Blitz (Blast Brothers #3) - Sabrina Stark Page 0,38
what he meant. Chase did have a certain playboy reputation. But to be fair, I had no way of knowing whether Chase did the pursuing or was merely happy to say yes to whatever offers came his way – unless, apparently, the offers came from me.
The reminder wasn't a jolly one. Not only had he assumed that I wanted to have sex with him, he'd also turned me down.
It wasn't merely insulting. It was doubly insulting.
But my parents didn't need to know any of this, just like they didn't need to know that Chase had gotten me fired.
I loved my family more than anything in this world. We were the kind of family that stuck together no matter what. And for this, I was eternally grateful.
Still, there was a downside. If they knew how awful Chase had acted, especially in the beginning, they would almost certainly hate him.
They wouldn't even care about the festival – or the fact that Chase was a rich celebrity, or that his TV show was a personal favorite in their own house.
They'd totally despise him. And they wouldn't bother to hide it either.
Cripes, my dad seemed to hate him already.
As for my mom, she was looking more exasperated with every passing moment. With a sound of irritation, she said, "Bob."
My dad turned to look. "Yeah?"
"She's twenty-five, not fifteen."
I smiled. That's exactly what I'd been thinking. My mom and I really were a lot alike. And the way I saw it, this wasn't a bad thing.
My dad practically snorted, "So what? The guy's a jackass."
No kidding.
Still, I had to point out the obvious. "But I thought he was your favorite character."
"Sure," my dad said. "On the TV. Not in my daughter's pants."
"Bob!"
Again, my dad turned to look. "Yeah?"
My mom sighed. "You're embarrassing her."
Yup. He sure was.
At least my mom was acting rational.
But then, she gave me a good, long look even as she supposedly spoke to my dad. "Our daughter is very smart. I'm sure if they do get…intimate… she will use plenty of protection."
Oh, God.
Plenty of protection?
As if one condom wouldn’t be enough?
I sighed. I really did need my own place.
In the living room, my mom was still giving me that look. "Right?"
"Uh…" Gosh, where to begin? "Honestly, you don't need to worry. Our relationship is all business."
My dad leaned forward. "He didn't try to kiss you, did he?"
Oh, for crying out loud. "No."
He gave me the squinty-eye. "You sure?"
"Of course I'm sure."
I didn't get it. My dad might be a little old-fashioned in some ways, but he'd never acted like this before. And he knew I wasn't a virgin. He had to know, because my mom knew, and they told each other everything.
Plus, I was a grown woman. Until just a couple of weeks ago, I'd been living in my own place, where I could've done just about anything with anyone.
When my dad's only reply was a sullen look, I added, "I think I'd remember if Chase Blastoviak tried to kiss me."
Boy, would I ever.
In fact, I could almost imagine it. He had a nice mouth and a terrific smile. If someone smiled that good, they'd surely be a great kisser, right?
My mom asked, "So, what are the details?"
I was still thinking about Chase's lips – and maybe a few other parts. Absently, I replied, "Sorry, what?"
"The sponsorship," my mom said. "You said it's for the Tomato Festival and a hundred other things?"
"Right," I said. "Other festivals. It's a huge ad blitz."
"How huge?"
"Actually," I said, "we didn't get into the specifics."
My dad asked, "So how do you know he's legit?"
What kind of question was that? "You know he's legit. You even watch his show."
In the living room, my dad looked far from convinced. "You get anything in writing?"
"Not yet," I admitted. "But I'm meeting with him tomorrow afternoon." I smiled. "Trust me, it'll be great."
Or at least I sure hoped it would be great.
With Chase Blastoviak, I never quite knew.
Chapter 27
Chase
In my condo, the sound of knocking jolted me awake. Earlier, I'd fallen asleep on the sofa while binge-watching something forgettable on the TV.
The TV was still on, but the volume was on low. I gave the screen another glance and decided that the show looked just as dull as it had when I'd dozed off.
I sat up and glanced at the nearby clock. The time was just past midnight, and I'd been asleep for maybe two hours.
Alone.
By choice.
What the fuck?
I was wearing jeans, but no shirt. No shoes or socks either.