Trust (9 page)

I stare at the phone in
my hand as a million different thoughts roll through my head.  Denise is a
bitch, so it could mean anything.  It doesn't mean that Chase is on board with
what she's asking.  And yet, the way it's written, it almost sounds as if they
were having a conversation about it.  Like it was something they had been
discussing and she was just waiting for a final answer.  Of course, it could be
written that way on the off chance that I pick the message up, or see his
phone, just to piss me off and cause a fight.  That definitely seems like
something Denise was capable of, but I doubt it.  She would have no reason to
think I would have seen that particular message.  Although maybe there were
others all worded similarly.  I know it's an invasion of privacy, but I have to
know more.  If they are having a conversation about me, if he's still having
any kind of physical relationship with her, I deserve to know.

I click to turn his phone
on but I'm prompted for a password.  The only message unblocked is the current
one. 

Damn
.

Taking a deep breath to
steady my pounding heart, I force away the negative thoughts.  I don't know
anything.  I shouldn't have looked at the message in the first place.  I have
to trust that Chase will tell me if Denise is up to any funny business.  Then
again, I've only known Chase for less than a week and who knows how long she's
known him.  Can I really trust him at all?  He's a poker player.  He makes his
money bluffing, which is really just another word for lying.  He makes money by
keeping his emotions in check and his thoughts to himself.  Can you ever really
know someone like that?  I suddenly miss Evelyn.  My best friend always had my
back, and I feel shitty again for ignoring her all week.

"You ready?" 
Chase's voice startles me and I jump.  "Shit, sorry.  You okay?"

"Yeah," I nod
and then work up a smile.  "Just thinking about a friend back home." 
Technically true.

Chase nods, putting his
hand on me so that he can rub empathetic circles on my back.  It makes me feel
instantly better.  Harrison would have probably made some joke about me missing
my friends but Chase can instantly tell that I just need a bit of reassurance
and compassion.  I must be misreading the whole thing with Denise.  He'll tell
me about it in his own time if it's anything.

We leave the photo shoot
and hop into his waiting limo on our way to his house.  He's sitting across
from me on the bench seats as usual.

"Sorry about those
girls."  He shoots his half smile at me as he reaches forward to squeeze
my knee.  "Sometimes fans can get a little personal.  They feel like they
know you so well after seeing you on TV that they forget you don't know them at
all."

I shrug.  I'm over it. 
I'm more disturbed by the message from Denise than a couple of fan girls.  I
reach into my purse and pull out his wallet and phone, handing them back to
him.  I watch as he turns the phone on and flips through it briefly, presumably
checking his messages. 

"My bike is
ready."

"What?"  I'm
not sure what he's talking about.

He looks up at me. 
"My motorcycle.  It's been in the shop all week.  You ever been on
one?"

I shake my head.

"Really?  Never? 
Well then that's what we'll do tomorrow."

"I don't know,"
I protest.  "Motorcycles seem pretty dangerous."

"Oh, Lila.  You
gotta live a little, babe!  There's nothing like riding really fast in the
desert, the wind wiping against your body and the scenery going by you in a
blur.  It gets your heart pumping, the blood in your veins will feel
alive."

"I thought that's
what sex is for," I smile and wink.

Chase laughs.  "I'm
not going to argue with that.  But if I can't keep you naked and sequestered in
my room 24 hours a day, then there are other ways to feel exhilarated."

"I guess."

"You'll love it, I
promise.  You have to live a little, Lila.  You don't always have to be so
safe!"

"I'm not.  I
do!" I protest, but he has me pegged.  I've always lived too safely,
afraid to take chances.  In fairness, I think it's probably easier to live a
little closer to the edge when you're rich than when you're struggling to make
rent each month.  It's not like I have friends with motorcycles or the money to
go diving with sharks in Australia or anything.

"We'll see," he
says.  "Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow," I
agree.  I'm not exactly looking forward to it, but at least if he's making
plans with me for tomorrow then he isn't planning on ditching me for Denise. 
I'm feeling better about that situation already.

We arrive at the house
and he lets us in after telling his driver to go for lunch but to bring us
something on his way back.  We'll have a later lunch so that we can get in the
pool right away.

I haven't been out in his
backyard yet, and it's gorgeous.  I note how well manicured the lawn is,
considering he's never here to take care of it.

"I have a service
for that."  Of course. 

