19. Outsiders

19

" D o you know what's on the other side of the wall?" Chance asked when he heard me ascending the trapdoor stairs twenty minutes after he'd taken his leave.

"No." I was still grumpy from a restless sleep and early morning wake-up call.

The clack of pool balls echoed through the long room. Chance rounded the table to line up his next shot. "I figure there's another room over there. Probably the stairs too—there's no way they got all of this bulky furniture, let alone the baby grand, through your trapdoor, or even a window."

"I've looked for stairs, but I've never found anything." I set a cup of black coffee on the pool table next to him, hating that I'd noticed how he'd taken his preferred morning beverage, just as he had mine. I'd made myself another cup after finishing the first one he'd brought me, and as if on autopilot, brewed enough for more than myself.

"My charms must be working—you're already warming up to me." He grinned, setting the pool cue against the table before grabbing the steaming cup of coffee.

I had been too tired to really take him in earlier, but the cut of his slacks perfectly emphasized his lean legs, and his black V-neck sweater, without a button-up beneath that day, exposed just a hint of his clavicle. And he was scruffy.

It was as if the universe had carved him from my dreams and dropped him right in front of me. Why did everything have to be so complicated?

My cheeks heated when his brow arched. He'd caught me staring.

"Shut up," I snapped.

"I didn't say a word." Chance chuckled.

Deciding it was too cold, I gathered what I needed to start a fire.

"Can I watch you?" Chance had abandoned his game of pool to sip his coffee next to me. "I don't know how to do it." He took a seat on the edge of the big leather sofa that faced the hearth.

Of course, he wouldn't know. He'd have servants for that.

"How have you been staying warm in your room then?"

"Flannel pajamas and three blankets." He laughed.

"Fine, come here." I beckoned him over.

He watched with rapt attention as I explained and demonstrated the process, noting things I had learned along the way, like having to make sure the flue was open while in use, but to make sure it was closed when there wasn't a fire, especially if he wanted to avoid bats in the summer.

"Sounds like you know that from personal experience." He smiled over his cup of coffee.

"That's a story for a different day." I shook my head, recalling how freaked out I had been when I found one flying around only a few weeks into summer break. Thankfully a quick web search revealed that opening the windows so they could sense the fresh air would help, and it hadn't taken long for the bat to exit the lounge of its own accord.

I showed him how to best position the wood and kindling to catch and burn longer, as well as what the tools beside the fireplace were used for.

"I'm surprised you made it the entire time without making fun of me for not knowing how to do any of this." He waved his hand at the now roaring fire.

"I did, I just didn't say any of it out loud." I stuck my tongue out at him in jest.

We both settled on either end of the couch. I curled my legs under me, and Chance rested his on the coffee table, stretching his arms over his head as he yawned.

"I'm sorry about what happened to Daniel," I said softly.

"Me too." His tone was somber.

"You said you were close, but only recently?" I hoped I didn't come across as being nosy, although, let's be honest, I was. But I thought if I understood Daniel the way Chance appeared to, maybe it would help us figure out what had happened…and maybe it would make it easier to trust Chance.

"Daniel is—was…" Chance paused. "Was one of the few people in my family I'm on good terms with. His mom, my aunt, was the black sheep of the family. She married young, and my grandfather didn't approve, so he completely cut her off, and the rest of his family did too, to stay in his good graces. I didn't even know I had an aunt while I was growing up. But a few years ago, she died in a car accident, and I guess Daniel's dad didn't stick around very long after he was born.

"He had to be placed in the foster system for a while, as It took the better part of a year for the state to actually get ahold of my dad, who had been named his legal guardian, without his knowledge. At first I thought it was a mistake, given how many layers of people stood between him and the public, but now I'm sure he knew earlier and thought it might go away."

"Wow."

"Yeah." Chance snorted.

"How did you find out about Daniel?"

"I overheard my dad arguing with one of his advisors on the phone and got the gist of the situation. I confronted him, and he pretended not to know what I was talking about. But then I took the matter to my mother, who I knew wouldn't let it stand. She runs and donates to a million different charities, and all of them are for children. She's always had a soft spot for kids, and wouldn't let Daniel's circumstances, which were completely out of his control, be the reason he suffered.

