Give Me Yesterday Page 18

  I’d made up my mind to go to him, to tell him I loved him. I was starting to believe that Ben and Sarah would want me to find love again, to be happy. When I got his call, I was so scared I almost lost it, but it was clear that it was my turn to be the strong one.

  Now, I’m watching him up on that stage, the brilliant professor speaking about achieving a future. The one you want. Working for it and never giving up on your dreams. He’s mesmerizing and I can see why students love him. I’m sure the girls spend his class drooling over him, but even so, they’ll learn, but Chase would never have it be otherwise.

  After his speech, the crowd roars with approval, all the graduates clapping and stomping. Chase’s grin is a little goofy as he steps down from the stage, proud, but also bashful. It’s adorable. When he sees me, his grin becomes a full blown smile, one I only ever see when he looks at me. The only problem with that sinful smile is that I don’t have an extra pair of panties with me. Not that it would matter, I’d need to change those the next time he looked at me anyway.

  They begin calling out names and when Chase reaches my side, he glances at his watch, grabs my wrist, and pulls me out into the hallway. “We’ve got at least forty-five minutes. It should be plenty,” he mumbles distractedly, towing me behind him. He pokes his head through a door, and evidently finding what he’s looking for, he yanks me inside. This is followed by the slamming of the door and flipping of the lock. We’re in a lecture hall, curved rows of chairs ascending to the back wall, all facing a single desk and blackboard.

  He’s pulling me toward the desk, and I’m still trying to figure out what the hell is going on. “Chase, what are we—” He cuts off my question with his mouth slamming down on mine.

  “I’ve wanted to fuck you on a desk in a classroom since the first time I saw you in your naughty librarian outfit,” he says with a growl. His hands are already busy trying to remove my clothes, while I slap them away, protesting.

  “We can’t! What if someone sees us?”

  He has somehow successfully unbuttoned my top. “Everyone’s at graduation, baby. Plus, I locked the door.” There goes my bra. “Now, be an obedient student and do what Dr. Monroe says.”

  He gives me quite a test over the next thirty minutes, then announces I get an A+.

  Chase is holding my hand, his thumb rubbing softly on the skin as we walk into a little house where a reception is being held for one of his students. The sweet gesture isn’t calming my nerves. I’m about to meet his best friend, whose mother is throwing the party, and his family. What if they hate me, I mean if they’ve heard of me. I have a reputation for being the queen bee bitch. I look down and wonder if my pink sundress is too casual, but then I remember Chase is in jeans and a button down shirt. No, I’m dressed okay. I think.

  We step inside the door and I smooth my hair back into a ponytail—nice and neat—and paste a pleasant smile on my face. Chase gets one look at me and starts laughing. Then he reaches over, grabs the elastic band and yanks it from my hair. He threads his fingers through the strands and messes it all up. “Chase!” I hiss. “I want to look presentable.”

  He laughs again, his eyes twinkling. Stop swooning! He leans down for a quick kiss. “You look amazing, babe.”

  “Chase! Get your lazy ass in here!” I hear yelled from the next room. The house is small, but it looks cozy and lived in, with photos and mementos scattered everywhere. We enter the kitchen, which is attached to an open living room. Both spaces are packed with people, all of whom call out to him when we enter. A young guy in his early twenties, with shagging blond hair, and a face that must bring the chicks in droves, walks up and slaps Chase on the back. “Took you long enough, asshole. You stop for—” He stops speaking when he sees me, then a knowing look comes over his face. “I see you were distracted with dessert.” He looks at me intently. “Tell me, are the rumors true? Is his junk as—ow! Fuck!” Chase punches him in the arm and after he swears, an older woman—his mother I assume—whacks him on the back of the head.

  Chase pulls me tightly into his side, glaring at the guy. “Cort, this is my girlfriend, Tori. Tori, this pathetic excuse for a man is Cort.”

  Cort grins at me and stretches out his hand, but Chase slaps it away. Cort’s grin gets bigger. “You’re not a stalker, are you?” he asks, and Chase groans.

  “Shut it, Cort. Or I’ll shut it for you.”

