Chapter 10

Chase

Hey, I'm sorry for asking you this last minute when I just told you I wouldn't need help for a week, but any chance you can watch CeCe today?

An impromptu text from Chase comes through, surprising me to say the least. We spoke briefly after his game the other day and he was very adamant that he would see me after the bye week. I laughed, knowing that lately we've been seeing more of each other than normal, and it's clear that my presence is starting to take its toll on him.

If you miss me, just say that

Chase

I don't.

I won't tell anyone

Chase

Kincaid.

What time should I be there?

It's a far cry to assume he asked me instead of his sister, but Abby's been so caught up in what she has going on, I've barely seen her. I'm just glad she's doing what she feels is best for her and Ford.

When I was at the store the other day, I found myself meandering around the craft aisle. It's not exactly a place I'd usually find myself, but something caught my eye that made me think of CeCe. The aisle was lined with different markers, crayons, colored pencils, and sidewalk chalk. The marker package that caught my eye said scented markers.

I remember flipping open the package and grabbing the blue marker that read blueberry, holding it up to my nose. To my surprise, it actually smelled like blueberries, giving me hope that the rest of the package would also ring true to their descriptions, so of course I had to buy them.

Tossing the pack of markers into my purse, I reach for a jacket since it's already drizzling outside. I don't know exactly why Chase needs my help this afternoon, but whatever the reason, I don't mind. I had no plans aside from watching whatever documentary I could find.

"Again, sorry this was last minute," Chase apologizes the moment I walk through the door. He's already dressed and ready to go, backward hat and a pair of jeans with a dark green t-shirt.

Simple. Mouthwatering.

"You don't need to apologize, I'm happy to help." I wave him off, walking past him.

CeCe is eating a bowl of strawberries at the kitchen island when I place my things down beside her and casually toss the markers in her direction, giving her a smile and a wink.

" These are real scented markers," I say, giving her shoulder a little squeeze as I pass by.

Chase follows me back into the kitchen as I'm tossing my phone in my purse. His boots sound like they're scraping up his wood floors, but he continues to drag his feet across the kitchen, heading toward a drawer at the end. He pulls out a small notebook, maybe it's a planner? It's a little bit bigger than an address book.

"Oh, is that your little black book full of phone numbers?" I tease, biting the strawberry I snatched from CeCe's bowl.

His brows crease and the veins on his forearms protrude as he flexes holding the paper.

"Hilarious." He doesn't look up as he sifts through a couple pages before stopping on one, folding the notebook and turning it toward me.

"This has every important number you might need while I'm gone. I know Abby gave you a run down, but I've been meaning to show you this." He clears his throat before he continues. "It's got, uh, her doctor, my coach, some of the guys on the defense with me, my mom is in here… um, oh, my publicist. The doorman downstairs is in here too if you need anything, his name is Dave. Obviously, you know 911." His finger trails down the page like he's going through a checklist with me.

"Hold on. Who is 911?"

His eyes shoot to mine, clearly not fond of my joke as they sear into me.

"Kincaid," he says through clenched teeth.

"I'm kidding, just a joke. Clearly an ill-timed joke. Everything will be fine. This isn't my first rodeo, but I promise I'll refer to the notebook if there are any issues," I assure him, patting his shoulder as I walk toward the living room.

He sighs and leans over, kissing CeCe on top of the head.

"She has ten more minutes of that iPad and then it goes off."

I give him a double thumbs up and grab the blanket from the ottoman, tossing it over me as I sink into his couch. I just want to become one with this sofa, I could melt right into it.

"Where are you going anyway?" I ask, wondering if it's even my business, but curious minds and all of that.

"Apparently"—he sighs heavily—"I agreed to do a radio ad. They must've caught me in a good mood because I hate this shit."

"You're doing media? " I emphasize. "So, like, did they ask you on Christmas?"

"I think it was the other night when you finally left my house. I was relieved and I guess I would've said yes to anything."

My eyes widen as I look back at him, almost with pride at his quick witted response.

"I'm sorry, was that a joke?" I can't help but smile at his attempt.

"I've got to get going," he says, completely ignoring me.

"Did you just joke with me? Where's my phone? Do it again so I can record you."

"Kincaid." The roughness in his voice causes me to blush at the simple use of my name.

