Chapter 11

This can't be happening.

I've never slept here without Abby and I've definitely never slept in Chase's bed.

The thunder, lightning, and rain continue as I sit on the stool in the kitchen, eating a plate of leftover tortellini Chase said I could warm up for something to eat. We've officially changed the weather channel to something more kid friendly for CeCe to watch for the last hour or so before she has to go to bed, and I no longer have a buffer in this situation I've found myself in.

In any other circumstance, I probably would jump at the suggestion of sleeping in Chase's bed. Although, in most—well, all—of those scenarios he'd ideally be sleeping with me in it. I can't be mad at him wanting to make sure I'm safe, but to be honest, it's probably just because he is fresh out of babysitters and if something were to happen to me he'd probably force himself into an early retirement.

"All right, teeth, pajamas… let's go."

Chase grabs CeCe from the couch and tosses her in the air. She screams and then laughs, her honey blonde hair falling into her face as she lands safely back into his arms. I can't help but smile as I watch them together. It's pure joy, happiness. It's like CeCe knows she's the safest she could ever be in his arms.

I can hear them down the hall in the bathroom, she's singing the ABC's; although, it sounds gurgled through brushing her teeth and he keeps reminding her to get the teeth in the back.

I haven't seen him in this setting in so long. Abby, Mia, and I would come here some nights when CeCe was a baby. He was so overwhelmed and would never admit it, but in the haze of trying to take care of a baby, he let us help. He eventually found his footing and somehow that meant he didn't need help anymore and so he stopped accepting it.

My guess, though? He wanted to prove he could do it on his own. Prove that Kristen leaving wasn't the end of the world like he originally thought. It's why I don't take a lot of his remarks or quirks personally.

I think when you're hurt the way he was, and you finally dust yourself off and get back up… there's something in you that vows to never let it happen again. So, you put up walls and barriers. You make routines and rules and set different parameters in place to make sure you don't let anyone hurt you like that again.

Once I'm done eating, I busy myself in the kitchen, cleaning up my plate and moving the dishes from the sink into the dishwasher. The weather still hasn't let up, even though I keep checking the news app on my phone to see if I can find even a sliver of calm to drive home. It feels wrong that I'm still here, like I'm invading his alone time, his quiet time. My plan for the evening is to make myself scarce, hopefully not bother him too much and just get through the night and duck out first thing in the morning.

"Future music hall of famer you've got there," I say, smiling when Chase walks out of CeCe's room carrying a dinosaur stuffed animal.

"She asked for you."

"Really?"

He shrugs, probably just as confused as I am. "Really."

Grabbing the towel on the counter, I dry off my hands and walk down the hall toward her bedroom. His white hallway walls feel like they're almost closing in around me and I glance quickly into his bedroom as I approach hers. I barely know what his bedroom actually looks like, and a peek is no help with how dark it is right now.

"Hey, my girl, ready for bed?"

Her sound machine is ridiculously loud and I have no clue how she finds this helpful to sleep. It would absolutely keep me awake. I'd have to assume he turned it up to try and drown out the noise of the weather outside.

CeCe reaches her hand out to me as she lays there, one arm tucked in the blanket with a puppy stuffed animal secured under her arm. But her outstretched arm isn't empty. She hands me a small penguin stuffed animal and smiles.

"Here. If you get scared."

My shoulders sink and I smile back at her.

"Thank you," I whisper, squeezing her hand and kissing the top of her head.

It's the sweetest gesture anyone's ever done for me and it came from a three-year-old.

"For your fears?" Chase's voice catches me off guard when I come back into the kitchen holding the penguin. He holds up the dinosaur in his hand.

"Yeah." I laugh, running a hand through my hair and placing the stuffed animal on the counter next to me. "She's the sweetest, Chase. You're doing a great job with her."

His brown eyes soften and his body relaxes when he hears those words. I'm not sure how often people tell him that, but by the looks of it, he should hear it more than he does.

His head bobs up and down before he starts the dishwasher and dims the kitchen light. His apartment feels so peaceful right now, so homey. Even with the bare minimum decorations and the storm still swirling outside, it's cozy in here. The fireplace in the living room is on and he's got the TV guide up when he finally takes a seat on the couch. He must've changed his clothes while I was in CeCe's room because he looks a lot more comfortable in a pair of joggers and the faded t-shirt on his back.

"So, I think I'll probably just go to sleep then." My fingers fidget with the hem of my t-shirt.

"It's seven thirty…" He looks at me, eyeing me suspiciously.

"Yeah, well beauty sleep and all that… you understand."

He chuckles lightly, a sound that's so few and far between. "Kincaid," he says while scrolling through the guide.

"I don't want to interfere with your night, Chase. It's enough that I'm having to stay here longer than you originally planned, the least I can do is give you your space."

I turn and walk down the hall, but I hear footsteps behind me and his dreamy woodland scent drifts into my nose. Would it be rude to just plug my nose every time he gets close? It's going to be heaven and hell sleeping in his bed tonight.

"I know where your room is, I don't need an escort."

"Do you want something more comfortable to sleep in or are jean shorts and that shirt good enough for you?" His eyebrows raise as he stares at me when we both enter his room, and I sigh.

The walls are a crisp white, but he actually has decorations in here. There are many photos of CeCe; although, that comes as no surprise. But he has an entire corner of his very large master bedroom more decorated than the rest of his house.