  Cort laughs and then he snatches the hand of a beautiful girl with long brown hair and caramel skin, as she walks by, bringing her over to us. “This is Blair, the love of my life.” Blair blushes, and gives me a tiny wave.

  Chase gives her a one armed hug, and a kiss on the forehead. “Hey, Blair. I guess the brainwashing hasn’t worn off yet. You realize that if this goes on much longer, I’ll have to kill him, right? It’s for your own—ow!” Cort socks Chase in the arm.

  “Alright, knock it off asshole,” he says, earning himself another slap to the head from his mom and Blair. “Geeze! You girls are mean,” he whines playfully. “Grab some food, relax, have fun, show this buffoon what it means to party.” Then with a reciprocated chin lift and a fist bump, he follows his girl into the throng of people.

  Chase keeps his arm around my shoulder as we wade our way through a crowd of freshly graduated kids, standing around in their gowns like they want to make sure anyone who looks at them knows, for sure, that they graduated earlier today. Chase keeps me tucked into his side and as he introduces me, it’s always the same, “This is Tori, my girlfriend.” Emphasis on the my girlfriend part like he’s staking a claim. I should probably be annoyed. I think it’s in the girl handbook to be, but he’s so damn cute, I throw the girl code out the window.

  Finally, we reach an older man with dark brown hair, a tall lean stature, and chocolate eyes I would recognize anywhere. This has to be Chase’s dad. Standing next to him is a beautiful woman that is practically the female carbon copy of Chase, with the same brown hair and eyes, only her glasses are red, almost heart shaped, and she’s slightly older. He embraces each of them warmly, then tugs me forward to stand in front of him, his arms looped around my waist.

  “Tori, this is my dad, and that beautiful pain in the ass, is my sister, Penelope.”

  I shake their hands confidently, despite the butterflies in my stomach.

  Penelope smiles with genuine warmth and it sets aside some of my nerves. “We’ve been anxious to meet you, Tori. I’ve never seen my brother act like such a lovesick fool and I wanted to meet the woman who could take the place of that stupid car in his heart.”

  Chase gasps and my hand flies to my mouth to stifle a giggle. I fail miserably and start laughing. He leans down, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. “Traitor.”

  We chit chat with them for a while and I learn that Penelope is a riot. She almost seems eccentric, but underneath the wild exterior is a solid mom, wife, and sister. She and Chase rib each other a lot, but his admiration and love for his sister are written all over his face. I instantly fall in love with them and they put me at ease, making me feel safe, and free to be myself.

  Eventually Cort and Blair wander over to join us, and we talk until we realize that the room has emptied. Cort leads us out to their tiny back yard, where they’ve set up one of those small round fire pits. There are comfortable patio chairs positioned around it and the group of us, now including Cort’s mom, Sandy, sit around the fire. Sandy breaks out the makings for S’mores and I almost clap my hands with glee.

  I haven’t had this treat since I was in high school, but I can still remember what it tastes like and my mouth is watering. Chase makes a couple of S’mores, then returns to his seat. Before he sits, he hauls me up, plops down and settles me on his lap. I feel my cheeks heat up and I surreptitiously glance around, hoping no one is paying us any attention. Of course, to my utter mortification, everyone is watching us, but Chase doesn’t seem to care. He instead lifts a S’more to my lips, tapping to get me to open my mouth.

  He leans forward and kisses me, hiding
a little lick to the side of my mouth. “Chocolate,” he explains, his voice smoldering. That voice, it turns me the fuck on. Not the time, Tori. Not the time. Chase’s hand slips stealthily down my back, all the way to my ass, giving it a covert squeeze. I throw him a warning glare, but he just smiles innocently at me. That damn panty melting smile.

  “I have an announcement.” Chase says this to the group, but his eyes remain locked on mine. All the talking ceases and I can feel the proverbial spotlight on us. It’s definitely not like being in court. Well, okay it is, but this time I’m on the witness stand. Yeah, I’m not a fan of the role reversal.

  He finally looks out at the people around us, while I stare at my hands. When the hell did you get so self-conscious, woman? Excellent question.