"Use that growly voice in your ad. It'll catch people's attention when they're listening."

"What? I don't have a growly voice," he says, very clearly trying to soften his words.

"You most definitely do." I laugh, clearing my throat ready to imitate him. " Kincaid ," I say as low as my voice will allow.

He always sounds husky, like he needs to clear his throat or take a sip of water.

"You say my name with that kind of rough voice all the time. It's obviously deeper than what I just did, but you get the idea. It's like a warning tone. Although, I'll be honest, it's kind of hot, Chase, so I don't know, I think it's having the opposite effect than you're intending." I smirk, grabbing the TV remote.

"I'll let you know when I'm on my way home," he grunts out with a sigh.

I'm easily responsible for every exasperated sigh this man has made in the last few weeks since I've been helping him out.

"All right, let's see what we've got." I open the pantry with CeCe at my side.

Chase didn't seem to love me cooking for him— although, he devoured the plate— but he's good with me cooking for CeCe.

Looking in the pantry, I notice how perfectly placed every single item is in here. The boxes are lined up from tallest to shortest and the cans are neatly stacked and displayed showing the labels for each. My eyes scan the shelves, taking in every organized detail of this pantry, knowing if Chase ever saw the clutter of mine, he'd probably pass out. His organization seems to have gotten more… intense with age. I know he's always been very particular and simplistic, his house is still very minimally decorated, except for CeCe's room which looks like a unicorn threw up all over it.

"Can I have noodles?" CeCe climbs on the stool as I'm carefully picking through the boxes to find what she's asking for.

"Of course."

Once I find the box of "spinny noodles"—also known as Cavatappi—she asked for, I get a pot of water boiling. While I'm standing near the stove, I can't help but notice the mess we've made this afternoon. Countless coloring book pages all over the place, empty juice containers… I know the last time I cleaned, Chase looked at me like I committed a crime, but I'm not leaving this stuff all over the house. I don't even have to ask and CeCe is already helping clean up, putting away some of her toys that made their way from her bedroom into the living room.

There's a strike of lightning that illuminates practically the entire apartment when I stand from the floor. I was hoping that Chase would be home before the storm rolled in this afternoon, but that doesn't seem likely now. It's unseasonably late to have a storm hit in November, but technically, hurricane season runs through the end of the month.

The only time I actually care about the news is when it's regarding the weather. I feel like, in another life, I could've been a storm chaser because I'm weirdly interested in weather. But they said this would be making landfall tonight, not at four in the afternoon.

Chase's chair slides across the balcony and all I can do is watch as plants fall over and a cushion gets carried away.

I grab the remote and switch the television from the rolling credits of the latest movie we watched to the news channel. Hurricane season is like the Super Bowl for meteorologists, you can see how excited they get to talk about storms.

My phone dings with a simple "OMW" abbreviation from Chase at the same time another lightning bolt strikes, causing an even louder crack and CeCe to run from the hallway into my thigh. Her little fingers dig in tightly as she grabs my leg.

"Hey, it's okay. It's outside. You're safe," I say, stroking her cheek before I bend down to pick her up. "Does Daddy let you eat on the couch?" My instincts tell me no, but how big of a mess can noodles make?

She shrugs her shoulders as her eyes focus on the sliding glass door and the havoc on the other side. The rain is beating down now, and it feels like midnight with how dark it looks already.

Once CeCe's dinner is finished cooking, I bring her plain noodles into the living room and decide to set up a comfortable little place for her to eat. I grab the blanket from the arm of the couch and spread it across the cushions, telling CeCe to have a seat and then grab another blanket to cover her with. Blankets are easier to wash than a whole couch, so this should cover it. I'm not going to have her sit at the table next to a raging thunderstorm outside when she can cuddle up with me on a perfectly cozy couch and watch the weather channel.

"What's that?" CeCe asks as the weatherman circles a big orange blob on the screen.

"So, that's the storm. The one that's outside right now. The weatherman is showing us how fast it's moving and where it's moving to, how strong it is, things like that."

"Hm." Her little chin tilts up like she's actually interested in what he's got to say. "Is it fast?"

I stare at the screen, listening to the update coming from the television and concluding that this damn storm isn't going anywhere soon. Sometimes, these things barrel through and leave as fast as they show up and others they just take their sweet ass time seeing themselves out.

