A firm believer in "Exes can be friends," Chassie Lewis has proven everyone thinking otherwise wrong. For almost four years now, she's been happily divorced from her ex-husband, Nathaniel Forester. The sparks had flown and crashed between them a lon...
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Chassie George
Alarm blares off in my head as I stare at the car that's definitely not Kathie's easing toward me. My mind couldn't decipher what to make of the car. A betrayal that my sister called Nathan or frustration that Nathan insisted he comes instead. Or just a teeny tiny bit of exasperation not directly at Nathan, but his tendencies to volunteer on any crisis.
In Kathie's defense, she must have called Nathan prior to answering mine with reasons Ethan-related and he was simply available. I plastered a smile when he comes into view. It may have faltered a bit when he climbs out of the car wearing sweatpants and a shirt which in Nathan's wardrobe is PJs. Add in the just rolled-out-of-bed mess of a hair, and the guilt-train just goes screeching down the railroad.
Not that I didn't want to see him in his current state where he's rocking a bedroom look – I just feel bad that I inconvenienced him in some way.
Then and now.
"Hi." I hid the injured knuckle when his eyes did a quick perusal. I rushed to the other side of the car and helped myself in without meeting his gaze.
Nathan climbs back in. "What happened?"
I answered with a shake of the head. "Everything's fine."
"Chassie."
Nathan is not the 'I told you so' type. I just don't want him to think he was right.
"I just needed a ride home." I busied my eyes on the bustling street. At half past nine, nightclubs get longer lines of party people even on school nights or weekdays.
"Chassie, please." It sounded like a demand and a plea at the same time.
I sucked in a breath and turn to meet his face.
"What happened?" This time, he pinned me in his gaze – in a way I wouldn't have the heart to straight out lie.
"I, uh," I stammered, "I kind of punch Adam Roswell."
"Adam Roswell? Why would you go on a date with that jerk?" The name slipped roughly through his gritted teeth.
I shrug to make things light. "I was trying to figure out if he's changed."
"What happened exactly? Did he hurt you?" His eyes frantically roamed all over me in search for bruises.
"Can you start driving now?" I hid my injured knuckle as if it will hide the shame gnawing at me.
He heaved a disgruntled sigh, but complies anyway. "Tell me what happened exactly."
"You know me. I just acted on a stupid rage." I trained my eyes on the busy streets. Anywhere but him.
He made a guttural sound then the car pulled up on the side of the road. "For the love of God, Chassie George, you're killing me. Tell me or I'll beat the truth out of that bastard."
