Free Betrayal by Aubrey St. Clair Page A

invasion of privacy, but I have to know more.  If they are having a conversation about me, if he's still having any kind of physical relationship with her, I deserve to know.
    I click to turn his phone on but I'm prompted for a password.  The only message unblocked is the current one. 
    Damn .
    Taking a deep breath to steady my pounding heart, I force away the negative thoughts.  I don't know anything.  I shouldn't have looked at the message in the first place.  I have to trust that Chase will tell me if Denise is up to any funny business.  Then again, I've only known Chase for less than a week and who knows how long she's known him.  Can I really trust him at all?  He's a poker player.  He makes his money bluffing, which is really just another word for lying.  He makes money by keeping his emotions in check and his thoughts to himself.  Can you ever really know someone like that?  I suddenly miss Evelyn.  My best friend always had my back, and I feel shitty again for ignoring her all week.
    "You ready?"  Chase's voice startles me and I jump.  "Shit, sorry.  You okay?"
    "Yeah," I nod and then work up a smile.  "Just thinking about a friend back home."  Technically true.
    Chase nods, putting his hand on me so that he can rub empathetic circles on my back.  It makes me feel instantly better.  Harrison would have probably made some joke about me missing my friends but Chase can instantly  tell that I just need a bit of reassurance and compassion.  I must be misreading the whole thing with Denise.  He'll tell me about it in his own time if it's anything.
    We leave the photo shoot and hop into his waiting limo on our way to his house.  He's sitting across from me on the bench seats as usual.
    "Sorry about those girls."  He shoots his half smile at me as he reaches forward to squeeze my knee.  "Sometimes fans can get a little personal.  They feel like they know you so well after seeing you on TV that they forget you don't know them at all."
    I shrug.  I'm over it.  I'm more disturbed by the message from Denise than a couple of fan girls.  I reach into my purse and pull out his wallet and phone, handing them back to him.  I watch as he turns the phone on and flips through it briefly, presumably checking his messages. 
    "My bike is ready."
    "What?"  I'm not sure what he's talking about.
    He looks up at me.  "My motorcycle.  It's been in the shop all week.  You ever been on one?"
    I shake my head.
    "Really?  Never?  Well then that's what we'll do tomorrow."
    "I don't know," I protest.  "Motorcycles seem pretty dangerous."
    "Oh, Lila.  You gotta live a little, babe!  There's nothing like riding really fast in the desert, the wind wiping against your body and the scenery going by you in a blur.  It gets your heart pumping, the blood in your veins will feel alive."
    "I thought that's what sex is for," I smile and wink.
    Chase laughs.  "I'm not going to argue with that.  But if I can't keep you naked and sequestered in my room 24 hours a day, then there are other ways to feel exhilarated."
    "I guess."
    "You'll love it, I promise.  You have to live a little, Lila.  You don't always have to be so safe!"
    "I'm not.  I do!" I protest, but he has me pegged.  I've always lived too safely, afraid to take chances.  In fairness, I think it's probably easier to live a little closer to the edge when you're rich than when you're struggling to make rent each month.  It's not like I have friends with motorcycles or the money to go diving with sharks in Australia or anything.
    "We'll see," he says.  "Tomorrow."
    "Tomorrow," I agree.  I'm not exactly looking forward to it, but at least if he's making plans with me for tomorrow then he isn't planning on ditching me for Denise.  I'm feeling better about that situation already.
    We arrive at the house and he lets us in after telling his driver to go for lunch but to bring us something on his way back.  We'll have a later lunch so that we can get in the