt that goes to Mexico every single year like clockwork, so I crashed at her house for the night until Mills could find me somewhere safer. He’s helped keep me safe. Don’t fire him.”

“Oh, I’m fucking firing his ass as soon as I have my phone again.”

“Puppy, he and I have been working together to connect all the dots. I’m finally getting to put my computer programming skills to use like I should have done years ago. He’s been…amazing.”

He doesn’t say anything and when I finally get a red light; I find him looking out the window with his jaw clenched. I reach for his hand, but he pulls it away, shaking his head. Instead of arguing this out in the car, I get to his apartment, keeping my head down as Chase has the guard let us in. He’s out of the car before I’ve even put it in park, storming over to the elevator.

“At least he’s not making a public scene, eh, Pongo?”

When I played this moment out in my head, he ripped my clothes off in the elevator and carried me to his apartment. I pictured a scene in a dramatic period romance with wind whipping my hair and dress around. I’m not even wearing a dress. His shirt also needs to be unbuttoned and not covered in dirt and ash from the set, but I could have worked with that, too. Instead, he’s punching buttons and turning away from me with his arms crossed. Chase Cooper, always the drama queen.

I haven’t been to his apartment, at least not this one. I’ve snuck into a few places he has stayed and left little gifts for him, put on his t-shirts, or smelled his pillow—it’s creepy, but I couldn’t help it. I missed him. It’s a spacious apartment with giant windows and a sleeping loft upstairs. The minimalist decor scattered around doesn’t fit Chase at all, but I could live here.

I bet this place looks magical when the snow falls. “Does it snow in Vancouver?”

“Why did you come back?” he yells as he spins around to face me.

“I…thought you’d want me to?”

“Bullshit! Why are you doing this?”

I sit on one of the barstools, running my finger over the cold marble countertop. This isn’t the welcome I had expected, but maybe I should have prepared for anger along with his excitement. He storms up to the loft and has a shoe box when he returns. I watch as he dumps the contents onto the counter in front of me. Trinkets that were meant to remind him of me and to let him know I’m okay. Sunflowers, lockets with the sun on them, a plush otter toy. There’s more than a hundred little things that he’s kept in this box while I hid. In retrospect, maybe sending him so many could have given away my location.

“I fucking kept them. I kept every fucking one of them, and I brought them with me everywhere! Every fucking job! Why, Ren? Are you rubbing my nose in it? Teasing me with what I’d never have again? Fucking with me? Is this how you say you’re sorry? Make you feel less guilty? Because if you don’t want me anymore, an email would have been fine after I waiting six fucking months!”

“Chase I don’t?—”

“I fucking waited! Do you know how many women throw themselves at me daily? I didn’t touch any of them. Not one! I waited for you because you’re all I wanted, Ren. It’s only been you since I met you! But I guess you didn’t feel that way, huh?” Pongo even hides under the table, confused.

“Oh, we are not doing this.” I slide off the chair and head toward the door, but I have an idea. “Fuck it,” I mumble, grabbing a chair from the dining room table. I drag it over in front of him and climb up on it so he can’t yell down at me like some kind of child.

“What the fuck are you doing?!”

“I’m yelling back!” He has to look up now, which makes it difficult for me to keep a straight face and it throws him off his game a little, too. “I sent you these so you wouldn’t forget about me!”

“Then…then…why are you? Wait, are you? Yeah, no! Why are you fucking him?”

“Do you speak to my mother like this?”

“What? Stop it! Stop fucking with my head and answer the question!”

“What are you talking about, Chase? I’m not fucking anyone!”

“Mills! You ran off with fu—with Mills! He’s so fucking amazing, huh? How long have you two been… did you plan all this?”

I purse my lips and try my best not to laugh, but I can’t help it. I’m doubled over and snorting from laughing so hard. When I catch my breath, he’s staring at me, that confused, lost little dog look in his pretty blue eyes. I missed those eyes so much.

“Puppy—”

“No!”

“Chase Cooper!” I use a stern voice, and he straightens up, giving me his full attention. At least he hasn’t forgotten about that. “I am not now, and I have never before, slept with, kissed, or even held hands with your private investigator. He helped me move around without being detected and provided me with the equipment and means to trap a few flies in our web. He also gave me the money you sent. Thank you for that.”

“You didn’t?” He blinks, still confused.

“No. I didn’t.”

“I’m such a fucking idiot.” His shoulders slump and the poor man looks like he’s about to cry as everything hits him at once.

“You’re my idiot. And it better be you that I’m fucking in the next five minutes, or I’m leaving.”

The words are still on my lips when he grabs me off the chair, throws me over his shoulder, and carries me up to the loft. There’s a loud snap when he smacks my ass, and the tingle goes all the way to my toes and the top of my head. He throws me down on the bed, standing over me with that look he gets in his eyes, the look that says I won’t be able to walk when he’s done with me. I move back on my elbows and he climbs onto the bed and over me, our noses brushing together as the electricity sparks between us.

“Stay.”

“Oh, Puppy. I?—”

“No. No excuses, no bullshit. Stay!”

