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Chapter 18
Elena Adams
~•~
“Why are you walking alone outside here?” Chase’s voice echoed from behind me.
I turned around and looked at him.
“And why do you look so upset?” He added, giving me a skeptical glance. “Is it because you talked about your ex-husband during breakfast?”
I scratched my eyes with my pinky finger and responded with a chuckle. “I don’t think my mood is any of your business,” I replied coldly.
My aim was to push Chase away.
I knew he was trouble.
And I wasn’t ready for another messy situation.
Chase didn’t flinch. “I’m just trying to be a good sibling. Why are you always acting cold to me?”
I stopped walking and sat down on a bench close to the fountain. “I’m not acting cold to you. I just don’t like being bothered.”
He sat down beside me. “When you first came, you seemed like a sweet girl. But now—-.”
I didn’t let him finish. “It’s not my fault you judged me without getting to know me first.”
He chuckled. “So are you trying to say that you’re a rude person, and I just mistook you for someone nice?”
I nodded. “Yes.”
He was silent for a few seconds, then he spoke again. “Well, that’s a shame,” he said, a slow mischievous smirk spreading across his face. “I’ve always had a thing for rude people. They’re the realest out there.”
I kept my eyes fixed on the fountain.
I wasn’t surprised to hear him say something like that. From the first day I met him, I already knew he was crazy.
“So you’re trying to say that you prefer rude people? And you don’t mind the things they’ll say to you?”
Chase shrugged. “Not really. I don’t expect anyone to disrespect me and say mean things to me,” he clarified. “But the way you’re behaving now—acting cold and all— it’s not necessarily a deal breaker for me.”
I held back a chuckle.
Chase was out of his mind.
“You’re only saying these because you think I’m acting this way to push you away, and you want me to give up if you convince me that it’s not going to work.”
Chase smiled. “You’re smart.”
“You look smart, but you don’t act smart,” I replied, my voice tinged with as much indifference as I could muster.
I’d expected him to get offended, but he wasn’t.
He still had a smile plastered across his face. “So you mean that I’m smart? And also good looking?” Chase asked, leaning back on the bench as he stretched his legs in front of him.
“Yes, you’re smart and good-looking,” I replied sarcastically. “Really smart.”
Chase laughed. “You’re interesting,” he muttered.
I rubbed my temple and shot him a curious glance. “How?”
“It’s fun talking to you.”
A low breath escaped my lips.
To be honest, I actually enjoyed talking to him. Even though we had only spoken for a few minutes, I could tell that his presence was therapeutic.
I also enjoyed our conversation, but I couldn’t say that out loud to him. It would only give him more ammunition.
And I didn’t want to give Chase any more reasons to keep chasing me.
I looked away, fixing my gaze back on the fountain. “If you had good intentions towards me, maybe we would have turned out to be good friends.”
Chase sat upright, pushing his hair back. “What do you mean?” he asked softly. “I don’t have bad intentions for you.”
I swallowed. “You just want to sleep with me.”
He shook his head. “No, I don’t see you as a casual hookup. I don't just want to only sleep with you, I want to get to know you.”
I held back a scoff.
“So what happens after you get to know me and sleep with me?” I demanded. “What will be next in your playbook?”
“Playbook?” he responded, his voice defensive. “I don’t have a playbook. And I’m different from the version of me you’ve created in your head.”
“Really?”
He nodded. “Yes, really.”
“Nothing can happen between us. I’m your stepsister and our parents are married,” I continued, my voice firm. “Whatever fantasy you’ve created in your head isn’t going to happen.”
His face fell.
He was quiet for a few minutes.
The silence between us stretched out.
The steady splashing of the fountain water seemed louder now, filling the space where his comebacks usually lived.
From the corner of my eye, I watched him look down at his hands. For the first time since I met him, his confident demeanor had cracked.
He was probably struggling to come up with a response to my last sentence.
“You don’t have anything to say anymore?” I asked after a long beat of silence.
Chase chuckled softly. “I do.”
“Then talk.”
He fixed his gaze on me.
“When I held you earlier, did you feel anything?”
I shifted uncomfortably on the bench. I wasn’t expecting him to ask me that question.
But it didn’t matter because I didn’t owe him the truth.
“You really want to relive that moment?” I asked in a mocking tone. “You’re asking me if I felt something in a situation where I ended up laughing at you.”
He stroked his chin. “Yes, and I need you to be honest with me,” he answered sharply. “Just because you laughed at me doesn’t cancel out the probability that you might’ve felt something.”
I exhaled. “Chase, I didn’t feel anything when you touched me. I don’t see you in that manner,” I lied confidently, hoping that it was convincing enough.
Chase stared at me for a long moment, his eyes searching my face like he would automatically know the truth if he stared a little bit closer.
The mischievous sparkle in his gaze dimmed, replaced by disappointment and doubt.
“You’re lying,” he said quietly, almost to himself.
My heart slammed against my ribs.
“What?”
“You’re lying, Elena.”
I stood up immediately.
“I’m not lying, Chase. Maybe your ego is just bruised and you can’t seem to take no for an answer.”
“We will see.”
What the hell did he mean by that?
- Writer
