Chapter 30 Chloe
chloe
Maverick: “Big day, little crab. Opportunities are opening up, and today you’re built for winning—whether you panic or not.”
I can't stop the smile that spreads across my face as I reread the horoscope that Maverick sent me this morning.
Chloe: Done! I’m almost to The Den. I’ll meet you there?
Maverick: How’d it go?! I’ll be there in 5.
Chloe: Crushed it.
Maverick: Of course you did. The rest of those chumps never stood a chance against you.
The trees lining the sidewalk up to the coffee shop have started to shed their leaves.
A crisp brown one floats down ahead of me and I breathe in deep, tucking my hands into my fuzzy coat pockets.
I'm having one of those perfect moments. One where everything just feels right. There’s no reason for it.
No explanation. Just a small perfect pocket of peace.
The doors to The Den are covered in window markers, cheering on the Linden Creek hockey team.
I recognize Savannah’s fancy script and the extra attention to detail she put on the number thirty-three.
I stand a second longer than necessary with my hand on the door, taking in all the numbers, until I find the number sixteen.
My lips twist as I try to hide an overly giddy grin.
My hand is still on the brass handle when someone pushes the door open from the inside.
I stagger back a step, opening my mouth, ready to apologize when Nathan’s eyes find mine, smiling like he’s genuinely happy to see me. And for the first time in as far back as I can remember…I don’t have the same reaction.
“Hey you. What are you doing here?” He takes a step closer, causing me to take another step away from the door.
“I just finished my interview for the TA position,” I say with an over-animated tilt of my head.
“Nice.”
Nice. Yes, the interview for the job I’ve been talking about for the last year of my life is nice.
I’m not surprised by his response. If anything, it’s kind of predictable.
Nathan doesn’t think twice about anyone or anything besides himself.
When I look at him now, and realize that I’m not disappointed by his lack of interest in my future, I count that as both growth and a win.
“Yeah. Nice.” I force a smile before nodding to the door behind him. “Well, I’m going to go get some coffee, but I’ll see you around.”
“Wait.” He grabs a hold of my shoulder, effectively stopping me, and moves to stand in between me and the door again. His eyes trail down the top half of my body and his mouth quirks in a way I’ve seen him do to other girls, but never to me. “I like your jacket. You look like a cute little bear.”
I look down at the fuzzy brown coat that I’ve come to love over the years, but my insides begin to churn as the memories catch up to me.
I bought this jacket one year while Christmas shopping with Nathan.
I used the excuse that I needed to get gifts for my family, but really, I just wanted to spend time with him.
I had tried the jacket on for fun, but when he said it looked good on me, I threw away all my Christmas spending money and bought it.
“Nathan…”
“Haven’t you missed me?” he interrupts. “It’s been so long.”
I wait. I wait for the melting feeling that happens every time he sweet-talks his way back into my life. I wait for my guard to crumble and the need to tell him, ‘I’m right here’ to take over. I wait for something more from him.
But none of it comes.
“Are you still dating Hall?” He’s let go of my arm, but he’s close enough now that only a few inches separate us.
“Yes.”
He huffs a laugh, but there’s nothing friendly about it. I still when he leans in, lowering his voice so that even if we weren’t alone, his words would still feel like they were only meant for me. “What if I told you, I’ve been thinking about you?”
My jaw clenches, and an anger so violent it makes my eyes prick with unshed tears consumes me.
I’ve been here for this man for years. I’ve been here, fighting for him to see me and to choose me.
Now that he thinks I’m unobtainable, he wants me.
But he doesn’t even want me. It’s like I’m some sick game to him.
He’s never had to claim me because he’s always known that when he’s done fucking around, I would be here. Because I’ve always been here.
“I would say that it’s too late.” I tilt my chin when my voice comes out just as sure as I feel.
“Come on,” he whines with the same lopsided grin that’s gotten me to cave to him every time before. The only difference now, though…is me.
