Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 109038 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109038 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
“Doesn’t sound like a bad day.”
Something else swirls around in my mind and I wonder if I should say it to him at all.
“Something weird happened, too.”
He pauses for a moment, seeming to sense my hesitation. “Weird good, or…”
“Weird bad. Uh, there was a YouTube video of me shared around the internet a couple of days ago where I said some things that upset people. Only a small portion of them were upset, but this person outside was one of them.”
Chase hums. “I can’t imagine you saying a single thing that would ever upset someone.”
“I talked about how fame has been difficult for me to adjust to, and I said that sometimes it can feel like a golden cage. Most people understood what I meant, but some people said I’m an ungrateful asshole for it.”
“Fuck them. One of them was outside today?”
“A woman flipped me off and said if you’re not grateful for your fans, you’ll stop having them soon enough.”
“Jesus.”
“I tried to tell her that I’m deeply grateful for my fans, and that’s not what I was saying in the video, of course, but… sometimes people just decide they don’t like me. I have to get used to the fact that I can’t do anything about that.”
My chest tightens.
“Awful,” Chase murmurs.
“Things can get so misconstrued. I know I could convince that woman that I’m a grateful person if I could just talk to her, one-on-one, but I can’t do that with everyone. It’s just… it’s… sorry. I am really bad at talking about this stuff. I’m not used to attention at all, let alone negative attention.”
“It’s okay. I understand. I’ve had negative attention my whole life.”
I frown. “You? How could anyone ever be negative toward you?”
His hand squeezes my thigh. “Trust me, they’ve found a way.”
I take in a slow breath, trying to pull my thoughts away from the outside world and back to Chase completely.
“What have you gotten negative attention for?”
He exhales, shifting on the couch to look up at me. “Have you ever heard of Oppositional Defiant Disorder?”
I shake my head. “I don’t think so.”
“It was one of the first things I got diagnosed with. Well, after ADHD, I guess, which everyone saw in me since I was super young. But I’d never heard of Oppositional Defiant Disorder until my freshman year of high school.”
“Did you get in a lot of fights?”
“Yes. Well, I never started them. But I was in them.”
“I see.”
“But one time I told a teacher I wasn’t going to apologize to another student when I hit him. He said something I couldn’t forgive. I still don’t regret hitting him.”
I frown. “What did he say?”
“Called my mom a slut, just for going on dates after her divorce.”
“Holy shit.”
“I didn’t hit him hard for it. I still shouldn’t have done it, but that doesn’t mean I regretted it, either. They suspended me and gave me mandatory therapy.”
“You must have hated that.”
He pulls in a long breath. “I liked the therapy, honestly. Wasn’t sure I agreed with the ODD diagnosis. The only people I was ever oppositional to were school bullies, bad teachers, and my dad. But I definitely knew the clinical depression diagnosis was real. She also made me feel less fucking weird about my touch stuff.”
“Is that the clinical term? ‘Touch stuff?’”
Chase reaches over and pinches my hip. “She called it touch hyperfixation, but I don’t know if that’s a real thing.”
I want to ask him more about what happened between him and his father, or who the hell bullied him in school. But the look in his eyes when he talks about it makes me think I shouldn’t.
“Well, your touch stuff feels good.”
He pushes his hand a little beneath the hem of my shirt. “Thank you. I don’t know if it’s a sensory thing from my ADHD or what. But I do sometimes feel like I can’t survive without it.”
He keeps trailing his fingers over my skin. A few minutes later, he reaches for the remote and navigates to a documentary on his own, despite the fact that I would have been just as happy to stay in the silence with him, or keep talking to him all night.
I hadn’t realized how afraid of my new life I was until I met someone who knew nothing about me.
Chase is here because he wants to be, not because he’s chasing clout or fame or just wants a piece of me.
His fingers roam on my skin and it feels so good I barely pay attention to the movie.
He touches my stomach first, then he shifts his whole body so that his leg is draped over mine even further. It’s so much more contact than I’m used to having.
I can’t help but respond when his hand slides down, moving just below my waistband, gently rubbing the top of my thigh through my pants.