Love at Last Sight

Chapter Eleven

            “I’m sorry, Chace,” I apologized quickly, ducking my head. “I’m really sorry. Let me explain myself. I have to come clean—”

            “Hold up,” he interjected. “Wait. Don’t apologize to me, Rosie.”

            I glanced up at him. “Why not?”

            He offered me a small smile. “Because I did lie to you. You’ll have to let me explain myself. Please hear me out.”

            “Of course!” I agreed easily, reaching out and grabbing his shoulders. “I’ll definitely hear you out!”

            Chuckling, he gently pushed me away. “Um, if you don’t mind, I’d like to get out and get dressed…”

            Now blushing, I nodded quickly, scrambling to my feet. “I’ll just, uh, wait, um…”

            “Go wait in my room,” he suggested, shooing me with his hands. “Last door on the left on the other side of the hallway.”

            “Okay,” I responded, escaping the over heated bathroom. Somehow I couldn’t manage to shake the image of Chace’s bare torso from my mind. It was like it was burned here. “I’m such a pervert…”

            The normalcy of Chace’s room surprised me. I’d expected to see a gigantic flat screen on the wall and maybe surround sound and a few couches. Instead, I found a regular box television and a simple king-sized bed. There were no couches, or any extra furniture of any type. A dresser stood in the corner of the room, and an x-box 360 was perched on the T.V stand— and the game system was definitely the most expensive thing in the room. It seemed Chace was very down to earth.

            Not sure where to place myself, I flopped down on his bed, running a hand through my hair. A breathy chuckle left my lips. How had I came to the conclusion of Chace killing himself when he was just taking a breath? Noah’s words were affecting me way too much. It wasn’t fair to Chace. I didn’t want to think like that either. Somehow I had to find a way to stop myself from thinking like that.

             A few moments later, Chace, now with a pair of pajama pants on, trudged into the room, his towel resting across his bare shoulders. Sighing, he took a seat next to me on the bed. “So, I guess I have a lot of explaining to do.”

            “Yeah,” I agreed quietly, pulling my knees up to my chest. My gaze was trained on a Rise Against poster on the wall, but it was flickering towards Chace’s exposed torso. I silently wished he’d put on a shirt.

            “Well, I guess to start off with things, I should tell you my mom doesn’t live in California… in fact, she doesn’t live at all anymore. She died about two years ago to leukemia. Sorry, I shouldn’t have lied about that, Rosie.”

            I shook my head. “No, it’s okay. I understand.”

            “So why won’t you look at me?”

            Slowly, my eyes travelled to his piercing brown orbs. “It’s not you.”

            “What is it then?” he asked, frowning.

            “Um, your…” Embarrassed, I lowered my gaze.

            To his chest, of course.

            “Oh,” he said in realization. “Oh-ho. You want me to put on a shirt, don’t you? You little perv…”

            “Oh, shut up!” I snapped, feeling my cheeks warm. “If it was anyone but you it wouldn’t matter—”