  “Tori and I are moving in together.”

  His statement is met with a mixture of gasps and catcalls, and I look up to see who the sounds came from, really hoping it wasn’t his sister and dad. My eyes connect with his sister’s and her hand is covering her mouth, indicating that she’s one of the gaspers. Great. Then she removes her hand and she’s wearing a big smile, her eyes sparkling.

  “Chase, that’s great.” She breathes excitedly. “I’m glad a girl has finally tamed you.” She winks at me and I laugh.

  “Joining the land of the whipped, huh, Chase?” Cort chortles.

  Chase makes a face at him. “We’re just moving in together, Cort. Not all of us have your fetish for leather and whips.”

  “Says the man with leather seats in his car that have seen more action than James Bond.”

  I bury my face in my hands. This can’t go anywhere good. I lift my head and narrow my eyes in censure. “Are you two twelve today? Think you could put on your big boy pants and act like an adult?”

  “He started it,” Cort retorts, and I assume he’s getting a similar lecture from Blair.

  Chase is grinning at me unrepentantly. “What’s the fun in that?” Then he nuzzles his face in my neck and as I’m sure was his intention, I get all gooey inside and forget that I was annoyed.

  The rest of the night is full of fun and laughter. Before we know it, we’re creeping up on two o’clock in the morning. Luckily, I had Stacey clear my Friday schedule after finding Chase the way I did. We say our goodbyes and when Penelope hugs me, she smiles brightly. “We’ve got our Chase back. Thank you, Tori. I’ve never seen him so happy, even before the accident.” Her words warm me, knowing that I’ve succeeded in helping Chase, just as he has for me.

  When we get back to Chase’s—our home—he lifts me up and carries me inside. I laugh, “What are you doing, crazy?”

  “Carrying you over the threshold of your new home,” he practically sings.

  “That’s for a bride and groom, silly.”

  Chase’s eyes glitter. “I’ll do it then, too.”

  Before I can dwell, and start to hyperventilate, Chase takes me to the bedroom and keeps me up the rest of the night, “christening” (his words, of course) my new home, bed, shower, floor…

  “It’s yellow.” The attendant snaps her gum at me, her bored eyes skimming the people behind me. This one is new, Brittney is her name. I already want to yell at her.

  “I didn’t ask for yellow,” I seethe through clenched teeth. “I asked for Goldfinch.”

  “I accidentally typed in the code for Golden Honey,” she tells me, blowing a bubble, as if this makes it any fucking better. “I can’t tell a difference, honestly.”

  Like her opinion fucking matters to me.

  “I found those paintbrushes,” Tori chirps as she comes up behind me.

  Ignoring her, I glare at Brittney. “Goddammit, just make another can!”

  Her eyes widen before she snatches the phone. “Yeah, um, I need a manager. Yep, an irate customer.”

  I’m visibly shaking when Tori forces me to turn toward her. Her blonde hair has been swept into a messy bun and she’s gorgeous. It simmers my rage marginally.

  “Chase, honey, calm down,” Tori tells me, planting a kiss on my lips.

  I groan and run my fingers through my hair. “I’ll calm down when she gives me what I ordered.”

  “Sir, do we have a problem?” an older gentleman asks as he rounds the corner.

  Snapping my head in his direction, I hold out the paint swatch to him. “Goldfinch. It’s what I ordered. Golden Honey is what I received. I want a gallon of Goldfinch, eggshell, indoor paint.”

  He glances at the newbie and nods. “Brittney, why don’t you go hop on one of those registers while I help this customer.”

  I let out a rush of breath and a calmness washes over me.

  I will have my fucking Goldfinch.

  “I really like Belinda,” Tori says from the passenger seat. Yesterday we ended up painting the wall Goldfinch. Turns out, it’s still the wrong fucking color.

  “She’s a good gal,” I agree.

  I glance over at Tori all decked out in a casual pair of yoga pants and a tank. She’s so fucking cute when she’s not trying to be a badass lawyer. It’s hard to believe that we’ve been moving her stuff into my house, aside from our trip to our group meeting, and are headed back to her place to grab more.

