CHP 4

Carmen's POV 

“Hey," I yelled, tossing my toothbrush into the sink.

“You don't tell me what to do." Chase retorted, a crashing sound following his words. “I have made myself clear…” 

"We never reached that agreement,” I countered.

Taking a deep breath, I shoved my hand into my wet hair. “It's your practice game, you can't miss it." 

“Get off my phone." He hung up. 

I was simmering with rage but it was not enough for me to toss my phone carelessly, instead, I set it down on the sink carefully. 

“What's happening?" Millie asked, poking her head into the bathroom but I didn't answer her.

“Are you… are you fighting with your boss?”

"Get off my face.” I huffed, shoving her aside after picking up my hand drier. 

At eight am, I reported to work, praying and hoping that Chase would get his stubborn ass off his bed and come around. 

I was going to ask the receptionist if he was in but something felt off. 

Jaime, the receptionist, was smiling at me which was unusual. She always kept a stiff face each time I came around like we had a duel in our past lives. 

Eyeing her suspiciously as I signed in, I gawked at her, “What?”

“Nothing.” Her grin widened that instant like she had just told herself the punchline to a joke.

That should’ve been my first clue.

The second clue was the faint sound of a party horn coming from the direction of the players lounge.

“What the hell is going on?" When Jaime wouldn't answer, I followed the noise and the moment I walked in, the room erupted in cheers.

“One month!” Voices cheered as balloons popped near the ceiling. 

There was a banner made from taped together printed paper that read: CONGRATS, YOU SURVIVED! 

Someone with guts had drawn a cartoon of Chase with fangs and a crown made of icicles.

Half the hockey team was leaning against the counter.

They all had coffee cups in hand and were wearing the same smug grins I usually associated with Millie whenever she had set me up for something.

“What… is happening?” I asked, slowly scanning the room.

“You lasted a fucking month with Chase Maddox, you just made a history." Liam, the team's quarterback, chirped. 

“You’re getting a party, no, a sanity check.” He corrected himself. "Are you okay, your mental health when was the last time you checked it?” Stefan chuckled. 

Before I could retort, Chase’s voice came from behind me. “What the hell are you guys up to?” He sounded as cold as ever.

That instant, the guys parted like the Red Sea, revealing him standing in the doorway with his gym bag slung over his shoulder. 

His gaze landed on me, then on the banner before placing them back on me with one brow arched.

“Congratulations,” he said dryly. “You’ve officially lasted longer than my previous managers."

“Should I be proud or worried?” I shot back.

He smirked, the dangerous kind that looked like it could either melt ice or start a fight. 

Someone shoved a cupcake into my hand. “Make a speech!” another yelled from the back.

Grinning, I raised the cupcake like a trophy. “I would like to thank my unmatched stubbornness, caffeine, and my ability to ignore passive aggressive text messages at 2 a.m.” I huffed, forgetting to add the back and forth we engaged in just this morning. 

“Enjoy it while it lasts,” he said, closing the gap between us.

Titling my head, I mouthed, “Are you warning me or daring me?”

He didn’t answer, but the flicker in his mismatched eyes was the reply I needed.

Later that evening I was lying in bed, finally trying to coax myself into sleep after the longest day of my life, but it was impossible. 

Millie was in the next room, buzzing around like she was preparing for a red carpet event instead of a simple date.

“Millie! Can you keep it down? I’m trying to sleep here!” I yelled, pulling the pillow over my head.

“Oh, come on, Carmen!” She yelled back. It was supposed to end there but she decided to come to my room. 

Poking her head through the door, she snorted, "It’s just a little hair spray.”

"You're taking too much time to get ready for your date. He might end up leaving you there.” I groaned. 

“Max won't do that to me." She mouthed. "And I can't meet him looking like a mannequin.” She added, whistling to herself.

The moment she bangs the door of her room shut, the noise resumes. 

It was going to be a long night.

Just as I was about to roll over again, my phone vibrated against the bedside table, making me sit upright. 

The screen flashed with an unfamiliar number and for the next few minutes, I was contemplating on if I should receive the call or not. 

After what seemed like forever, I swiped to receive it. 

“Hello?”

“Carmen, it’s Terry,” I could still recall his voice so I didn't argue about his identity. 

“Hey, hi." I muttered, wondering why he reached out to me. 

“Chase is sick.” He didn't give me enough time to process his words before he continued.

"He hasn’t been answering my calls or texts. He had refused to come to the hospital either for his checkup.”

Frowning, I rubbed my temples. “Terry, it’s late. I had a long day at work, isn't there someone else?” I groaned. 

“No one can access him. You're the only person he keeps close, you have to help him else he will relapse.” 

Left with no choice, I threw my feet off my bed, “Alright, send me the address.”

The next minute, my phone screen lit up with his address. Biting my pillow, I groaned in frustration. 

“What is it?" Millie announced her presence. 

The moment I raised my head, she swirled around, grinning broadly. “How do I look?" 

“I don't know." I snapped, throwing my hoodie over my head. “I don't think I will be back tonight, I have to babysit my boss."

Millie's eyes lit up that instant but before she could start running her mouth, I sent her a warning glare.

***

Chase’s house looked like it had been pulled straight from an architecture magazine. It was sleek, minimalist, and screamed expensive to make me question my life choices.

Rubbing my cold palms together, I took a deep breath before ringing the doorbell. 

I was going to ring the bell again after waiting for a few minutes but the door creaked open and Chase poked his head out. 

“Terry sent you?" He was barely audible and for some reason, my heartbeat increased. 

“You need to see your doctor," I said, trying to act indifferent. 

“Go away." He was going to slam the door shut on my face but I was swift, placing my feet as a wedge. 

Seeing I had gained the upper hand, he stepped back. “Suite yourself." He muttered.

The sleek interior of his apartment left me darting my eyes around. Every surface gleamed under the chandelier light and every piece of furniture was meticulously chosen for style and comfort. 

He missed a step but before he could crash, I caught his arm mid air, steadying him until he got his balance. 

“I don’t need your help,” he grunted, pushing my hands away with a surprising strength.

“You think I came here on my own accord?" I huffed. “Terry was on a mission to make me have a sleepless night, otherwise, I wouldn't be here." 

“Then go away." 

Ignoring him, I emptied the content of the paper bag. 

Mustering all my strength, I grabbed his arm and made him sit upright, this time, he didn't struggle. 

I handed him the medications Terry had asked me to pick from the pharmaceutical store with a glass of water. 

He swallowed it without complaint but didn’t say thank you.

“You should be grateful even if you don't mean it." I showed, rolling my eyes at him.

“Just go away." He repeated, nodding at the door.

I was going to spend the whole night playing nurse so I decided to get extra cushions that were behind his back.

In my haste to get away from him, I lost my footing and the next thing that happened, I was lying on Chase's hard chest. 

My heart slammed against my ribs like it wanted to escape.

“Careful,” he murmured, his breath hot against my cheek.

I held my breath, my eyes wide and locked with his. The usual coldness in them was gone and were now replaced with warmth.

His eyes flicked down, landing on my lips and then, without warning, he leaned in, locking lips with me.