Playing Chase (Against The Wall) Read online

  Playing Chase

  an Against The Wall novella

  By Julie Prestsater

  Published by Julie Prestsater, 2013

  Table of Contents

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  Prologue

  Chapter One – Chase

  Chapter Two – Chase

  Chapter Three – Summer

  Chapter Four – Chase

  Chapter Five – Chase

  Chapter Six – Shelly

  Chapter Seven – Chase

  Chapter Eight – Chase

  Chapter Nine – Melissa

  Chapter Ten – Chase

  Chapter Eleven – Chase

  Chapter Twelve – Chase

  Chapter Thirteen – Summer

  Chapter Fourteen – Chase

  Chapter Fifteen – Chase

  Chapter Sixteen – Shelly

  The Last Chapter – Chase

  Dear Readers

  Reunion by M.R. Joseph

  Titles by Julie Prestsater

  Copyright

  © 2013 Julie Prestsater

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of a reviewer using brief passages.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, real products, and real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. The author also acknowledges the copyrighted or trademarked status and trademark owners of any and all wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction. Cover Photo:© Valua Vitaly | Dreamstime.com

  Dedication

  For Slick …

  I’ll never be able to find the right words to express my appreciation, so I’ll keep it simple: Thank you!

  Acknowledgments

  Firstly, I’d like to give an enormous thank you to Marion Archer of Making Manuscripts for making Chase pretty. I just love your running commentary and your reminders about grammar. And I must apologize to you too. Sorry, Marion. I’m never going to get it. So ten books from now, you’re still going to be correcting my whos and whoms. Haha. I’m so happy Nyrae Dawn pointed me in your direction. You’re stuck with me. I heart you!

  Again, I’d like to thank the huge community of book reviewers and bloggers who continue to put unknown authors such as myself on the map. I couldn’t do it without you. I’m very grateful, more than you’ll ever know.

  I’d like to thank my fellow writers too. I’m fortunate to have met so many wonderful authors who I can go to for advice or vent, or just to have a good laugh. We truly do have an amazing time on FB or Twitter. Big huge hugs to Nyrae Dawn, Bethany Lopez, and M.R. Joseph. It’s great getting to know you all as not only a fellow author, but as a huge fan of your work too. You are an amazing group of ladies!

  As always, I can’t write this page without thanking my fabulous friends, betas, and blurb writer. Andi and Heather, here’s to one day being in the same city at the same time. It’s going to happen. Maybe a NKOTB concert? Wouldn’t that be the best? And finally, thank you to my family. Everyone pitched in while I wrote Chase. Thank you so very much for letting me off the hook for so many things. I promise you’ll get a home cooked meal again. Someday.

  PROLOGUE

  “Do you know what you’ve done to me? What you’ve raised me to be? A cheater. A man who screws over every woman he loves. I lost Shelly and swore I wouldn’t let it happen again. And then when you dropped by to be a dad again, I lost Summer too. I still can’t believe I cheated on her. It was only one kiss with an old friend I ran into at a movie, but I let her believe it was more so she would dump me. I couldn't imagine living without her but I knew I didn’t deserve her love. Listening to your stupid shit about her being with another guy had me so pissed, that I actually hurt her. Physically. I could hear your voice in my head, taunting me about how I wasn’t man enough to keep my woman satisfied. About how she’d moved on so quickly, that she probably never cared. So I grabbed hold of her arm, hoping and praying that she’d say it was all a mistake, and that she did love me and wanted to be with me. But she didn’t…I lost her too. I turned into some kind of madman, grasping at straws for either Summer or Shelly to love me. For either of them to want me or understand me, but all I did was hurt them more, and I made a total ass out of myself in the process. And when you finally left like you always did, I had plenty of alone time without you, and without Summer to think about what I'd done. I'm not blaming you, Dad. It's my own fault for letting your words get to me. But I'm done. I can't do it anymore. I don't want to be that guy anymore…I refuse to be like you."

  CHAPTER ONE - Chase

  What the fuck!

  I lean in closer, studying the email on my laptop. This can’t be right.

  From: Dale

  Subject: Hard up?

  Since when does Chase Marino need an online dating service to get some tail? Are you that hard up after both the loves of your life dumped your ass? Or maybe you’ve bagged all the willing at work, so you’re venturing out to the land of ladies who don’t know you’re a womanizing ass? Either way let me know how it goes. I’m always down to try something new. But seriously, going through a dry spell, huh? I never thought it’d happen. Haha. Good luck, bro.

  I send Dale a quick reply asking him what the hell he’s talking about. I didn’t sign up for anything. The thought of dating right now actually makes me cringe. Dry spell is right. But it’s self-induced. After what I did to Summer and Shelly, I don’t deserve to be in another relationship. In fact, I should’ve never been in a relationship to begin with. My sorry ass of a father has been kind enough to remind me of that.

