Read Online Never Say Never, Part Three (Second Chance Romance, Book 3) by Melissa Shaw - Free Book Online Page B

waved at the elevator which was totally empty. Where had the attendant disappeared to?  
    “That’s enough. Leave now. I want nothing to do with you.”  
    “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I fucking know already. But what the hell, I’d say you owe me sam domn, I mean some damn answers, awww right?”  
    This was possible the best idea she’d had. Confronting him like this, he’d have no choice but to talk to her. No Janet, no Bri-Bri. Nothin’.  
    “I owe you nothing. It’s time to leave.” He pointed but she slapped his hand down and rolled her eyes.
    “I love you, but you can’t say you love me back. Because of what happened with your parents. I get that. But how long will it last?”  
    “Forever. I will never trust you again.” He placed his massive fists on his hips, but there was that look in his eyes again. That need.  
    “You haven’t forgotten our connection. I can tell. You aint forgotten and you aint ever gonna.” Did that make sense? Yeah, it’d made sense. “My point, Chase, is that you can deny this as much as you want, but one day it will come back around. Meant to be.”  
    “Enough. Get out of my building before I have you removed.” That jaw tightened even more. Maybe it was time to go home. There was a Grey’s Papaya somewhere around in the neighborhood.  
    “All right, all right. I’m leaving. Where’s Janet by the way?” Emily peered into the apartment. The nosy bitch would’ve come out if she’d heard it was Emily at the door.  
    “That is none of your goddamn business. Let me make it clear one last time. Delete my number, don’t come here again, and don’t contact me again. It is over. I want nothing to do with you.”  
    Emily nodded again. She hadn’t had real hope for this shit to work out, but it’d been worth a shot. A drunken shot. Woop, woop. “Fine. But I hope you know I’m sorry. For everything.”  
    “Leave.”  
    “I’m leaving.” But she lingered a moment longer to give him a honey-sweet smile. “Nice jammies by the way,” she said and flicked the lapel of his striped blue PJs with a giggle.  
    His lip twitched in what might have been a smile or a snarl of fury, but Emily traipsed off down that carpeted – pretentious rich people loved carpets – hallway and to the elevator. She turned and pressed the button herself, and Chase was still there, watching from just outside his apartment.  
    He didn’t wave and neither did she. The steel doors slid shut, severing the ties between them. The wine – and the vodka in her flask – had dulled the pain, but it would come back accompanied by a massive headache in the morning, without a doubt.  
    Chase Newman wasn’t her man and he wouldn’t be again. That much was clear.  
    She’d never truly deserved that connection. It was too special and fragile.  
    Now, where was that Grey’s Papaya?

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

    There was a jackhammer between Emily’s eyes, right there in the center of her forehead.
    She opened them, met with a ray of sunlight, and scrunched them up again with a groan.
    What had she drank last night? She turned over on her side and dragged the blankets over her head. Nausea tagged along for the ride.
    She reached over to the bedside table and snatched up her watch. She had the day off from work thankfully, not that she’d be in a state to walk, much less dance.  
    It was 10 AM, but she was still exhausted.  
    Memories from the night before drifted up into her consciousness and she snatched at them relentlessly. What was that? Chase?  
    Oh please, God, no. Had she gone through with it?  
    She scratched her head, but it made the jackhammer worse.  
    Emily stumbled out of bed and traipsed across the wooden floorboards and into her kitchen. She ignored the restraining order on the coffee table, but there was a note on the fridge in the worst handwriting she’d ever seen.  
    Chase is done with you. Go party!  
    It was from drunk Emily. Sober Emily was not amused.  
    “Fuck,”