Caught in a Chase

58 - Bitch Please

Porter walked into the kitchen and stole a potato chip from my plate. I whacked his hand with my fork.

"Get ya own food motherfucker."

"I was about to ask why we don't see you more often Denaun," Chelsea said. "But never mind."

He laughed as she handed him the bag of chips. I slid the sample beat he was there to pick up across the island.

"So you guys going to the barbecue at Bobby's on Saturday?" Denaun asked.

"No," I said quickly, trying to catch his eye.

"What barbecue?" Chelsea asked.

"An old friend's having people over. Got an enormous grill, nice backyard, no alcohol."

"We're busy. Sorry," I said.

Chelsea looked confused. "We don't have plans on Saturday. It sounds like fun."

"Great. See you there," Denaun said, giving Chelsea a quick hug. "Gotta run."

"I'll walk you out," I said, getting up.

As soon as we were out of earshot, I turned on him.

"What the fuck are you doing?" I hissed. "Chelsea can't go to Bobby's!"

"Why?" he asked, confused.

"What if Ivy's there?"

"The redhead you ... oh. Shit."

"Yeah. Since this is your fault, you better make sure Bobby doesn't invite her," I ordered, jabbing my finger at him.

"Okay. I'll take care of it," Denaun promised.

Chelsea and I had been back together for a month and things were going well. The last thing I wanted was to throw Ivy in her face. Fucking Porter and his big mouth.

Over the next couple days, I reassured myself everything would be fine. Bobby promised Ivy wouldn't be invited so there was no point telling Chelsea and upsetting her.

We arrived at Bobby's on Saturday afternoon. I scanned the other guests while introducing Chelsea to people I knew. She chatted with a couple as I stayed by her side, watching for any sign of Ivy. Was the bitch crazy enough to crash the party?

"What's up with you?" Chelsea said.

"What do you mean?" I asked, putting my hand on the small of her back.

"You don't normally stay glued to me. I'm fine, go visit with your friends," she said, waving me away.

I backed off a little but remained nearby.

When Chelsea headed to the kitchen, I trailed behind. She looked around the counter, then turned back to the fridge, bumping into me.

"Whatcha looking for?" Bobby called.

"Any more root beer?" she asked.

"Yup, in the garage fridge."

"Thanks! I'll get it," Chelsea said and grabbed my hand. "You're coming too."

We walked outside to the detached garage and though the side door.

"Need some alone time baby?" I asked once we were inside, pulling her against me and nuzzling her neck. Chelsea shoved me back.

"What's going on?"

"What?"

"You've been on edge and hovering since we got here," Chelsea said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "If you're worried about me being in a crowd of people for the first time since ... I'm alright. You can relax."