The fence around the
property is high enough that he doesn't have to worry about any of his
neighbors watching us, giving us the privacy that we lack whenever we go to the
pool at the hotel.  Or whenever we leave the house at all, really.  I've never
understood the complaint about celebrities being bothered by people until I
started seeing Chase, and he isn't even known outside the poker or gambling
world.  I can't imagine what it would be like for a movie star.

I follow him to the side
of the yard where there is a little small hut with a couple of doors used as a
changing area.  He goes into one side after motioning me to go into the other. 
Once inside I pull my bathing suit out of the bag I brought and strip off my
clothes.  As I'm about to put it on, a naughty thought creeps into my head. 
Instead, I drop it onto the floor and wait until I hear Chase exit the other
room.  I step out completely naked and watch as his jaw drops, and he lowers
his shades to let his eyes roam over his body.  He's wearing a shorts style
swimsuit himself but lets out a low whistle as he sees me.

"I think you forgot
something," he smiles.

"Well, you said I
don't know how to live dangerously..."

Chase laughs.  "This
is your idea of living on the edge, then?"

I put my hands over my
breasts and pretend to turn back to the changing room.  "If you don't like
it, I can go put my suit on."

"Definitely
not!"  He grabs my arm and pulls me to him.  "I have no complaints
about what you're... not wearing."

"You're over dressed
for this party, though."  I hook my fingers into the waistband of his trunks
and yank them down to his feet.

"Hey," he
exclaims as I straighten up and kiss him quickly on the lips.

"Shut up," I
reply.  I put my hands on his chest and push him backwards.  The surprised look
on his face as he hits the water is priceless.

His head breaks the
surface and he glares at me in mock anger.  "So that's how it's going to
be, is it?"

I laugh and nod right
before jumping in next to him.  When I come up he kisses me on the lips and
puts his arms around me.

"So you're not
mad?" I ask right before kissing him again.

"Of course
not."  He kisses me back.  "I like seeing your version of living
dangerously.  But tomorrow, you're going to see mine."  I open my mouth to
ask for details but he catches my lips and tongue with his own, and all sense
of speech deserts me.  Whatever retaliation he comes up with tomorrow will
surely be worth this.

"Just give me a few
minutes to settle up and we'll get out of here," Chase says, squeezing my
hand and then leaving me in the motorcycle showroom as he follows the owner
into the office to pay for his bike repairs.  He still hasn't told me where
he's taking me later, and I have to admit to feeling a bit nervous. 
Yesterday's skinny dipping session really was one of the most risky things I've
ever done, and I was actually relieved that he didn't try to have sex with me
in the pool.  I was embarrassed enough.  But after our swim we barely made it
into the kitchen before Chase took me right there on the floor.  Clearly the
idea of doing risky things was a turn on for him.  Honestly, I was pretty hot
as well.  The only annoying part was how quickly we had to get going again. 

Chase had another quick
meeting back at the hotel with his agent, forcing us to eat our lunch in the
car on the way back.  He led a very active and busy life, and I wasn't quite
used to it yet.  Harry and I were more likely to sit around in our pajama pants
and watch TV than to be constantly on the go.  I don't miss doing that as much
as we did, but I wouldn't mind if Chase would stop for at least one day and
spend some time at his place just chilling.

As if summoned by my
thoughts, my phone began to ring and the caller ID said it was Harry calling
from Toronto.  I hadn't heard from him in a few days, my anger dissipating
enough that I felt I was ready to talk to him.  Briefly.

"Hi Harry," I
answered.

"Lila.  Hi.  Thanks
for answering."  There's a silence on the phone.  I don't really know what
to say.  "So, uh, how ya doing?"

"I'm okay.  Look,
Harry..."

"I know, I know.  I
was a dick.  I know.  I guess I just... I wanted to apologize.  Sometimes I
just get carried away in the moment..."

"You hurt me,
Harry.  You offered me up as a prize in a poker game."  I thought I was
mostly over it, but being with Chase so soon after it happened likely just
distracted me from the pain.  The pain of feeling like I was worth so little to
Harry, but also the pain of losing our relationship even though I knew it was
over even before we got to Vegas.

"I know.  I'm
sorry.  Can we get past this?"

I walk towards one of the
bikes on the showroom, running my hand idly along the leather seat and up to
the chrome handlebars as I talk.  "Not in the way we were.  We're done,
you understand that don't you Harry?  It's not just about the poker game.  It wasn't
working before that."

"I know."  I
hear a sadness in his voice, a resignedness to the way things are now that I
didn't hear last time we spoke.  "I'm just hoping me can still be
friends."

"In time.  We can
talk about it more when I get back."

