“Can I try it again?” she asked through clenched teeth.
“No.” In case she had any ideas, I backed up. “So are we good now?”
“You and I are never going to be good, Oliver. But have a nice life. I’m sure you’ll be very happy with Elsa.”
“You mean Alison?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know her name. She just looks like the type to set off an eternal winter.”
I grimaced. “Look, I don’t want to be enemies, Chloe. We go back a long way.”
She exhaled. “Fine. We’re not enemies. But we’re not friends either. And your ten seconds are up.” She brushed by me and returned to her friends.
I went to the bar and got another round for Alison and me, then joined her in the lobby where she was talking to my brother and his wife. Chloe and I didn’t speak again.
She did get the last word, though.
On the ride home, during which Alison was being even frostier than usual, she snipped, “Tell me the truth. Did you ever have sex with that Chloe girl or not?”
“Why?”
“Because she said something weird to me. Either she’s seen you naked or she hates you.”
“What did she say?”
“Just now, in the lobby bathroom before we left, I came out of the stall to wash my hands and she was putting lipstick on in the mirror. She congratulated me on our engagement.”
“That doesn’t sound—”
“Then she said, ‘Lucky you. That great big dick in your bed for the rest of your life.’”
I burst out laughing.
“So was she calling you a name or referring to part of your anatomy?” Alison demanded. “Tell me now.”
“Both,” I said, even though I knew she was going to give me hell for lying to her.
But I couldn’t help it. Only Chloe would say something like that. I realized then how much I missed her in my life.
Would she ever forgive me?
18
Oliver
NOW
The smile on Chloe’s face as she walked back to the table was one I had only seen once before, in a hotel room in Chicago after I’d asked her to move in with me. It was sweet. Genuine. Tender.
And it made me feel like shit.
She’d opened herself up to trusting me, and I was still keeping the truth from her. I had to tell her the thing I didn’t want to tell her, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it yet. There would be fireworks for sure. Accusations. Rage. That adoring smile would slide right off her face, and I might never see it again.
I’d messed things up with Chloe before, and it had taken me years to get this second chance. I wasn’t an idiot—there wouldn’t be a third, so I had to get this right.
Should I tell her now?
Part of me knew it would be the best strategy, especially since my mother would soon be involved. I love her, but she is the worst secret-keeper ever. She just gets so excited and can’t help herself. I could totally imagine my mother saying things to Chloe that would tip her off as to what I had done. The lie I’d told. The plan I’d put in place.
It was all a means to an end, and I’d thought it would be worth it, but I was less and less certain Chloe would agree. This thing between us had me all messed up. How had I not anticipated it? What a fucking idiot I was.
“Hey,” she said, sliding into the booth across from me. “Ready to go? I’m dying for a shower.”
The thought of her in the shower was a welcome distraction. “What a coincidence,” I said, taking an uneaten fry from her plate and sticking it in my mouth. “I am too.”
We drove to the inn, checked in, and brought our bags to the room. It felt good to open a hotel room door and watch Chloe walk in ahead of me. To carry her suitcase for her. To watch her set her purse on the desk and look at the king-sized bed, knowing we’d sleep in it together tonight.
Among other things.
“This is weird, isn’t it?” she asked as the door slammed shut behind me.
“What is?”
“Us checking into a hotel room together.”
I laughed. “I was just thinking how cool it was.”
She grinned ruefully. “If anyone would have told me yesterday …”
“I know.” I took my wallet and phone from my pocket and set them on the dresser. “When I was driving up on Sunday, I wasn’t even sure I could get you to talk to me.”
“I wasn’t sure I was going to.” She turned around and sat at the foot of the bed to untie her hiking boots. “You were pretty persuasive.”
“I had to be.” Dropping down next to her, I did the same. “I had years of resentment to overcome. Those were some pretty big walls I had to tear down.”
“Well, you smashed them to pieces, I’d say.” She stared at the laces she’d just undone. “Congratulations.”
“Hey.” I knelt on the floor at her feet. “What’s wrong?”
She took a breath. “I was just thinking how I spent years building up my defenses where you’re concerned, and you destroyed them in one night. It’s a little frightening, to be honest.”
“You have nothing to be scared of, Chloe. I’ll be honest. When I came here to ask you to partner up with me, it was strictly business. I was hoping we could be friends again, and partners going forward, but I had no idea this would happen.”
“And what is this?” she asked. “What are we doing?”
“Well, first we’re going to take a shower.” I pulled off her boots. “Then maybe a little nap, since we didn’t get much sleep last night.” I tugged off her socks. “Then I thought maybe we could explore the dunes a little, have some dinner, take a walk. Or we can stay in our room all night, fuck like bunnies, and scheme to take over the world.” Standing up, I took her by the hands and brought her to her feet. “I’m up for anything, as long as I’m with you.”
She smiled. “Okay. I guess I just need to stop worrying. Can I have a five minute head start in the shower?”
“You …” I kissed her forehead. “Can have anything you want.”
As she undressed and slipped into the bathroom, the smile was back on her face.
All I had to do was figure out how to keep it there.
“What book is this from again?” I traced the script tattooed on her back as the steam rose in hot clouds around us.
“It’s not from a book, it’s from a play, and I have told you that a million times.” She gave me a dirty look over one shoulder.
I grinned. “Sorry. What play?”
“A Midsummer Night’s Dream.” She stood up taller and raised one fist. “O, when she is angry, she is keen and shrewd. She was a vixen when she went to school, and though she be but little, she is fierce.”
I applauded her performance, and she turned around and curtsied. “Thank you. It’s the only thing I remember from high school English.”
I wrapped my arms around her. “It suits you. I like that whole vixen part.”
“I liked that part too. It was the only character in a Shakespeare play I ever related to.” She put her hands on my chest. “What was your favorite book in high school?”
“I don’t remember anything from high school.”