Not You It's Me (Boston Love #1) - Julie Johnson Page 0,97
whisper miserably. “Kind and generous and thoughtful…” I don’t even mention how good he is in bed because, knowing my friend, that conversation will take at least three hours to get through, which will definitely make me late for the gala. “He’s freaking perfect. And I’m a disaster on wheels. What if I embarrass him in front of all these people, tonight? What if I look like a fool, standing next to someone like him?”
“Gemma.” Shelby rolls her eyes. “You’ve never seen yourself very clearly. I mean, sure, you’ve got your share of problems, what with the obvious daddy issues and clear avoidance of attachment when it comes to men—”
“Gee, thanks, Shelbs.”
“What I’m trying to say is… no, you’re not perfect. Nobody is. Not even Chase Freaking Croft – though, admittedly, with an ass like that, he comes pretty close.” She walks over to me, slides her arms around my frame, and hugs me gently. “Don’t sell yourself short, Gem. He’s lucky to have you on his arm tonight, not the other way around. Trust me — I wouldn’t waste this dress on anyone who didn’t deserve it.”
I blink away tears as I hug her back, trying not to ruin the makeup she’s spent the last hour applying with meticulous precision.
“You really think so?”
“I do.” She pulls back to look at me. “And, if it’s really bad, call me. I’ll stage an emergency extraction. Chrissy’s preggo, but she can probably still drive a getaway car, if necessary.”
I laugh. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”
***
Chase is tense the entire ride across the city. Besides a few short words to Evan, he hasn’t said a thing in almost twenty minutes. The privacy partition is up, closing us together in the back seat, and as time creeps by and we near our destination, the silence only seems to get heavier.
“You okay?” I ask finally, when it’s too much to bear any longer.
He startles at the sound of my voice, as though I’ve brought him back from somewhere far away. His gaze slides to mine and even in the darkness of the car, I can see demons still lurking in the depths of his eyes. He doesn’t answer my question. Instead, he reaches out, tags me around the waist, and tugs me closer, so I’m sprawled across his lap. One large hand wraps around the nape of my neck, pulling my face in so our foreheads rest against each other and our breaths mingle. His other hand traces absent circles on the bare skin of my back.
He’s wrinkling my dress, mussing my hair, but I don’t fight him — not now, when he so clearly needs the comfort of physical touch. Laying my hands on his chest, I stare into his eyes, so close to mine, and search my mind for the right words to say.
Before I can come up with anything, he closes the distance between us and kisses me — hard, rough, like my kiss might erase all the anxious, angry thoughts swimming around his head. He doesn’t give me an inch of space to pull away, to protest, to question his sudden desperation. He just keeps kissing me, moving his mouth over mine until my lipstick is long gone and the air is stolen from my lungs. Until I’m forced to pull away just to catch my breath.
“Chase…” I can barely summon enough restraint to keep from pressing my lips back against his. But, no matter how much I’d like to continue getting lost in him, a small, unfamiliar voice in the back of my mind is crying out that there’s something more important than a physical need, right now. Something deeper than these drugging kisses, than the numbing effect of passion on exposed nerves.
With another guy, I wouldn’t care. I’d let him bury his problems beneath a mountain of lust and enjoy the avalanche that followed. But this isn’t some random guy.
It’s Chase.
So I make myself take a breath and say, “Tell me what’s wrong.”
He sighs and I feel the gust of his breath across my still-tingling lips. There’s a weighty pause before he finally speaks.
“I should’ve prepared you.” His tone is closed-off, tight with self-restraint. “My family… They aren’t good people.”
“Chase, after meeting Brett — who, I might add, makes Donald Trump look like a good guy — I wasn’t exactly expecting the Brady Bunch.”
His lips twitch.
“It’s going to be fine.” I kiss his clean-shaven cheek and feel his arms tighten around me in response. “You’ll see.”