"Sadly, no. Looks like it's moving really slow… like a snail," I say, wiggling my fingers at her.

"Ew!" she squeals.

The two of us continue to watch the weather update and the warnings flash on the bottom of the screen with different alerts.

When she finishes eating, she puts her bowl down beside her and reaches for the remote, turning the volume up higher. I can hear it clearly all the way from the kitchen as I'm getting myself a quick snack.

The front door swings open and then closes abruptly, startling me out of the daze I was in watching the number tick on the microwave.

"Loud enough?" Chase tosses his keys on the counter and makes his way into the living room where CeCe is.

"I think she's trying to drown out the noise of the storm," I say with a laugh, coming to her defense.

His massive hand covers the top of her head and he ruffles her already frizzy hair. His attention shifts back to me when he realizes that she's completely enthralled by the ongoing storm coverage.

"Trying to scare my kid by making her watch hurricane footage?"

"This is nothing, you just missed the Great White Shark video I showed her. Very bloody, gory, full of nightmare inducing stuff."

He shakes his head and then wags his finger in front of me, but it's almost… playful? "You're lucky you're joking. That one is prone to nightmares."

I shove a handful of popcorn in my mouth and take a seat at the island while Chase chugs two full water bottles in record time, and I add extra melted butter to the popcorn.

"More butter, huh?" He raises his eyebrows at me.

"The butter is what makes it delicious," I say, licking my fingers.

He laughs and places the water bottles in the recycle bin.

"How was the radio ad? What was it for?"

"Well." He licks his lips before speaking, and I have to remind myself to breathe like a normal human. It should be studied how easily he affects me. I really hope I was never this obvious when I was around him with a boyfriend, how shitty. "Hated every second. It was for a car dealership the team has a partnership with or something. Thanks for watching her, by the way. I should have led with that when I got home."

I shrug, shaking my head and inhaling this bowl of butter riddled popcorn, "I know you're thankful for me. No need to say it over and over ." My eyes roll in dramatic form, and he scoffs before pushing himself from the counter and walking down the hall to his bedroom.

Despite the weatherman's prediction of heavy rain and storms all night, I'm still somehow hoping there will be a small break for me to leave without risking being swept up into a tornado. Sadly, it's not looking good. I don't live far, and technically, my car is in the parking garage, so it's really just managing the quick drive home.

I've learned that one of the worst parts about living in Tampa is when it rains, especially when the weather is so intense, the streets flood. And it's not worth risking a puddle when you don't actually know how deep it goes. Even though I know my route and it's pretty straight forward, I've witnessed one too many people get stuck because they think they can drive through flooded streets. I can't afford to make that kind of mistake, but I can't possibly invade Chase's space for much longer.

"Fucking wind," he mumbles as he stares through his back door, seeing the way things have moved around. "I thought I'd have time before this happened to bring everything inside."

"It came pretty quick, otherwise I would've tried to grab some things… but by the time I noticed, it was already crazy."

He waves me off when he turns back to face me. "No, no, that's not your responsibility anyway."

I hear the loud beeping noise on the TV indicating another type of severe weather warning is about to be announced. Both Chase and I glance at the screen as a red alert displays across the bottom.

Tornado warnings in effect until midnight. Tropical storm warning in effect until 4 a.m.

Damn it.

"I should go now so I can get home before this gets insane," I say, reaching for my purse.

"You wouldn't call this insane?" he asks, jerking his thumb behind him as the palms are literally flying off trees with the wind.

I sigh, letting my head fall back slightly, annoyed at this situation.

"It's not safe. Stay here and see if it dies down a little first."

More time ticks by, and I've already colored, done a puzzle, and put on a puppet show with CeCe while Chase braves the balcony trying to secure what he can. The weather isn't slowing down and it's only getting later and darker.

Chase hurries back in, slamming the door shut and pulling the hoodie off over his head. "I'll go grab a comforter and some pillows. You can have my room for the night."

"What? No. I can't stay here overnight." My mouth instantly becomes dry. I have nothing here except for the clothes on my back and a half eaten protein bar in my purse.

"Did you think that was a question? You're not driving in this weather."

He doesn't wait for another reply from me, he just walks down the hall and opens the closet.