Free Dancer by Emma Clark Page B

reading. Dad had retired to bed.
    Caught up in her romance book, Mom didn't notice us leaving. Besides it wasn't like I planned to put out for Chase. I took at face value his proposal to talk.
    I led Chase upstairs to my room.
    "I'm leaving Sherrie," he said when we perched on the bed.
    "What does that have to do with me or the baby?"
    "Everything." In that second our gazes locked and it dawned on me what he meant.
    I couldn't believe it. The idea was too fantastic. Insane.
    "Are you asking me—on a date or something?" I asked.
    "I guess. Yeah I am. Will you?" His voice rose as his confidence returned.
    Confidence and usual conceit.
    "Chase..."
    "Yeah?"
    "I'm not ready. Not yet."
    "Okay." Disappointment filled his eyes. "But I think it'd be better for our son if we were together—as a couple."
    "Better for our son or better for you?" I questioned, then regretted it. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it."
    He exhaled, buried his head in his hands. "Are you ever going to forgive me?"
    "I already have."
    "Then why not?" He raised his head, earnest as he regarded me. I wasn't familiar with such a look coming from him .
    "Maybe because I'm afraid you haven't forgiven me."
    Chase gripped my hand in his. "I'm not pissed off. Not anymore. I know why you did those—things. After I saw how Allison's death hurt you, that's when I knew how much of an ass I'd been."
    "Really?"
    "I'm not exactly sayin' you had a right to do those things. I'm saying I didn't have any right to use you, or treat you the way I did." He paused. "I really think we should try to work it out for Cole's sake. I don't want him growing up not knowing who I am."
    "It's not good enough, Chase. It can't happen just for the baby's sake."
    "I know. It wouldn't be for that reason alone. Sam, I'm trying to do the right thing and you're not making it easy." Anger flared in his eyes.
    "I don't mean to make it hard on you," I reasoned. "I just can't trust you yet. It's too soon. Give it time. This isn't something we should force."
    "I get what you're saying, but what are you afraid of? Me?"
    I considered him for a long moment. "Yeah, I'm afraid of you. I'm also afraid of myself. I don't want us to make a mistake and end up hurting each other again. It scares me shitless."
    Chase cracked a smile. "True. We got pretty nuts for a while, didn't we? I know it's not funny but... in some twisted way, it's fucking hilarious."
    His grin was contagious. I averted my gaze and wagged my head, unable to fathom making light of those awful memories.
    "This might seem crazy to you, but being your prisoner had its perks," he added. "It even kinda turned me on—sometimes."
    Oh yeah. I remember.
    "Come on, we won't fall into old habits," he said. "Give us a chance."
    "Chase, we don't know each other well enough. All we have in common is our baby."
    "It doesn't have to stay that way. We can get to know each other, we'll start over from the beginning. Do it the right way."
    I shook my head.
    "Come on, Samantha."
    "Don't call me that."
    "That's your name, isn't it?"
    I shrugged.
    "You don't know if that's your name?" he asked, sounding appalled.
    "Stop it, Chase. I mean it."
    "Stop what?"
    "You know." 
    "Okay. So as I was saying, let's start over. My name's Chase. What's yours, pretty girl?"
    My gaze found his. "I'm not doing this."
    "Sure you are. Now—what's your name, sweetheart? I'm Chase and it's great to meet you, if you'd ever tell me your damn name." He winked.
    I didn't understand. What kind of weird game was this? How could I know whether or not he was toying with me?
    He'd done it before.
    "Your name, ma'am?" he joked, squeezing my hand. "Hello. I asked you for your name, cutie."
    I heavily searched his eyes for sincerity. Chase showed genuine warmth with his gentle gaze and smiling lips.
    His smile dissolved as he raised a hand to my cheek and caressed it.
    "Sam, I won't hurt you and I seriously doubt you'll hurt me. I think we've both learned a lot from this shitty experience—er