  I lift my hands to my face and scrub them hard across my skin, trying to wash off the foul mood that’s come over me at the thought of my dear old dad. As if that constant reminder has not been sleeping in my spare bedroom for the last several weeks. I glance at my watch. He’s probably still asleep, catching up on his rest after being out all night. The man is over sixty and still parties like a frat boy. My stomach churns, so I reach for the bottle of Tums in the top drawer of my desk, toss four into my mouth and start chewing on the chalky tablets.

  My computer chimes, letting me know I have an incoming message. This time, Dale doesn’t write a note. Instead, he sends me a link. Immediately, I click on it and the spinning wheel icon rotates until a new page is revealed.

  What the fuck!

  That’s my face.

  That’s my name.

  And that right there, is a fictional profile.

  I sure as hell didn’t create this nonsense.

  Hot! Sexy! And UP for just about anything!

  Well, I have been told I’m hot and sexy, but I do draw the line at many things.

  Looking for a woman who’s different. One who isn’t afraid to try new things. One who is up for a challenge.

  I’m Chase and I like to play. Tag, you’re it.

  Really? That’s so lame. I’m scared to even think about the weirdos who would reply to that kind of message.

  I click back to the email and tap out a resp
onse.

  From: Chase

  Subject: Re: Hard up?

  Dude, that’s not me. Well, it’s my name and face, but I didn’t subscribe to that shit. Someone is playing a joke on me. And I have a feeling I know who it is. Or maybe I should say, I know who they are.

  I send off the email and take a look at my fake profile again. It says I like to drink pickle juice, I have a fetish for bush (as in unkempt bikini lines), and I also love to do karaoke—all of which are dead wrong. Nice. And if I wasn’t completely sure about whom the masterminds of this prank are, I’m absolutely certain once I click on the photo gallery attached to the profile.

  Damn them.

  Gotta give Shelly props for digging into the vault for some of these. If they’re trying to humiliate me, it’s working. There’s one of me in a towel, dripping wet after getting out of the shower. I look good, but it’s not something I’d want to share with the world. Not to mention, I’m posing for the camera like I’m some kind of Playboy model. That was all Shelly’s idea. It was funny at the time. Now? Not so much. There’s also a photo of my closet, which makes me appear a little anal because all my shoes are lined up in the same direction and sorted by color. My clothes are arranged in the same manner.

  Mel added a picture she took when we were in college. I’m passed out in her apartment with my hand down the front of my unbuttoned jeans and a beer can falling out of my other hand. My personal favorite (NOT) had to be gifted by Summer, because it’s an image of me, passed out again—on our old bed—with a bottle of lotion and a hand towel strategically placed on the night stand. What the hell were these women thinking? For the record, the lotion and towel were not mine. They were Summer’s—part of her nightly makeup removal routine—but of course, the photo makes me look like I’m jacking off in my bed, every night.

  Leaning back in my chair, I sit in silence, wondering what I should do about this little problem. I could get the ladies in trouble at work. I could call the police. I could pretend I never saw it. Maybe they’ll take it down soon. No doubt they probably threw it together during a night of drunken, Chase-bashing.

  Fuck that.

  Taking my phone off my desk, I slide my thumb across the screen and start tapping out a group message.

  Hey ladies. Nice to see you’re putting your last few days of summer to good use. Just caught wind of my very own online dating profile. Thanks for the hot and sexy bit. Oh and love the pics. So when do I get to start meeting these ladies? I’m sure I’ve gotten some hits. You wanna play? Then, let’s play. Bring it…

  I don’t have to wait long for the responses to come through.

  Shelly: Who said anyone wants to date your ass?

  Summer: How did you find it? I bet you have an alert set up so you know when anyone breathes your name on the Internet. Sick.

  Melissa: Game on, bitch!

  I wouldn’t expect anything less from any of them. I know them all too well. And I know them well enough to know that I’ve just started some serious shit. I’m in for it now. There’s no backing down.

  Let the games begin.

  Classes start tomorrow and instead of focusing on my plans for the week, I can’t stop thinking about my fake dating profile. They put the damn thing in my real name. My students could find it. Even worse, so could their parents. This is not good. I need to talk to them and get that shit taken down. I don’t care anymore if I sound like a pussy. I just don’t need this crap. I’m done playing games. I don’t want to date—not for real and not for fake. Not to mention, what woman in her right mind would respond to a guy like the one they posted?

  The sound of shuffling feet and the door creaking open startles me from my pity party. My department chairperson stumbles in, looking like he just hopped off a wave. I wonder where he spent his summer surfing and sleeping on the sand. Every year, it’s someplace new. Somewhere even more exotic than the previous year.

  “Hey, Charlie,” I say, rising from my chair and taking a few steps toward him. I hold out my hand to him and he takes it.

  “Hey, bud, nice to see you. Nice to be home.”

  “Don’t lie.”

