Chasing the Dream: Dream Series, Book 3 by Isabelle Peterson

seem drunk at all. She said he was passed out drunk, but he seemed as sober as the day is long.
    He laughed his hearty laugh. “God, you’re adorable! You’re single? Really?”
    “And staying single,” I reminded him of our dinner chat. “And you. You don’t know if you have a girlfriend or not. So we’re both off the market, it seems.”
    He didn’t reply. He only stared at me, chewing on the inside of his lower lip. What I wouldn’t give to know what was going on behind those violet-blues.

    S ingle.
    Most girls said to me that they were single and that was an open door. That was the invitation for me to rip off a pair of barely-there skivvies and give it to her good. The proof was in my pocket with the phone number.
    But Fifi, er, Phoebe… It was natural to ponder, What would she be like? When it came to Phoebe, that question was heavy. For so long, I have been surrounded by fake, and easy, and superficial. Phoebe was real. She was tangible. She was honest and reachable. My cock twitched at the thought of her under me. Shamelessly? No. I was a guy. That’s what happened to all of us red-blooded American men. Thoughts of a beautiful, mysterious, and sexy woman made our dicks ache. It was normal.
    Single. She made it sound like such a challenge.
    Was she one of those relationship girls? Is that what it would take? I had never wanted to be in a relationship. I’d sworn them off. I enjoyed my free wheeling ways. And besides, I had a reputation.i I was Chase Smythe.
    Single. Ha! Challenge accepted.

CHAPTER 9

    O nce we got to Rockefeller Plaza, we were hit with another group of photographers. Safely inside, we checked in with the producers of the Late Show with Jimmy Fallon, and were whisked away into the studios. As Chase’s “personal assistant,” the thought of which still made me giggle, I was given the opportunity to sit in the Green Room with the other stars on the show that night, or sit in the audience. Last week I remember watching the promos for this week’s shows. Jimmy was calling the whole week “Summer 2013 MoviePalooza,” the other stars on that night were Jennifer Lawrence from Catching Fire (and Hunger Games ), which was coming out soon and I couldn’t wait, and musical guest Ed Sheeran. No brainer. Green Room all the way for me.
    The taping moved at a breakneck speed and was a flurry of activity, unlike the shooting at The Met. I got to meet all the stars, including Jimmy Fallon, but was so star-struck, just like I had been meeting Chase for the first time, that I forgot to ask for autographs. In fact, I could barely introduce myself without feeling like a total dork. But everyone was so incredibly nice.
    Chase’s interview was first, but before he went out, he changed clothes. He’d changed out of the tight black t-shirt and ratty jeans, and was now wearing a pink button down shirt that made his skin glow and pair of tight black jeans that left little to the imagination.
    “Hug for luck?” he asked. Omigod . Touching Chase, again? Surely I was not going to survive the day.
    “Like you need it,” I said with a half smile, which apparently he took as a yes to his request, because before I knew it, I was swept up in his arms, my whole body buzzing with off the charts electricity. I inhaled quickly and got a nose full of Chase, that heady mix that left you swimming.
    “Come on,” he said setting me down and taking my hand, dragging me from the Green Room. “You can sit in the wings. It’s a better view.” And in the whirlwind that was Chase Smythe, I was whisked away and seated on a stool, just off stage behind a curtain.
    Chase’s interview on the show tonight was not only about his guest appearance as Detective Young on the show, Cops Undercover , that I was his PA for, but also about his new film releasing next month, Book Ends. Of course, conversation turned to the burning question of nudity on screen.
    “Oh, my trainer was brutal with my workouts so my ass would look it’s