Chapter 22
Y ou could feel the confusion, doubt, and shock pressing down like a heavy cloud when Chloe stole out of the living room.
For over a minute, silence filled the room before everyone began talking at once.
“Adam,” Mom said in disappointment.
“Wait, you were being serious?” Ellie asked, dumbfounded.
“I don’t understand,” Sam’s wife whispered as Sam stated, “There’s no way.”
“But you act like a couple,” Dani said as if she was struggling to wrap her head around it all, while her husband grunted his affirmation.
Dad just stared at me, not saying anything until everyone eventually stopped going back and forth on whether or not they’d had any indication, and if this might still be part of the joke.
Told you I know real when I see it , Dad signed, making my eyelids momentarily shut before I leveled him with a look.
“This isn’t real,” I said, my movements just as exhausted as the words that left me. “She’s...she’s just a co-worker.”
“Then why didn’t you tell us?” Mom asked. “Why didn’t you tell us what was going on when you told us you were coming?”
“Would you have believed me then?” I asked on a weary laugh. “Besides, I was trying to get Briggs to change his mind up until late last night.”
“There’s no way,” Ellie said, vehemently shaking her head. “There’s no way. All of us have literally been watching the two of you for hours now.”
“And not one of us thought something was off between you,” Dani finished for her.
“Or maybe that was because you weren’t really looking,” I told them. “You guys have been dismissing everything Chloe and I have said from the minute we got here. We told you—we tried telling you what this was and what it wasn’t, but maybe you were all just too excited by the idea of what it could be, that you refused to see there’s nothing between us.”
“Maybe you’re the one who isn’t seeing,” Mom said pointedly.
“Yep,” Sam’s wife said with a firm nod.
“I think we’ve had a better look at the two of you than you think,” Sam said, a knowing smirk tugging at his mouth. “We actually might see you better than either of you can.”
I dragged my hands over my face before shooting a glare his way. “There is—” Movement off to the side had my head whipping toward the entryway, and then dread was ripping through me. “Chloe,” I snapped, already pushing up and launching myself over the couch.
She didn’t so much as look at me as she tried to stealthily make it to the front door, as if the sun could go unnoticed.
Reaching her just as she grabbed the handle, I slammed my hand against the door and hissed, “What are you doing?”
“Let me go.”
“I’m not touching you.”
Hazel eyes snapped toward me and narrowed. “Let me leave .”
“Can’t do that, Bubbles.”
Anger and sadness and helplessness warred on her beautiful face before her shoulders sagged with her exhale. “Please,” she breathed. “I never should’ve agreed to this. You never should’ve agreed to this.”
“Not my call.”
“I don’t care,” she softly cried. “I don’t care. There was nothing stopping you from leaving me behind or in a hotel. I hate what this is doing to you and what it’s doing to your family. So, let me fix this. Let me leave.”
“I can’t,” I reminded her and was surprised to realize I didn’t want her to go. Not that I was surprised I wanted to be near her, but be near her here . With my family. In my childhood home.
This morning, I’d been consumed by my guilt over what this trip was going to do. Throughout the day and night, that guilt had continued sliding back into my veins whenever anyone in my family had said something about Chloe in terms of the future.
But she’d fit so seamlessly here.
My family had pulled her into the fold as if she’d always been there. Which was really saying something, considering it’d taken too many visits to count for my sister- and brother-in-law to really become part of the family. Then again, I was sure Chloe’s joyful persona could win anyone over.
“Adam—”
“How’d you even plan on leaving?” I asked when I realized she had no way of getting anywhere.
A whisper of shame swept across her face, but she held my stare as she answered, “I took the keys to the rental.” When my eyebrows shot up, she hurried to continue. “You took my phone. I took your keys.”
My head bobbed for a while before I asked, “And how’d you plan on finding your way anywhere?”
“I would’ve eventually found my way somewhere,” she said defensively. “If not, someone would’ve helped.”
If she was anyone else, I would’ve told her not likely , but with Chloe, I had a feeling anyone she came across would’ve been all too happy to help her. Maybe even hand over their own phone. Drive her themselves.
Walking sunshine, and all.
“Keys,” I quietly demanded. When it looked like she was going to double down, I held my hand out. “Keys, Bubbles. I can’t let you leave.”
“But you need to,” she said confidently, her head tipping ever so slightly toward the living room. “For them.”
“Pretty sure my family likes you more than they like me right now.” Her eyes rolled only to widen when I took a step closer. “We’ll leave in a week. Until then, please stop fighting me on this. Please go back to our room and unpack. Please stay.”
I wondered if I hadn’t been standing so close, if I hadn’t been studying her as intently as I always did, if I would’ve noticed the surprise and longing in her eyes that abruptly vanished. Her spirit seemed crestfallen, as if she’d been slapped with a cruel reminder, for long, painful seconds before she turned and walked away.
And I just watched her go, unable to say anything when I was too thrown by her reaction—when something about it had her words from earlier this evening playing in my head again.
“No, I know what this is. You’re doing what you can to get your answers. You’re trying to trick the nerdy loner into thinking someone could actually like her, when I’ve already fallen for that before.”
The pained words had tripped me up earlier, but even more so now, I didn’t know what to do with them.
Of course I wanted answers, but I wasn’t trying to trick her into giving them to me. I wasn’t trying to trick her into thinking anything at all, unless you called failing at keeping my distance from a beautiful woman a new way of gaining information.
But that wasn’t the part that had been nagging at me all night.
