Chasing Hearts (Robert Chase x Reader)

Chapter 19
Turning Tides

The text came early, long before you'd planned to be awake.

House: Pack sunscreen. It's Wilson's birthday. We're going to the beach.

You stared at the message, blinking in disbelief. Wilson's birthday wasn't for another few months. You even double-checked your calendar just to be sure. But questioning House never got you anywhere—except, maybe, into more trouble.

By the time you reached the hospital parking lot, Chase and Cameron were already waiting, a cooler sitting between them.

"Please tell me you don't actually believe this is about Wilson," Cameron said, adjusting her sunglasses.

"I didn't think I had a choice," you replied, slinging your bag over your shoulder.

Chase smirked, leaning casually against his car, his hair gleaming in the morning light. "With House, it's better not to ask questions. Saves time and sanity."

You gave him a skeptical look. "Says the guy who brought snacks like he's been planning this for weeks."

"Someone had to," Chase replied with a shrug.

The beach was a riot of sound and color, far livelier than you'd expected. Waves crashed in the background, kids shrieked as they darted in and out of the surf, and the scent of sunscreen and salt hung in the air. House had somehow commandeered a small spot, complete with portable beach chairs, and a cooler stocked with sodas, beer, and an alarming number of Twinkies.

Wilson stood in the middle of it all, his expression a mix of confusion and exasperation. "This isn't my birthday."

House popped open a can of soda, a grin plastered across his face. "It is now. Happy fake birthday, Jimmy. Don't say I never do anything nice for you."

"Nice would've been letting me sleep in," Wilson muttered, running a hand through his hair.

"Or giving me advance notice," Cameron added, already surveying the scene like she was planning an escape route.

"Advance notice ruins the surprise," House shot back.

"Surprise or ambush?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Details," House replied with a dismissive wave.

"Alright, minions, get to work," he also announced, clapping his hands. "I want tents set up, food unpacked, and at least one of you to find me a recliner-worthy patch of sand."

"Why do I feel like this was the real reason we were invited?" Chase muttered under his breath as he grabbed one of the tent bags.

"You're catching on," House said, overhearing him anyway.

Chase, Wilson, and Foreman trudged toward the open sand with the tents, arguing over where to set them up. Meanwhile, you and Cameron were left to deal with the picnic boxes.

"Guess we get the glamorous job," you said, pulling out a stack of sandwiches from the cooler.

Cameron smirked. "I think I'd rather prep food than argue with House about tent stakes."

As you unpacked containers of fruit, chips, and drinks, the conversation drifted toward work, then life outside of it.

"So," Cameron began, her tone light but pointed, "where do you think things are going with Chase?"

You paused, your hand hovering over the tub of pasta salad. "What do you mean?"

Cameron raised an eyebrow, a small smile playing on her lips. "Come on, it's obvious you two are moving forward. Or at least, he seems to think so."