The Ballerina & The Devil

Eight. Turn Up

I cleared my throat and smiled. "Oh hey, Aidan," I giggled slightly. "It's funny seeing you here."

I slapped my hands together and nodded in approval. Perfect.

I started towards the door again but was no sooner stopped by an arm wrapping around my waist.

"Hey," I slapped the stranger's hand away and spun around. "Do not-," I stopped short, the words getting lodged in the back of my throat. I felt the blood drain from my face and my heart skipped a beat before dropping to the pit of my stomach as I stared into a pair of intense blue eyes.

Chase Adams.

I hadn't seen him since we broke up three months, five days, four hours, five minutes and twenty two and a half seconds ago.

I kid, I kid.

I didn't know the exact seconds and minutes.

Anyway, there he was. Towering over me at six foot, in all his glory.

Chase was dressed in a pair of jeans and a collared black tee. His golden hair was styled back with what appeared to be gel, and his eyes sparkled with their usual mischief.

I couldn't help feeling nostalgic as I stared into those eyes of his because before everything went down, that happened to be my favorite thing about him. How mischievous and carefree he was. Chase was generally a fun guy to be around.

You know, until he crushed your heart and soul mercilessly.

I took a step back and glared at him with what I hoped was hostility.

"What the hell do you think you're doing touching me?" I hissed.

"I didn't know it was a crime to touch my girl," Chase scoffed.

"I am not your girl," I folded my arms across my chest and stuck my chin out. "I never was, and I never will be."

"Well, now that's not true," he smiled dazzlingly at me that knocked the breath right out of me, which only made me angrier because hello? Who the hell did he think he was to make mean breathless.

"Well, I'll just be going now," I said, turning away.

I knew that if I spent too long in a room with Chase all reason and sense would eventually leave me, and I'd end up doing something extraordinarily stupid.

Like making out with him.

Or getting back together with him.

Chase grabbed my hand and turned me back around. "Wait a minute," he said insistently.

I pulled my hand out of his hold and glared at him. "Don't touch me."

"Come on D-money," he said, calling me by that stupid, yet loved nickname that still tugged at my heartstrings.

Chase had given me the name when we first started talking. He had told me it was appropriate for me because I should be considered "just as valued as money is to men."

Stupid, slick asshole with his smooth words that clearly didn't mean shit to him because if it did he wouldn't have rolled around in bed with someone else while he was with me. Funnily enough, that didn't make me feel very "valued".

"You can't be serious right now," he continued.

"Oh, but I am. What, did you think I would cool off after my time away from you, and then run back into your arms the moment I finally laid eyes on you?" I asked, eyebrows raised.

Chase paused and then nodded. "Yes."

I scoffed. "You are such a jackass. Excuse me, I have places to be and people to see."