Chase glanced up from his phone, looking delicious. His hair was messy, his eyes glinting healthily. He seemed to have gained back whatever weight he’d lost last night. The color was back in his face.
“You said you’d keep me in the loop.” His voice cracked, undoubtedly to his dismay.
I strolled into the room, taking a seat on the edge of the bed next to him. “Provided there was news,” I agreed. “I kept my promise.”
“Is Dad conscious?”
“Getting there. He’s stable, though.”
“What did Grant say?”
“He said Ronan will most likely pull through.”
“Fuck. Okay. No news, then.”
I swiveled my head, giving him a Really? glare. He grabbed one of my hands and put it in his lap. Another current ran through me. Like the Cyclone when it dropped.
“I’m buying you breakfast.”
“Thanks, I’m not hungry.” I didn’t want more one-on-one time with him. Knew I was now tipping over. Taking that Cyclone dip, after which I wouldn’t be able to turn my back on him again. I couldn’t fall in love with a man who promised to never give me everything I wanted from life: A husband, a wedding. Children. Love.
“Food is rarely about food,” he said. “It’s about comfort. It’s about sex. It’s about revenge and lust and anger. But food is never about food.”
I smiled tiredly at his observation. We heard a shriek coming from Ronan’s room. Both our gazes flew in unison to the direction of Katie’s roar. Katie wasn’t one to make a scene. Chase jumped from the bed and bolted through the door. I followed him. Katie, Amber, and Julian were standing in the hallway. Katie was panting heavily, her chest rising and falling. Her cheek was marred with red clawing marks, like she was so frustrated she’d tried to rip at her own flesh.
“You have some nerve! I can’t believe you, Julian. That’s a step too far, even for you.”
“I just did what everyone else around here was too chicken to do.” Julian sounded desperate, clutching Amber’s hand a little too tightly. Amber shook his touch off the minute she saw Chase and me. Her face fell when she looked between us. I realized we were holding hands. I hadn’t even been aware we were doing that.
“What’s going on?” Chase let go of my hand, placing himself as a buffer between Julian and Katie. Katie leaned forward and snagged a cluster of documents Julian had been holding, waving it in Chase’s face.
“Bastard brought a legally binding contract for Dad to sign, which puts him as an emergency CEO of Black & Co. He tried to slip into the room while Mom was away picking up stuff for Dad. I was outside making phone calls.”
“Now, before you get your panties in a twist—” Julian was in the process of swiveling toward Chase. Bad idea. Chase sent a sucker punch straight to his face. Julian staggered back, crashing against the wall. He held his nose with both hands, gasping for breath. “Asshole!”
Chase snatched the papers from Katie’s hands and ripped them to shreds. They rained at his feet, gathering around his loafers like snowflakes. Amber stared at him, wide eyed, her eyes rimmed with careful makeup and tears.
Julian dragged his back down the wall, still holding his nose. Blood trickled between his fingers, down to his shirt and the floor. “Feeling threatened, coz?” he hissed.
It was the first time I’d heard Julian referring to Chase as a cousin and not a brother, and I had a feeling it had been a long time coming. When I stared at Julian, such a perfect, one-dimensional Shakespearean villain in my eyes, I had to remind myself he had a life story too. That it was probably difficult to live in the shadow of your cousin, who was a decade younger, successful, gorgeous, and born into American royalty.
That Chase was seen as more talented, more capable, and more authoritative. And perhaps worst of all, that at least from the outside, Chase was unfazed by the fact Julian had stolen his fiancée.
Chase strolled toward him, smiling coldly. “Try to tamper with Black & Co.’s management one more time, Julian. I fucking dare you. And you”—he turned to Amber, who stepped back, clutching her diamond necklace with her three-inch nails—“keep him away from me if you don’t want to become a widow.”
With that, he took my hand and stormed down the hallway. I flailed behind him, trying to catch up with his steps.
“Where are we going?”
“My apartment.”
“Your apart . . . Chase, no.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
He stopped and turned around to me sharply. “Because,” he gritted through his teeth.
“Because?” I raised an eyebrow.
“I can’t sleep.” He spat the words out, annoyed.
“And?”
“And I can when you are there.” The rest of the words rolled out of his mouth grudgingly. “I don’t know how to explain it, nor do I want to. May I be graced with your presence so I can stock up on some sleeping hours?”