"A few days later, she came to me and told me it had been taken care of and that they had found a boarding school for him and would cover his tuition. But I didn't think it was fair that this kid, who had lost everything, would just be shipped off to figure shit out on his own. So I started reaching out to him, and we just clicked. I'd always wanted a brother. And he was so lost in his grief…I suppose I was a little lost, myself. So we just kind of were there for each other. I needed him to know he wasn't alone."

Chance stopped to chew his lip, silently contemplating as he gazed into the fire.

" I didn't want to feel alone."

"Why did you feel alone?" I asked softly.

Chance glanced at me over his shoulder, then looked back into the flickering flames. "I've never quite fit in with my family. My father tried to raise me to be this perfectly crafted, younger version of himself, but I rebelled. Sure, I have a business degree, but every spare moment, every elective was in something creative. I've always been interested in writing and photography and art, but that wasn't what he wanted a son for. Being a Roberts, I was under so much pressure to follow in his footsteps. It was too much."

He took a deep breath, letting the sound of the crackling fire take up all the space for a while before speaking again.

"I was never enough for him. I will never be enough. So I left."

"You left?"

Chance gave a mirthless laugh. "I haven't talked to him in two years, and I've been going by Chance Harper since college, because I didn't want the family name hanging over me while I was trying to figure out my own path. I don't think he ever forgave me for that, so when I took Daniel's side and called him out on being a piece of shit, well, I don't think he's missed me much either."

"But you're still on good terms with your mom and sister?"

"Yes, thankfully. They were the reason I was able to get enough cash so quickly to pay off Jennings into retirement."

I hummed in response, more pieces falling into place, and the puzzle that was Chance Harper becoming that much more clear.

"What? No jokes about me being a poor little rich boy?" He grinned at me, but there was no joy in his eyes.

"No," I said firmly. "Your dad sounds like an asshole. I'm sorry you fell out with him over you trying to befriend a kid who lost everything he'd ever known in the blink of an eye."

Chance relaxed into the couch. "I'm sorry I lied to you, Violet." Chance's expression was sincere. "I had my reasons, but I never meant to hurt you."

I was regretting telling him nothing could happen between us, despite the stupid school rule, because the more I learned about Chance, the more he opened up to me, the worse my stupid crush deepened.

I swallowed hard.

Was I about to forgive Chance for everything?

No.

Because, I realized, I already had.

"I'll admit it would be so much easier to stay mad at you, but given the situation, it feels inappropriate." I tried to joke to avoid admitting more than I was ready to.

"When has appropriateness ever stopped you when it comes to me? Miss ‘I have knives in here.'"

"That was completely justified!" I threw my hands up. "You all but admitted to stalking me! You still could be a serial killer, for all I know."

Chance laughed as he rose from the couch. "About that…"

I craned my neck around to watch him walk to the study table, where there was a stack of papers and the laptop I'd seen Claire give him. "I'm not a serial killer. Scout's honor." He held up two fingers, smiling at me before pulling a thick manila envelope from the top of the pile and making his way back to me. He extended his arm, handing it to me.

"But you were right—I was being a creep."

He scratched at the stubble on his chin, nervously watching me as I opened the envelope and found all the photos from the darkroom.

"Prints and negatives," he told me, coming back around to reclaim his spot on the couch. "I didn't want you to think I would just turn around and make more."

"I—" I didn't know what to say. I closed the envelope. "Thank you." I clutched it to my chest, feeling the warmth of the gesture from the top of my head to the tips of my toes.

"So, we're okay?"

I looked down at the envelope again and back up to meet Chance's stormy gaze. "Yeah, we're okay," I confirmed.

"Friends?" He raised a brow, the corner of his lip curving ever so slightly.

"Don't push your luck," I scoffed, but there was no venom behind the sentiment.

Seeing how Chance valued integrity and was so loyal to Daniel, I thought I wouldn't mind considering him a friend.