Worth the Chase

He crosses the line, placing his hand on her shoulder. Red tints my vision. I take a step forward, ready to pounce on this asshole, when Bridget shoots me a don’t you dare glare.

“I told you, please call me Jonathon. And don’t be silly, Bridget. This isn’t your fault. If anything, I will compensate you for the inconvenience. You have my word by the time you return, I’ll have this cleaned up and as good as new. I assume by the end of the weekend?”

“Of course.”

“Good.” He pulls back, taking too long to remove his hand, and nods. “I’ll leave you to it. Enjoy your weekend.” He turns to me, his eyes less courteous. “Both of you.”

I don’t respond. My glare says enough. Stay away from my girl, you creepy old fuck.

“Well, if that wasn’t the most awkward sword fight I’ve ever witnessed.”

I pfft and turn around. “You kidding me? What’s up with that guy? Call me Jonathon. More like creeper. And his hand on your shoulder? You should press charges.”

She rolls her eyes at me. “Press charges? For what?”

I stutter over my response. “I don’t know—harassment?” Dammit, why does she keep doing that? “He shouldn’t touch you. It’s against policy.”

She folds her arms over her chest, accentuating her perky tits. “And what policy is that?”

“Boyfriend policy. Only I can…uh, put my hand there.” When she tells me to beat it, I can only blame myself.

Thankfully, she only shakes her head and laughs. “Has anyone ever told you how ridiculous you are?”

“A time or two. Now, let’s go. Make sure you pack your bag.”

“For lunch?”

“No. For the weekend. You’re staying with me, remember? Boyfriend duties,” I say, then head out to my truck before catching that damn sexy eyeroll.

Bridget

Absolutely ridiculous.

If he thinks I’m spending the weekend with him, he’s out of his mind. Says the one who packed that bag…

Dammit. What am I doing?

Getting attached. Remembering how to smile. The exhilarating feeling of my heart beating again.

My world crashed and burned the night Jax died. And a piece of me died with him. My heart was so broken, there was no way of it ever mending. I blamed my father, but I also blamed myself. I knew my shoulders would always be heavy with the guilt I feel, and my soul would feel the stain from his death.

Until now.

Two years of shutting myself off from the world and refusing any kind of happiness. I’d convinced myself no one would ever come into my life that made me feel the way that Jax did.

Until now.

My heart and mind are in a constant battle. My heart says to let Chase in. I’ve suffered enough. Maybe he is my salvation. But my mind won’t let go of the memories. The fight. The accident. And if I let myself give into this temptation, what does that say for my love for Jax?

I gaze back at Chase as he takes a bite of his club sandwich, snorting out a laugh as a glob of mayonnaise slips down his chin.

Gorgeous. Funny. Strange at times. Spending way too much time on a broken girl. “Okay, spill. What’s your deal?” I hand him a napkin as the mayonnaise drips onto his shirt.

“Shit,” he grumbles, trying to wipe it off but making it worse. “As in my agenda here? Just a guy who needs to eat. Speaking of, you haven’t touched your salad. Do you want me to have them get you—”

“I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about you. Everyone has a story. What’s yours?”

He pauses for a moment, setting down his sandwich and leaning back in his chair. “I’m not sure I have one. Just an average guy who met a girl in a bar and wants to get to know her.”

My eyes narrow as I fold my arms over my chest. “Yeah, yeah, yeah—same song and dance. If you want to bullshit me, that’s fine.” I grab my napkin off my lap and place it on the table. “But after this lunch, these strange encounters are done. I can always stay with—”

“Fine! You win. What do you want to know?”

“Why don’t you date?”

“Why don’t you date?”

“I asked first. You said you don’t do girlfriends, why?”

He shrugs. “I’m a busy man. I don’t have time for all the hearts and flowers. I’m a highly sought-after man. I need to keep my options open—”

I start to stand, and his arm shoots out, stopping me. “Okay, okay! I had a relationship turn sour and promised myself never to be in that position again.”

Finally, some truth. “Explain.”

He stalls, then blows out a harsh breath. “Not much to tell. We were good, then we weren’t.”

I start to stand again. “Okay! Jesus. I was in love with her. I thought she was the one. Turned out, I was only one of many. She’d been cheating on me for years. I saved money, bought a ring, and caught her with one of her college professors. There. Happy?”