31. CHLOE
31
CHLOE
Instantly, I cannot stand her. My dislike for her tickles up my spine as her sharp hazel eyes land on me. Roaming the skin touching her son’s and my undone hair spilling on his pillow.
We are mostly covered by the comforter, so she can’t see our bodies clinging to each other or read my shirt. I picked a tame one in case this happened—hoped it wouldn’t, but alas, it did.
Who shows up unannounced and walks into someone’s bedroom?
The scowl on her face, the lines of her mouth permanently imprinted downward, is nothing like Cal’s. Even when he isn’t smiling, he’s nothing like this woman.
“Callum Jasper, sleeping in? Hm.” I swear she tsks. Tsks her grown son, what the heck?
Also, it’s barely—I tap Cal’s phone to check the time—seven.
“Mom. . . I-I didn’t know you would be here right now,” Cal stutters. I can feel his heart crash against his chest like waves on a beach during a storm under my cheek resting on his chest.
Audrey stands there, licking her lips, moving her mouth around, crossing and uncrossing her hands in front of her stomach. She’s nervous. For herself or Cal?
“And this is?” Her attention narrows on me.
Lights, camera, showtime.
When I agreed to be his fake girlfriend, I didn’t think I’d actually have to do anything girlfriend-y. We’d date for the duration that I live here, break up, and go our separate ways. A few months of reprieve and if he wanted, he could play the heartbroken card .
Did I think I’d ever have to meet the woman? No.
Did I think I’d actually have to pretend with him? No.
Not that it’ll be that hard to pretend with Callum. I never have to pretend with him.
“I’m Chloe, his girlfriend,” I say brightly.
“Right.”
We unfold ourselves from each other and I miss his body being against mine.
She blows out air and a disappointing shake of her head. “I told you that you needed to get serious about a relationship. Playing house with her isn’t going to do you any good.”
“We aren’t playing house.”
“Then why is she living with you? In your bed? You’re better than that, Callum. Better than her.”
Wait. . . what? Better than her?
She doesn’t even know me.
Audrey’s body tenses, face pulled, but she holds her tongue.
“Her apartment flooded. What would you want me to do, put her out on the street?” Cal about gives himself whiplash, staring at me, then his mother frustratingly. Her words cut against our fragile hearts.
His mother snaps at me. She is tempting my overwhelming need to protect Callum. I almost snap back at her before I remember that isn’t who he needs me to be right now.
Breathe, Chloe.
“Give my son and I a moment, would you?”
Before throwing the covers off us, I slip my hand into Cal’s. I squeeze it once. Then again.
I leave the room with a heated spotlight on me. Audrey follows Tucker and I into my bedroom, closing the door, her back flush with it.
“So that’s Sienna Sullivan.” She tries to give me a placating smile. “I didn’t realize it was my parents when I opened the door. Ordered breakfast and they were there. I’m sorry, Chloe—”
“I’m not mad at you.” Tucker jumps up next to Audrey on the bed. She tries to apologize again and I swat it off. Audrey and Callum’s autopilot behavior around their mom has my inner need to protect them scratching at my surface. “Are they popping in or?”
“They want to go to brunch. Their flight back to London is tonight.”
I open my mouth to comment, but close it. Who knows how long they’ve been here and the pick the last day to come see him. I shake off the thought and open the door to my walk-in closet. “May I suggest you wear—”
Turning, I stop Audrey right there. “I’m going to be myself around her.”
“Good.” Audrey’s mouth curls with amusement.
She keeps me company while I finish getting ready.
Downstairs, I find Cal on a kitchen bar stool beside a spitting image of him, only thirty years older. Holy DILF.
If that is what Cal will look like when he’s in his fifties, I won’t only be lucky, but blessed.
Since when do you think about a future with him?
They are sipping tea and sharing a newspaper, passing different pages to each other. Both in glasses. Tucker is under the island, head resting in Mr. Sullivan’s lap.
His dad spots me first, setting everything down and giving me his full attention. Unlike his mom, I instantly like his dad.
“Dad, this is Chloe.” Callum swallows and I nod, silently reassuring him that we’ve got this. “My girlfriend.”
I stick my hand out and he takes it, tugging me into him for a hug. “Pleased to meet you,” he says, releasing me from his embrace. “I’ve heard wonderful things about you.”
“You have?” I peek over at Cal. His cheeks are a shade of red that I commit to memory. I wonder how I can paint his skin that color again? “Cal’s spoken highly of you too, Mr. Sullivan.”
“It’s Tripp.” He moves the papers. “Here, sit. ”
I take Cal’s seat as he pulls a coffee from the fridge. Coming to stand behind me, he places the glass in front of me and, to my surprise, wraps his arms around my shoulder, kissing the top of my head.
“Will you join us for brunch?” Tripp extends the invitation.