Chasing Redemption (Book 2 of Chasing Series)

Eighteen | confronting secrets

He's not next to me when I wake.

My hand reaches across the mattress to find empty sheets. I stretch my arms, groaning softly as the morning sun filters in through the blinds.

The bedroom door is wide open bringing in the smell of cooking. I sit up, my mouth already salivating from the aroma.

Last nights awkward conversation washes over me and I almost don't want to get out of bed before Xavier appears in the doorway.

"Breakfast is ready," he says, forcing a small smile before disappearing done the hall.

Once I make it into the kitchen, I'm greeted with a plate of scrabbled eggs and bacon. A cup of orange juice accompanies it.

"Thanks for this," I say. "Looks good."

He shrugs. "Didn't have anything better to do."

"Thought you might have gone home before I woke up to be honest."

"I wouldn't do that without saying goodbye first," he says firmly.

I take a sip from the orange juice, needing to busy myself with something. He really isn't making this easy.

"So should we talk about last night?" I say quietly.

"Not much to say," he replies, putting food on his own plate. "I know how you feel."

"Yeah, but—"

"It's alright, Rhea. Let's just drop it."

"Fine. For now, anyway."

He sighs, shaking his head as he pours his own glass of orange juice. "I'm gonna do a few thing around the house before I leave. Won't be gone for a few hours if that's alright with you."

"If that's alright with— my god. You think I want to be alone out here?"

"After last night—"

"You didn't scare me away because you admitted how you felt. This whole situation is...complicated. I'm not—I'm confused."

"About what?" He says quietly, watching me closely.

"About—about everything."

I couldn't deny that there had been strange moments with him. Moments when I felt his touch more than before. Moments when I'd catch myself staring at him longer than usual.

"About me?"

"Maybe we shouldn't talk about this right now," I say quickly. "I actually have something else to ask you. Something important."

"Great way to change the subject."

"I'm not changing the subject."

"Yes, you are," he retorts.

"No, I'm—whatever. I'm not having this argument."

"Fine. Ask whatever it is you need to then."

I clear my throat, watching his expression closely. I'd been wanting to do this for weeks, but I had never found the right time.

"Does the name Thomas Lancaster sound familiar to you?" I whisper.

The silence stretches on as I wait for an answer. He blinks a few times, clenching the counter as he leans his arms into it.