That simple word has teeth. He wants me to fix him, to make him whole again. He’s broken, he’s been that way for years, and he wants me to pick up the pieces and glue him back together one piece at a time. How could I say no to that level of trust and love?

“Please?” The strength in his voice fades, replaced by a whimper.

My chest heaves as I nod and he dives into my neck, wrapping his arms around me and tugging at my clothes while I struggle to get to his. There’s a ripping sound before his hand slaps against my now bare thigh as he rips the leggings open and pushes his fingers between my legs. He remembers every spot and how to touch me. I’m putty in his hands and just as I get to the edge, he spreads my legs apart and thrusts into me. My body isn’t ready for his size, and I scream his name out as he pushes into me again, both of us desperate and needy. I shove my hands under his shirt and claw down his back, not caring who will see it later, watching him throw his head back and moan for me.

His mouth hovers over mine as he thrusts one more time, bottoming out while my back arches. I’m being split in two, but it’s what I want. What we need. We breathe each other in, neither of us moving as our eyes lock together. I may not have gotten my movie magic elevator ride, but I’m okay with this fantasy coming to life.

“One more request,” he breathes against my mouth.

“Anything for you, Puppy.”

“Marry me.”

I move my head back and stare at him. “Are you serious right now?”

“Very. Renate Silva. I want you to be my queen now and forever.”

“One condition?”

“Anything,” he echoes.

“Ask me again when you’re not rage fucking my brains out?”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” I cup his face and wipe the tear from his cheek as he smiles.

“Yes? Really?”

My phone vibrates, almost sending us both flailing off the bed. He digs it out from under my torn clothes and holds the screen to me.

“Mills. I need to answer?—”

He hits the button for the speakerphone and answers. “Mills, bro, shitty timing. Can you call back later? I’m in the middle of fucking my wife because you’re not.” He ends the call, tosses the phone over the edge of the bed, and dives back into my neck as he thrust into me again.

“Chase!”

“What? Not what you were asking for?” His brow furrows. “In my defense, it’s been a few months, and today has been pretty weird.”

“No. I mean yes. I just, I don’t think I wanted to tell Mills quite like that.”

“Oh, I’m going to shout it from the fucking roof. You’re my light, my everything, my family. I’ll tell the world as soon as you scream my name while I put a baby—” He stops, freezing mid sentence as his brain blue screens.

Neither of us moves. We’re barely even blinking as we stare at each other.

“Mr. Cooper? Were you about to reveal a bit of a breeding kink?” He cringes as he looks down at me, swearing under his breath. “Hey, Puppy? Remember our rule?”

“Never be embarrassed by a kink?”

“Good fucking boy.” I grab him by the throat and whisper, “Now knock your fucking wife up, you whore.”

* * *

The clock says it’s after three in the morning when I wake up. Chase has me cradled in his arms, his hand splayed over my belly. His confidence that he got the job done on the first go made me giggle, but I can’t help but hope right along with him. I need to pee, though, and the dim glow from the horror movie we had on when we fell asleep helps me maneuver the apartment in the dark.

When I’m done, Pongo and I head down to the kitchen, hoping I’ll fix him some food, too. Now that I’m a part time spy, my internal clock picks strange times to be wide awake or hungry. I’m starving, but, of course, his cupboards are bare. That would explain why he’s lost so much weight. Skinny fucker. I’ll have Mama help me fix that when we’re back.

I find a granola bar and nibble on that while I search for a cup. I laugh when I open the cabinet and the mug Chase got me for his house stares at me. There’s a whip and handcuffs hidden in the apple that reads ‘Teachers Do It Better,’ because of course Chase would find someone to make that. I doubt that will ever be true again—the teacher part.

I find my phone next to the couch and I’m surprised it didn’t shatter into a thousand pieces. I have one text from M.O.T.H.E.R.—an appropriate name for Mills. I almost ignore it, but my brain refuses to let me leave it until morning, no matter how badly I want to curl back into Chase’s warm arms. I click the thread.

M.O.T.H.E.R.

Leave now! She saw you! On my way.

I check the timestamp, it’s from fifteen minutes ago. I’ve been pretending everything can go back to normal, when it can’t. Not yet, anyhow.

I grab one of Chase’s shirts from his laundry basket downstairs and find a notepad and pen, leaving him a note so he doesn’t worry when he wakes up alone in a few hours. He’ll still worry, but not as much, I hope.

As I scoop up my keys, there’s a noise by the door and Pongo stands up, growling. I hold my hand out to him, the signal to stay, praying that he’ll listen to me as I hold my breath and stare at the door. Minutes pass and Pongo relaxes as there’s a soft, familiar tap on the door. Mills.

As I rush for the door, I find the envelope and my heart sinks. She’s watching us still. I grab it and run out the door as quietly as I can.

When Mills and I are safely in the car and miles away from Chase, I rip the envelope open. Pictures of me at the film set, of us screaming at each other in the kitchen, and of us in bed. None of it would do much to hurt either of us. It’s meant as a threat. The closer I get to her, the further ahead of us she gets.

Fuck.