I knew women. I also knew women who liked to pretend they weren’t pretty, when they knew they were beautiful. Women who acted like they didn’t know every single guy in the room was staring at them, but they were secretly eating it up.
After all, those were usually the women I went for.
Chloe was different. She genuinely hadn’t noticed any of the mens’ stares today, and whenever a man had been one of the people trying to gift her something, she’d innocently and incorrectly thought he was just being kind and probably does that with everyone .
And now she thought I was trying to trick her into thinking someone might actually like her.
The girl who couldn’t go anywhere without everyone falling in love with her.
I turned at the sound of my dad’s sigh and signed, Do you want us to go?
No, he signed like I was being ridiculous. She’s a sweet girl, and we all enjoy having her here.
And what happens when everyone gets too attached? I asked.
His eyebrows lifted, but he didn’t respond as he seemed to wait for me to come to a conclusion I refused to. What happens when you fail to see what’s in front of you? he finally tossed back.
Dad, I can’t , I said, emphasizing the last word. Just as he started asking Why , I added, It’s complicated.
He nodded as if considering that, then asked, Are you seeing someone? When I shook my head, he asked, Is she?
That familiar feeling of possession and jealousy coursed through me as I thought of Owen Vance, but I just gave a hard shake of my head.
Nothing complicated about that, he said as if that was that, then leaned forward to grab my shoulder the way he did when he really wanted us to pay attention to him. I’ll say it again: I know real when I see it. Believe me or don’t, but believe that she won’t be around forever.
I dipped my head in understanding, then signed a halfhearted Good night as he did the same.
With a sigh, I turned and headed to my room. When I got to the closed door, I hesitated for long seconds before finally knocking.
But when a minute came and went without an answer, my heart started pounding harder and harder as I realized she’d never given me the keys back, and climbing out of the windows wasn’t all that difficult.
I would know.
I barreled into the room just as she stepped into it from the attached bathroom. A short scream burst from her as she instinctively scrambled backward, clutching a small bag to her chest.
“Sorry,” I began, hand already raised to explain as she demanded, “What are you doing?”
“You didn’t answer.”
Her fingers had been lifting to her temple, but at my response, they stilled before falling like a weight. “So you nearly gave me a heart attack?” she hissed.
“I didn’t—” I gave her a look to let her know this was probably going too far, then repeated, “You didn’t answer when I knocked. I thought you’d left.”
She held out the same hand, gesturing past me as if to remind me of the conversation we’d just had in the entryway.
Just as a disbelieving breath fled from her, I informed her, “Not the only way out of this house, Bubbles.”
She seemed to contemplate that, but not in a way that had me worrying she’d go for any of them the next time. More like she was acknowledging the thoughts that’d had me running into the room.
“Well, I’m here,” she said like she knew she was a burden and needed to apologize because she didn’t know how to fix it.
Even though I knew her tone was because of my family, the words gathering on my tongue had nothing to do with them or the situation we were in because I’d brought a girl home. I wanted to know how Chloe genuinely didn’t notice the attention she got from men. I wanted to ask what she’d thought was happening every time Gray flirted with her. I wanted to ask if she really thought no one could like her and how she could think that. I wanted to know how Owen Vance had been her only boyfriend.
But those questions would only lead to dangerous conversations and confessions, so I just walked over to grab my bag. The keys were on top of it.
“You can unpack,” I told her and gestured to the dresser, all while keeping my attention off her. “All the drawers are empty. There are hangers in the closet.”
Without waiting for her response, I took my stuff into the bathroom to change and get ready for bed. Not that I’d be sleeping tonight. Not near her.
But once I’d brushed my teeth and was searching through my bag for clothes to change into, my hand curled around her phone.
Tapping on the screen, I saw the notifications for multiple texts, and felt a deep, unsettling rage slowly curl through my body because I knew without needing the confirmation that they were from Vance.
I’d already seen Chloe’s messages. She didn’t message many people, and one of those people was in New York, probably having an amazing time, even if she’d initially been irritated with Briggs.
I studied the darkened screen for longer than I should’ve, wanting to do this without involving Chloe, but I’d never asked Gray for the passcode when we’d been going through it. And the more I thought of it, the more I realized I couldn’t do this without involving her.
She’d given us permission to go through her phone then . Not now. And she’d already had enough of one man twisting her consent until it fit what he wanted.
Once I was changed, I grabbed one last item out of my bag before zipping it up, then headed into my room and stopped short.
There was nothing special Chloe was doing to cause the reaction I was having then. She was just propped up against my pillows, long hair up in that messy knot she sometimes wore it, reading the same book from the flight. But the sight of her there had me wishing I could come into my room and find this every night.
I forced my stare to the floor and reminded myself why that could never happen, why that was dangerous , until my thoughts were clear again, then headed toward her.
“Here,” I muttered as I held out one of my hoodies.
I felt her hesitation and surprise. I felt her cautiously take it from me. But I didn’t look at her because some part of me was afraid of what I’d say if I did.
“We need to talk,” I began as I took a step away from the bed. “You have messages waiting on your phone, and I have a feeling I know who they’re from.”
I expected her to demand to know why I’d checked her phone at all or to give it back. But instead, she remained silent as her unease slammed into me. And despite my reluctance, my stare shifted back to her. Taking in the way she was staring blankly off to the side, uncertainty and shame plaguing her features as she gently clutched my hoodie to her chest.
“From that reaction, you think they’re from him too,” I assumed and watched as her hazel eyes flicked to me before darting away again, but her subtle nod was enough.