The smell hit me–chemical and hot and weirdly intimate.
“Feeling it yet?” Chase asked.
I smiled. “Getting there.”
He handed me the can, but before I could take it, he stepped into my space. “Wasn’t talking about paint,” he said. “I dare you to kiss me.”
I didn’t think. I surged forward, grabbing his hoodie, crashing into him.
Our teeth bumped. I made a weird noise in my throat. His nose hit mine, and I pulled back, embarrassed.
“Sorry,” I whispered.
He shook his head, already leaning in again. “Don’t be.”
This time it clicked–his mouth slanted over mine, warm and hungry. He tasted like mint and nerves. His hands slid under my shirt, fingers tracing up my sides, and I shivered.
“You sure?” he murmured.
“Yeah.” My voice cracked. “I want this. I want you.”
“Good,” he said, lifting my shirt the rest of the way off.
My skin prickled under the gym’s cold air. I crossed my arms over my chest, suddenly way too aware of how exposed I was. “Zoey,” he said, tugging gently at my wrists. “You don’t have to hide. I want to see you.”
That should’ve sounded cheesy, but it didn’t.
He stripped next–shirt first, then unzipping his jeans. My eyes locked on the line of his stomach. I tried not to stare. Failed. When he reached for my jeans, I nodded. “They’re gonna be tight.”
He chuckled, trying to tug them down. “You weren’t kidding.”
We both fumbled. I tripped over my own foot and almost fell. He caught me, but his laugh was breathless. “This is officially the least smooth sex ever attempted.”
“Shut up,” I muttered, grinning. “We’re doing fine.”
His fingers slid into my underwear. I froze, breath stuck in my throat.
“Still okay?” he asked.
“Yes,” I whispered. “Please.”
He rubbed slow circles, and my hips jerked. My legs felt shaky. I grabbed at his shoulders to keep from falling over.
“God, you’re wet,” he said, voice low.
I bit my lip, embarrassed. “Is that–okay?”
He looked up. “It’s perfect.”
Then he kissed me again, lower this time, until I was panting and grabbing his hair and trying not to make noises that echoed in the empty gym. When he finally pulled off his boxers and reached for a condom, my stomach flipped.
He looked me in the eye as he rolled it on. “You can still stop this.”
“I don’t want to.”
He lined up, pushed in slow, and I gasped–loud, surprised.
12:31 AM
“Too much?” he said, frozen.
“No,” I said, gripping his arms. “Just–go slow.”
He did. Every inch felt like pressure and stretch and heat. I winced. He kissed my cheek. “Just breathe.”
I did. Eventually the burn faded, and the ache turned into something sharper, deeper.
“You feel good,” he whispered, voice shaking.
I wrapped my legs around him, drawing him deeper. He groaned.
“Holy shit,” he muttered. “Zoey–fuck.”
His hips moved faster. My nails dug into his back. I didn’t care about the cold floor or the echo of skin slapping in the empty gym.
I cared about the way his breath hitched, the way his hands gripped my thighs, the way I could feel him everywhere.
I moaned without meaning to. He cursed under his breath. “You’re gonna fucking kill me.‘
I felt like I was unraveling–raw and open and completely out of control. Every thrust pushed another sound out wave of heat curling low in my belly.
“Chase,” I gasped. “I–I think I’m-”
Yeah?” he said, kissing the side of my neck. “Let go.
I did.
After, he collapsed next to me, both of us sweaty and flushed and blinking at the ceiling.
I couldn’t stop laughing. “That was a disaster.”
He grinned, propping himself up on one elbow. “That was perfect.”
of me, another
skin buzzed. He was
I pulled his hoodie over my bare chest and curled into him, still catching my breath. My thighs ached. My warm against my side, arm draped over me, our legs tangled in a way that felt like maybe this could mean something.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” I mumbled, voice hoarse.
“You don’t have to,” he said, pressing a kiss to my temple. “Just… don’t shut me out.”
I didn’t answer. I stared at the ceiling instead, my heart still trying to slow down.
He shifted beside me. “Zoey.”
“Mhm?”
“Why me?”
I blinked. “What?”
“I mean… you’ve been spinning out ever since Miles. And I just-” He sat up a little. “I need to know if this is real. Or if I’m just your middle finger to him.”
His words hit like cold water.
“You think I’m using you?” I said, sitting up, the hoodie slipping off one shoulder.
“I think you’re trying to hurt someone who already hurt you,” he said, voice quiet but sharp. “And I was convenient.”
“That’s not fair.”
“I just gave you everything,” he said, jaw tight. “And now you won’t even look at me.”
“Because you’re accusing me of treating you like a prop in my emotional breakdown!”
“Am I wrong?”
I flinched. “You don’t know what it’s like. To feel invisible. To be left and laughed at and then
“I don’t,” he said, softer now. “But I know what it’s like to want someone for real. And I tho. Pected to just be fine.”
I stood up, pulling the hoodie tighter around me. “So’what, you regret it?”
“No,” he said, after a beat. “But I regret asking for more than you’re ready to give.”
That stung. Because maybe he was right.
And maybe I wasn’t ready to admit it.
So I turned away. “I should go.”
you did too.”
And maybe I wasn’t ready to admit it.
So I turned away. “I should go.”
He didn’t stop me. Just sat there on the gym floor, watching me like he didn’t know me at all.
