That Forever: A Small Town, Friends-to-Lovers Romance (That Boy® (Chase & Devaney) Book 3)

That Forever: Chapter 6



Chase walks me to the sorority house. I have a frat mixer to go to, but I made plans with him for after. Things have been a little awkward between us since the puke incident, and I know it’s just that he feels bad. And I’m sure I didn’t help things when I said that I wasn’t thrilled with how things were going either. I didn’t mean with him. I meant, like, in general. With having time together alone. If it wasn’t below freezing out, I’d hook up with him in his car, but we’d probably get caught or get frostbite on some important parts, knowing our luck.

“I’ll see you later,” he says, giving me a kiss.

“Yes, you will,” I tell him, trying to sound positive.

The good news is that Alyssa isn’t wallowing in sadness over the breakup anymore. Instead, she’s moved on to hooking up with guys in her ex’s fraternity in an attempt to make him jealous.

I haven’t told Chase, but I was glad he didn’t come in with me on Saturday. Because as if the night hadn’t already been bad enough, I walked in on Alyssa and some guy doing it on my study desk.

I haven’t talked to her since. Because really? She has her own freaking desk. And I have disinfected the shit out of that thing, and I still can’t bring myself to sit down at it.

“How’s it going with the best friend?” Britta asks me when I’m at the mixer. She’s the one who saw Chase at a game last semester and said age didn’t matter. That she’d totally date him.

“Pretty good,” I say brightly, lying through my teeth.

Well, not really lying. We still love each other. It’s not like we’re going to break up over this stupid stuff. It’s just not going as we planned. Which is disappointing to us both.

“And how are you dealing with the girls?”

“Well, everyone has been friendly for the most part. I enjoy being in the sorority,” I lie again. Because honestly, I’m disappointed in it, too.

She laughs. “I meant with all the girls who must be after the quarterback. You saw how the girls were when he was just up for a game. A lot of girls are ruthless. They are willing to do anything to latch on to their ticket to fame and fortune. Including lying, cheating, and doing a lot of things to make you question your relationship. Can you handle that? Have you had to deal with that yet?”

Uh, no, and I’d better never have to, I think, but then I realize something. “Why does it sound like you are speaking from experience?”

“Probably because I am,” she says, leading me over to a couch in the main salon of the house. “I dated one of those guys my freshman year. He was older. Basketball star. The groupies were one thing. I mostly ignored them. But one girl confronted me, told me she was pregnant with his baby and that he’d been cheating on me with her since the start of our relationship.”

“That’s horrible,” I say, feeling my gut wrench. “Was it true?”

“Well, she wasn’t actually pregnant, but it didn’t matter. It ruined us.” Britta is a junior, and she still looks distraught over this more than two years later.

“Why?”

“Simple,” she says. “Lack of trust. I confronted him. He was upset that I didn’t trust him. Said he was going to the NBA and I needed to be strong and confident in myself and our relationship if we were going to work. I then pointed out numerous beautiful, strong women in the public eye who had been cheated on by athletes and in situations like this. He said he was different.”

“Was he?”

“I thought so in my heart, but my mind … long story short, we broke up. He went on to the NBA and is still single.”

“My mother struggled with that with my dad. He was a quarterback, too.”

“Oh, trust me, I know who Danny Diamond is. And I know he’s your dad, but he’s hot, like, for an older guy. Did your dad ever cheat on your mom?”

“No, but my mom did. She says she did it because she felt the need to compete. Or something like that,” I say, rolling my eyes.

“Hmm. Interesting. I guess the insecurities can go both ways.”

“I think so. But you’re right. There were a lot of girls just like that in our high school. My brother takes full advantage of the attention, but not Chase. It’s just not him.”

“Because of you?” she asks.

I nod and can’t help but break out into a wide smile. “Yeah, because of me. He says he’s always loved me.”

“Be sure to let him know. Just like sports, relationships are a team effort.”

Of course, I’m thinking about this during the whole mixer.

When we meet up later, he looks excited about something, so I ask him what’s up.

“The guys, like some of my teammates, invited me out with them tonight. To a party.”

“I’d think a party is the last thing you’d want.”

“I know. I’m not planning to drink, but they get together a lot. And I think because I took care of Treyvon while he was drunk, they feel like—I don’t know—like they can trust me maybe. And I’ve been feeling a little lost here, as far as teammates go. You know how it is when you don’t know anyone and you’re starting over. You had to do that with your sorority last semester. Even though you should have instant friends because you are together and have so much in common, it doesn’t work that way, you know?”

I smile at him. “Yeah, I know. And I hope you have fun, Chase. You deserve it.”

He walks me to my dorm, comes inside, sits on my bed, and smiles at me. “Alyssa out tonight?”

“Yes,” I say with a grin, knowing what he’s thinking.

“Do you think she will be out for a while longer?”

“I think so.” I launch myself on top of him, pinning him down on the bed. “We should at least have a little time. And I know just how I’d like to spend it,” I say, giving him a deep kiss.

When things start to get more heated, I hop up, grab his hand, and take a seat on my desk. I mean, I’ve cleaned the heck out of it, and I think replacing that memory with a new one with Chase will make it all better.

“This looks fun,” he says, grinning like an idiot. “Remember at Thanksgiving, when we got all hot and heavy in the laundry room?”

“And in the bathroom,” I remind him.

“We just can’t help it,” he says, pulling me closer to him in preparation. “We’re meant to be together. Always.”

“So, I have a secret,” I tell him.

“What? You aren’t supposed to keep secrets from me,” he says, tenderly cupping my cheek.

“The other night, after the puke-fest, remember how you kissed me at the door but didn’t come inside?”

“Yeah,” he says.

“I walked in to find Alyssa and some random guy having sex on this very desk.”

“On your desk?” he says, his eyes going wide. He glances down at it, his nose scrunched up.

“Don’t worry. Trust me, I disinfected the thing, like, ten times. But I’ve yet to be able to work at it.”

“Is that why you wanted to do it here?”

“Yes.” I give him a sexy smirk. “You just helped me erase that memory, so I can actually sit back down here and study.”

His face moves toward me, his lips landing on my neck, then kissing their way to my mouth. “Should we do it again on hers?”

I can’t help but laugh. “No, but we’d better get dressed.”

“When we get our own place, we’re never wearing—” He stops mid-sentence because all of a sudden, there are voices outside my door.

“Quick,” Chase says, grabbing his clothes, carrying me into the bathroom, and shutting the door.

I can’t help but start giggling.

He kisses me again, then sets me down and says, “Put your robe on, and then we’ll go back out.”

“Ooh la la,” Alyssa slurs when we do. “Just what have you been doing in our bathroom?”

“I was sitting on the toilet, watching her get ready for bed,” Chase manages to say with a straight face, but then he winks at me.

Alyssa turns up her nose. “Huh.”

We don’t really give her a chance to say anything else. Chase takes my hand, walks me to the door, and gives me a sweet good-bye kiss.

“Have fun tonight,” I whisper to him.

“I’ll text you when I get home, okay?”

And that makes me feel good. Regardless of my earlier conversation with Britta, I know I don’t have to worry about Chase.

“You don’t have to, really, but okay.”

I wake up with a start, wondering what time it is and feeling bad that I probably missed Chase’s goodnight text.

I grab my phone, see that its past two in the morning, and discover he hasn’t texted yet.

And I can’t help but smile. If he’s still out, he’s having fun. Making new friends. And I know he needs that.

I send him a quick text.

Me: Hope you’re having fun! It’s late, so I’m going to sleep. Talk to you in the morning. I can’t wait to hear all about it.


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