  I’m fucking elated.

  But something niggles at my heart.

  She knows my past was rough but I never came out and told her about the accident. This girl is my entire damn world, yet she doesn’t know the most critical piece of me that I let crush me each day.

  I will tell her.

  Tori loves me, unlike Ashley. The one who abandoned me when I needed her most.

  Tori promised she will never leave me and I believe that with every part of my soul.

  I can do this.

  Pulling a U-turn, I take the car back toward the florist. This past Tuesday, the day of my meltdown, I missed taking her flowers. I’ll take Tori with me—show her why I have a gaping hole in my heart.

  “Where are we going?” she questions.

  I smile at her. “The florist.”

  Her face contorts into a confused one.

  “They may have daffodils. And if they don’t,” I tease, “I need someone to keep me from doing stupid shit. Now that you officially live with me, you’re that person. Lucky you.”

  I chuckle but her lips purse into a firm line. She knows as well as I do that flowers, for me, are a touchy fucking subject. Just like my goddamned yellow wall.

  “Chase, maybe we should do this another day. Like Tuesday?” she attempts, her features unreadable.

  I glance in the mirror and regard my reflection. Dilated eyes. Clenched jaw. I’m a man on a mission and won’t be deterred.

  “We’ll do this and be back before sundown. I can swing through that pizza place we love on the way home. And maybe we can take a hot bath later. My muscles are sore as fuck from carrying that box with all your shoes. Seriously, how many shoes can one woman have? I’m going to have to turn one of the bedrooms into your closet,” I say with a laugh.

  She gives in and giggles. “I like the idea of a shoe room. Then, we can go shopping where I can buy more to fill it up.”

  We laugh and flirt the entire way to the florist. When they thankfully have daffodils, I buy three bundles this time, we then head to our next destination.

  “Where are we going?” she asks again.

  I flash her a grin and grip her thigh. “Someplace very special to me, baby. A place I have gone every week for a very long time. Even though I feel sick at having to go, I always leave feeling uplifted. I need to share it with you.”

  She nods and squeezes my hand.

  As we get on the interstate to head out of the downtown area, I sink back into my seat and lose myself in a memory.

  The ground is soft under my feet after an unusually rainy summer. After a ton of begging from my mom, she finally told me where to come. To visit her. Earlier, before coming, I stopped off at the floral shop. I spent far too long in there obsessing over the perfect flowers to bring to her. After an hour of driving the
clerk crazy, I finally settled on the daffodils.

  They remind me of her dress.

  Trotting down the hill, I read each headstone until I find hers.

  Tons of flowers litter the grave and I bite back the nausea in my belly. It should have been me, not her.

  Life’s not fair.

  At least that’s what Mom says.

  Setting my daffodils on top of the stone, I then plop down on the fresh dirt, dirtying up my jeans. I’ve only been released from the hospital a few days now but it’s been weeks since the accident. Soon, grass will grow over the dirt beneath me and she’ll forever be sealed away.

  My heart fucking aches in my chest.

  And when I hear sobbing, I jerk my head to see who is crying. A bitter laugh escapes me when I realize it’s me.

  “I’m so sorry,” I tell her. “It should have been me.”

  The wind picks up and my head begins to throb. The headaches just won’t fucking quit. Some days I wonder if I’ll die from the explosions in my head that attack without warning now. My doctor claims they’ll go away after some time. When my brain has returned to its normal capacity.

  “God,” I cry out into the quiet, warm sky. “Just give me yesterday. Please. Let me go back in time. I won’t go to see Ashley that day. I’ll go to my boring Economics class instead of choosing to skip to see my fiancée.”

  Fiancée.

  The word on my tongue has a terrible taste.

  No fiancée.

  Ashley is gone.

  And she’s gone too.

  Mom was right.

  Unfuckingfair!

  A howl of bitter sadness wracks through me. I took it all away from her. One normal goddamned day turned out to be the worst day of my existence. My brain has trouble wrapping my head around it all. The doctors tell me it’s okay to feel this way.

  It’s not fucking okay.