Chapter 35
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
CHLOE
I knock on the door, and a heartbeat later, it flies open, and I’m wrapped in my best friend’s warm embrace.
“I’m so glad to see you!”
Lola ushers me through to the living room, where Christopher is lying on a yellow playmat with a giraffe teething ring clutched in his pudgy little hands.
“He’s grown so much.” Unable to resist, I pick him up to give him a cuddle.
Sighing, Lola sits in an armchair. “He’s growing like a weed. And he’s started solids, so his poop is…” she scrunches up her nose, “pungent.”
With a laugh, I sit on the couch to bounce him on my knees.
“I’m desperate to hear all about France,” Lola says. “But first, how’s your dad? Is the new medication working?”
Happy to delay my confession about my night—and flight—with Roman, I give her more details about Dad’s second infusion than she probably bargained for and tell her about my hesitant hopes that I’m seeing minor signs of improvement already.
I mention how helpful Carol has been, but when I start on Dad’s upcoming reassessment with his rheumatologist, Lola cuts in, clearly eager to move on.
“I’m so glad things are looking up for your dad. And you. But I’ve been patient enough. So spill. I want to hear about your trip. I’m still so jealous.”
My throat constricts, and I focus on Christopher’s delighted smile, willing my eyes to stop stinging. I refused to give her the details over the phone, but now that we’re face-to-face, I’m second-guessing that decision.
When I told myself I’d deal with the fallout of my time with Roman, I was obviously still drunk on sex. Because here I am, a week later, and I haven’t dealt with it. Not very well, anyway.
Pretending such an incredible sexual experience never happened has been the worst kind of torture for me.
Roman, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to be having any issues with it at all.
The minute the plane landed, he switched it all off. All the passion, all the tenderness. He locked it away as if his control had never been tested at all.
Yes, I agreed to that, but it turns out experiencing it really sucks.
He opened my eyes to what sex should feel like. Knowing him, though, it was probably nothing special. I can only imagine all his sexual interactions are that intense.
For days now, I’ve struggled to work through our encounters, and he’s likely already filed them away in his that was fun but forgettable memory bank and moved on.
“Chloe?” Lola asks. “Are you okay?”
Swallowing past the tightness in my throat, I nod. “Things with Roman got a little… complicated.”
“I knew it!” she shrieks, startling Christopher, who promptly bursts into tears.
I stand and hold him high in the air, pretending he’s an airplane, until he’s squirming and giggling again. Though I hate to see the little guy upset, I’m thankful for the excuse to delay the inevitable commentary from Lola.
But when I sit and brave a look at her, her eyebrows are arched high.
“So what happened? Did you two actually get jiggy with it?”
I let out a choked laugh. “Get jiggy with it?”
“Yeah, you know. Do the horizontal tango, make the beast with two backs, knock boots, jump bones, bump uglies, play hide the sausage?—”
I hold up a hand. “I’m sorry, what is happening right now?”
“Jamie and I have been trying to figure out what our code for having sex is going to be once Christopher can talk and really understand what we’re saying.”
“You could probably just spell it out for the first few years.”
She waves her hand in the air. “Back to the question. Did you and your hot-as-sin boss have S-E-X while you were in France?”
Lips pressed together, I lower my head. “Yes. Also on the plane on the way home.”
She slaps a hand to her chest. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me the minute it happened.”
“It has to stay a secret. I really shouldn’t be telling you at all, but I need someone to talk to about it.”
She frowns. “You’re keeping it a secret? That doesn’t sound good. Does that mean you’re sneaking around now? Or was it a one-time thing?”
My heart sinks. “A one-time thing.”
With a narrowed stare, she sits back. “And you agreed to that?”
I can’t help but let out a long sigh. “It seemed like a good idea at the time. He has good reasons for not wanting it to continue. And for keeping it a secret. It’s just… I thought I’d be fine with it. But it turns out, maybe I’m not.”
Her expression softens in sympathy. “You want more?”
I bite my lip so it doesn’t wobble. “It’s silly. I agreed to all of it. I just didn’t expect my feelings to get involved so quickly.”
“Oh, Chloe.” She sits next to me and envelops me in a hug. “I think your feelings were already involved, otherwise you wouldn’t have slept with him.”
I shake my head, sniffing back the emotion still begging to be released. “It was just a crush.”
“Babe, I haven’t seen you crush on anyone since you were thirteen and had a thing for Bobby from art class. You’ve always been so focused, and the few men you have dated haven’t really been the serious type. It kind of felt like you were just going through the motions.”
“That’s not true. I mean…” I sigh, looking into Christopher’s sparkly blue eyes. “I don’t know. Maybe it is. Regardless, it’s done and we’re back to being boss and assistant.”
She arches a brow. “And how is that going?”
“He doesn’t seem to have a problem with it.”
She lets out an unladylike snort. “Men never do. Then again, remember when Jamie and I broke up for a few weeks during our senior year? He seemed so unaffected. But then we got back together, and he told me he’d been torn up inside the whole time. He just didn’t want anyone to know.”
My heart clenches. “Are you saying that’s what Roman’s doing?”
Brow creased, she shakes her head. “I don’t know the guy, so I couldn’t say for sure. He could have his reasons, or he could just be an asshole.”
“I don’t think he’s an asshole. He’s done a lot of incredibly thoughtful things for me.”
“He may be thoughtful in one area of his life, but that doesn’t mean he can’t be a giant, ignorant dick in other areas.” She clasps my hand. “The only thing I care about is that you’re okay. If he’s making you upset, then I’m going to be pissed at him.”
Tears still threatening, I let out a sad laugh. “What would I do without you?”
“We’ll never know, will we?”
Christopher squirms and I lay him down on his playmat, then sit beside Lola again. “What do you think I should do?”
“Keep doing your job. Look after yourself and your mental health. And do your best to move on emotionally. Whatever his reasons, tying yourself up in knots over a man who’s not crazy about you the way you deserve is a waste of time. And if that’s the case, I promise there’s someone else out there who’s a much better fit.”
I nod, my chest a little looser. “You’re right.”
“Okay.” Her mouth turns up in a wicked smile. “Now give me all the spicy details.”
“What? You just said I should forget about him.”
“You should. Immediately after you’ve told me everything. What’s that man stallion like in bed? Asking for a friend. Which is me, of course.” She winks.
I can’t help but laugh, the sound lighter than I expected. My professional relationship with Roman might be in a strange place, but I can always count on Lola to cheer me up.
So I tell her about Nice and Paris. When I mention Katherine, her expression sharpens. “His ex-wife?”
“Yeah, she was stunning.”
“And she warned you off him?”
I frown. “In a roundabout way. It was odd.”
“Wow. Do you think she still wants him?”
An unwarranted spike of jealousy pierces my ribs. “I wouldn’t blame her if she did. But she’s dating someone else.”
She huffs. “That doesn’t mean anything. Or maybe she senses the connection between the two of you and doesn’t like it. Some people can’t move on, even if it’s been years.”
“Maybe.” A seed of hope tries to blossom inside me, but I crush it before it can take root. “That’s enough about my self-inflicted drama. Tell me how things are going with you.”
An hour later, I head home, and that night, as I lie in bed, staring up at the ceiling, I turn Lola’s words over in my mind. God, I hope I never become the kind of person who clings to a dream so hard I lose sight of reality.
Dreaming can be dangerous. It makes you believe in possibilities that might never exist. And when those dreams don’t come true, or worse, when they come crashing down, it’s so much harder to recover from. If I don’t keep my feet firmly planted in the real world, if I let my dreams blind me to what’s real, there’s a good chance it’ll bite me in the ass.