"Wow," I whisper as I take it all in.

He walks into his closet, flips on the light and grabs a t-shirt, pulling it from the hanger. Oh God, a shirt that will undoubtedly smell like him. What is he doing to me?

"Wow what?" He tosses the shirt my way. It's black with the Knights logo on the front and a schedule on the back from a few years ago.

"Just your bedroom… it's not what I would have pictured."

I don't have much time to look around the room before another thunder crack makes both of us jump. I'm surprised CeCe slept through that one.

There's an old whiskey barrel in the corner that I'd have to assume is from a distillery. I know when he was in his early twenties, before his dad passed away, they would go to different tastings all the time. There are shelves above it, one with a picture of him and Jack, his dad, next to a bottle of unopened Jack Daniels. There's something on the other side of the barrel, but I don't have a good enough view to see exactly what it is.

"Oh," he says. "You can wear these too." He pulls out a pair of shorts from his drawer. Red with a white drawstring.

"I don't have to wear your clothes, Chase. It's… I'll be fine." I gesture to what I'm wearing. He places both hands on his hips and his head falls back with a loud sigh.

"Don't be so difficult." He rolls his eyes as he walks toward me. "I promise you can wash my stench off of you in the morning."

Wash it off? God, I want to live in it.

Chase swiftly exits his room, giving me privacy to change into his clothes. For as confident as I feel like I am most days, there are still moments where Chase Hunt makes me feel like a shy school girl. And standing in his bedroom about to change into his clothes is one of those moments. Clothes are reserved for significant others and maybe the occasional family member who spilled salsa on their shirt and needs a clean one to wear.

His shirt is loose on me and the shorts are roomy and comfortable as I tie the drawstring to keep them in place. When I would try to wear Drew's clothes they didn't hang off my body in the cute and sexy way I always hoped they would. They fit me. I hated it. It's why I never grabbed anything from his closet when we were dating and why I had exactly three things to give back to him when we broke up. A phone charger, his old stethoscope he left in my car, and a laptop bag he was letting me use that I no longer wanted to have.

After I toss my hair into a bun, I open his door quietly and head back toward the living room. I can hear the TV still on and the voice coming from it sounds weirdly familiar. I'd recognize David Attenborough's voice anywhere.

Rain pounds the pavement outside when I pass by the sliding glass door. I can see the street lights in between the water splashing. I'm sure no one is out in this weather, if nothing else it's just miserable to be out and about in the rain.

"Are you watching a bird documentary?" My question startles Chase, like he forgot I was even in the house to begin with. His shoulders rise and fall quickly and he places his glass down on the coaster next to him. Of course he's using a coaster.

"Yeah, we can change it, though." He reaches for the remote and I walk into the living room, taking a seat on the loveseat.

"No, no. I actually planned to watch this one too. I've been waiting for it."

"You watch animal documentaries?"

" You watch animal documentaries?" I ask him the same question.

His lips pull together like he's just been caught doing something he isn't supposed to be doing, but little does he know he's just adding little stupid things to love about him.

"Guilty." He raises the glass to his lips and I watch as he takes a sip and then lets his tongue dart out between his lips before he places the glass back down.

I settle in on the couch and pull the blanket over me while the documentary continues to play.

"Damn," he breathes out when they say how wide the wingspan of an Albatross is.

"A ten-foot wingspan… that's crazy. I need to see that in person one day," I say, eyes wide still focused on the screen where they're listing a bunch of facts.

"I don't think I'd ever want to own a bird, but they're pretty cool to learn about. I watched a whole show on sea lions the other night… It was interesting." Chase's face lights up like a kid—so excited about learning something new. It's so dorky and endearing, and I find myself wishing he hates the things I love.

When it ends, we both sit there and watch the credits roll. It's just past ten and I wish I could say I felt exhausted, but I feel awake and alert. It could be the fact that the storm outside is just as strong as it was hours ago which is keeping me alert or the fact that I am acutely aware of where I am.

At home, Chase is the same Chase I've known for years. He's gotten a little rougher around the edges, but he's still thoughtful and kind, funny, and makes me feel safe. Even though sometimes I'm sure he wishes he could staple my mouth shut. It's kind of interesting to watch, actually. He's so much more guarded when he's out, even around his friends, it's like he's constantly on watch. He tries to hide this part of him, the tender pieces. It just makes me wonder if it's some kind of defense mechanism.

He glances at the time on his phone and then turns to me. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course," I whisper into the dark.

His head is leaning back on the couch cushion and aside from the rain still beating away outside, there's nothing but stillness, quiet.

"When I mentioned Drew the first night you were here, why didn't you tell me you broke up?"

"I didn't see a reason to, it doesn't matter. I'm guessing Abby told you."

"It matters if you're upset. Are you okay?"

He sits up, giving me his full attention, keeping his golden brown eyes trained on me.

The TV has gone into sleep mode, making the screen black and leaving the only light in the living room being the fireplace and the pieces of lightning that set the sky ablaze every so often.

"I'm okay, believe me." I laugh. "Why?"

"I'm not heartless. We're still friends, even when you're being a menace."

My lips press together to stop a smile from escaping.

"Can't have your sole babysitter become a pathetic blubbering mess, is that it?"

A groan rumbles from his chest as he sits there, arms hanging on either side with his massive hands carefully placed on the couch for a beat before he speaks again.

"Yeah, that's it."