"Do you know when
that will be?  What are you doing out there anyway?"  That second question
isn't one I want to answer, so I focus on the first.

"I'm not sure.  But
when I'm back I'll give you a call, okay?  We can talk about things
then."  By then maybe I'll be ready to talk about Chase.  By then I might
understand myself where this is going.

"Okay.  I'm really
sorry, Lila.  I'll always care about you, you know that, right?"

"I do," I say. 
My anger toward him is gone, and so is the love I thought I once felt.  But I
don't wish him any harm.  He'll always be a part of my past even if he isn't
part of my future.  "I feel the same way, Harry.  But I gotta go now,
okay?  We'll talk soon."

I hang up, happier that I
took the call than I thought I'd be.  It was good to get a bit of closure with
him.  I feel like he gets that it's over now, and he accepts it.

"Ready to go?"

My head snaps around to
see Chase standing in the door to the office.  I'm not sure how much of that
conversation he heard, if any.  His face gives nothing away, as usual. 

I'm hunched forward with
my arms locked around Chase's stomach as the motorcycle thunders down a desert
road.  I have no idea how fast we're going, but I'm absolutely certain it's
faster than the speed limit.  It's also faster than I'm sure I've ever gone on
land.  I'm terrified, but at the same time exhilarated.  My blood is pumping
quickly, pushed through my veins by a pounding heart, and I would need a
crowbar to loosen my grip.  But at the same time, it's exciting.  And the
vibrations of the bike coming up from between my legs is achingly distracting,
making my thoughts turn to Chase and whether or not our ride will end at a
place where I can fuck him silly.

We continue racing
through the desert, a cloud of sand forming behind us in our wake even though
we're technically following a road.  After a while we begin to pass a few signs
that whip past me before I even have a chance to read them, but they lead us to
a small little airport before Chase begins to finally slow.  As he pulls us to
a stop I'm finally able to focus on where we are.

I rip off my helmet. 
"Are you kidding me?  Skydiving?  You want to go skydiving?"

Chase pulls his helmet
off as well, a huge grin plastered across his face.  "You'll love
it."

He wears that grin all
through our training session, where our instructors go through all of the
things to know about jumping.  I'm terrified, but unwilling to give Chase the
satisfaction of chickening out.  There are six other people in our class, but
Chase seems to be the only one barely paying attention to the instructors,
spending more time looking at me and smiling.  I ignore him as best I can,
desperate to absorb every shred of information they provide so that I can stay
alive.  I'm not sure at all that I can do this, but it's a relief to hear that
first time divers don't go alone, instead jumping attached to an instructor who
is in charge of pulling the chute. 

Even after hearing that I
still focus on the lesson as if my life depends on it.  I'm pretty sure it
does.

"You're sexy when
you're concentrating," Chase whispers to me, leaning close enough to my
ear that I can feel his hot breath raise the hairs up along my neck.

"Shut up and pay
attention," I whisper back, not removing my eyes from the front of the class. 
I'm surprisingly disappointed when he listens to me and pulls his body back
away from mine, but it's for the best.  I don't need any distractions right
now.

When the instructors have
finally bombarded us with as much information as they can, they lead us to the
staging area where we get outfitted in jumpsuits and ridiculous looking
goggles. 

"How sexy do I look
now?" I say, turning to Chase with the bug eyed plastic glasses on my
face. 

He's holding his own
goggles, but he laughs and leans forward to kiss me hard on the lips.  "It
would be impossible for you to not look sexy."

I stick my tongue out at
him, still mad that he's dragged me here.  I consider pleading with him to just
put me back on his bike and ride us home, but I want to prove to him I have a
wild side.  Even if it's new.

The instructors begin to
pair off with students and I look around, waiting to see who was going to be
attached to me in what could end up being the final moments of my life.  No one
approaches, so I turn to Chase who doesn't have anyone yet either.  "Who
are we jumping with?" I ask with a raised eyebrow.

"Do you really think
I'd let someone else experience the thrill of this with you?  That I'd want
anyone else's body attached to yours while you free fall at 120 miles an
hour?"

Is Chase telling me that
this has all been a practical joke and we aren't going to jump after all?  I
feel something in my stomach, but I'm not sure if it's relief or
disappointment.  Maybe both.

"So we aren't
jumping?" I ask.

He laughs.  "Oh
we're jumping.  Together.  You and me," he reaches forward and twirls me
around, pulling my body against his so that my fabric covered ass slaps against
his hips.  "Locked together in free fall."