  We both chuckle a bit, knowing full well either of us would trade our classroom for the beach on most days. Although, it is the beginning of the year, so there’s not much to complain about. Yet.

  He leans against a student desk and scratches his shaggy blond hair. “I’m here on official business.”

  Great. He’s already heard about my new dating strategy. I lower myself slowly into my seat, trying to avert direct eye contact. “I can explain.”

  “Hey, hey.” He waves his hands in the air. “Don’t go confessing to something. I’m not here to blame you for anything.”

  Shaking my head, I breathe a sigh of relief. “Not this time?”

  He smiles. “No. But I did come to ask you for a favor.”

  “Anything. You got it.”

  “I was hoping you would say that.”

  The silly grin spread across his face has me worried.

  Oh shit.

  Maybe I spoke too soon. “Within reason.” I quickly revise my response.

  “Too late. You already said anything.”

  I hunch forward, resting my elbows on my desk. “Fine. What is it?”

  “The principal called me in this morning. Apparently, we have a student teacher… .”

  “No. No. No.” I cut him off. I hated doing my student teaching and there is no way in hell I’m going to take on supervising a newbie. I like having control over my classroom. I don’t need some foreigner coming in and trying to take over. “Find someone else.”

  Charlie stands, pointing his finger at me. “Look. Everyone else has had a turn. You’re the only one who hasn’t had a student teacher, so you’re up.”

  “I’m sure someone else will take them. How about Erikson? He loves that shit.”

  “Chase. Stop being a pain in my ass. Suck it up. You’re doing it.” He juts his finger in my direction again for emphasis.

  “Fuck,” I grunt, burying my face in my hands. “When does this shit start?”

  “Officially, she’ll start the second week of school,” he says, his tone more relaxed.

  “She?” I lift my head.

  “Yes. She.” He glances down at the freshly waxed tile. “And don’t get any ideas. Keep it in your pants.”

  A knock at the door has both of us whipping our heads in its direction.

  Slowly, the door swings open and a young woman peeks in.

  “Good morning, Mr. Morris. I hope I’m not interrupting.” Her voice is soft and sweet, just like the dark curls of her hair waving down her shoulders and back. She’s cute. Very cute, in fact. Even if she is dressed like she’s going to a funeral, with her dark slacks and grandma cardigan.

  He waves her in. “Don’t be silly. Come on in. And I told you to call me Charlie.” He holds out his hand in greeting and shakes hers gently.

  “Nice to see you again, Mr. …er, Charlie.”

  “Well, I was just telling Chase all about you.” He turns to me. “She’s here to observe your planning and beginning of the year routine. Chase, this is your new student teacher, Tiffany Gutierrez.” He averts his attention away from me almost instantly. “Tiffany, this is Chase.”

  Son of a bitch. This is really happening. I thought he said two weeks. Then it hits me. He did make it a point to hang on to the word “officially.”

  “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Mr. Marino.” She stands up straight as a wall and holds out her hand. She’s trying hard to be professional and confident, but her eyes gleam with a wild streak she’s attempting to hide.

  I take her hand in mine, gliding my fingers over hers. Her grip is strong and rigid, nothing like the softness of her skin. Damn, I’m not a drill sergeant. At ease, little lady. Charlie grunts at me and I shake loose of her grip. I raise my brow at him. This was your idea. If you wanted someone who’s going to treat her like a delicate little flower, you picked the wrong person. I
don’t do gentle. Plus, she’s the one holding on to my hand with the grasp of a MMA fighter.

  “Good to meet you too,” I say, with a long sigh.

  Charlie claps his hands together. “Well, I best be going. I’ll give you two some time to plan your semester and get to know each other. Have fun, kids.”

  And with that, he shuffles his board short, flip-flop wearing ass out of my room as I groan.

  Tiffany hoists a rather large black leather tote on a desk. Then, pulls her long hair into a bun and fastens it in place with a pencil. She grabs a pen and legal pad from her tote and drops it on another desk. Finally, she straightens her bulky cardigan over her full hips before taking a seat and reaching for the pen again.

  She doesn’t smile. She doesn’t frown. She’s void of any emotion.

  Have fun, my ass.

  I try giving her my flirty smile to soften her a bit.

  She doesn’t. Instead, she taps her pen on her notepad.

  I have to hold back another groan. This woman is all business and no play.

  What the hell was Charlie thinking?

  “So, where should we begin?” she asks.

  At the end, I want to say, because this…is not going to happen.

  CHAPTER TWO - Chase

  “Hey, did you bring dinner?”

  No hello. Hi. How are you? How was your first day back at work? Nothing. Oh, wait, he did ask for dinner. Should I be grateful?

  “Yeah. I grabbed some In-N-Out on the way home. I don’t feel like cooking. It was a long day.” Between dealing with the three wicked witches and my new shadow, I’m surprised I stayed at work as long as I did. By lunchtime, I was ready to hide in the bathroom like a teenage girl.