“Chlo!” a voice warm as honey calls to me. All the air fills my lungs again, and I stand just a little taller when Maverick comes to stand beside me, dropping a kiss to the top of my head.
Butterflies flutter throughout my stomach and his words from a few nights ago ring in my ears. “And the next time I kiss your lips, I don’t want you blaming anything other than your own fucking desire.”
Nathan backs up, tilting his chin in some form of a hello, and he doesn’t even have the decency to look ashamed of himself.
“Hall.”
“Quant.”
Nathan’s thin lips form a tight line as he nods and takes a step back.
He tucks his hands into his pockets, turning on his heel, and I relax into the warmth of the man beside me.
Nathan takes one step, but then turns back around, and all of his attention is now on me.
There's something deeply unsettling about it, and it’s now that I understand in the last three years, he’s never actually looked me in the eyes until right now.
“Oh, and Chloe, I wouldn’t worry too much about how your interview went,” he says. “I’m sure you did great. You were always so eager to please when you were—”
Maverick fists clench, and he takes a step forward, every muscle in his body coiled tight. “You better think real fucking hard about the next words that leave your mouth,” he seethes.
He peeks over Maverick’s shoulder, getting one last glance at me, and I cross my arms, looking away, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing the way his words rattled me before he walks away.
“Hey.” Maverick positions himself in front of me; his hands cup my cheeks, and he gently guides my face up. “Look at me.” His voice is pleading but gentle.
“I’m fine,” I say too quickly, turning away from the door.
“You don’t have to be.” His hand falls into mine, and his eyes stay assessing me until I nod once. We fall into step beside each other and head toward the parking lot.
In a way, Nathan is the physical manifestation of everything I’ve been fighting in my life.
Nathan has been the one thing I put my heart and mind into and failed.
He’s the one thing I wanted and never got.
But now, I’m wondering how much of myself actually wanted him. To be with Nathan would be to settle.
Academically, I’ve been going after things because I’m too afraid to put my all into writing, because it’s the one thing I’m afraid to fail at. If I continue to do things just because I have a no-fail attitude but it's stuff I don’t give a shit about, then aren’t I technically settling?
Maverick’s house is oddly quiet, but I don’t question it. I know I’m supposed to be the girl who has it all figured out, and even when I don’t, I can pretend like I do, but I couldn’t put on a brave face right now for the life of me.
A part of me wants to be furious with Nathan.
It’s always been in my nature to replay every single word he’s said.
To hold on to in times of doubt, when it felt like we might never happen.
‘If I was ready to be with someone, you know it would be you.’ Now, when I should be clinging to his disgusting jabs, and using them to fuel my anger, they don’t stick.
Instead, all I can focus on is the embarrassment burrowing in the pit of my stomach as I stand unmoving in Maverick’s kitchen.
I stare blankly at the counter, my hands hanging limply at my sides, and somewhere in the background, I hear the sound of the fridge opening and closing.
I press my tongue to the roof of my mouth, biting back the burn in my eyes when Maverick’s hand finds the small of my back, and he guides me to his room.
The lights are off the same way they were only a few nights ago, but without being pinned against his door under his unwavering gaze, I can take in the rest of the room.
It’s spotless. His dark brown wooden dresser matches the desk beside it where everything is meticulously placed.
A beige futon rests along the far wall by a door that leads to the backyard.
And the exposed brick opposite of his bed ties the room together.
I shuck off my coat, not wanting any reminders of Nathan near me right now, and Maverick guides me to the edge of his bed, handing me a water bottle.
The olive green bedding takes me by surprise when I sink into it, not expecting it to be so plush.
It feels like how I imagine those display beds at luxury furniture stores would feel.
I twist the cap on the bottle, just to have something to do with my hands, but I close it immediately and set it down on the floor beside my feet.
I want to fold over, hiding my face in my hands but I remain upright, going over all the ways that I endlessly gave myself to someone who never once reached back.
I was so blinded by the idea of loving him, and everyone else could see it, but me.
There was never a doubt in my mind that patience would turn into commitment, and only now that I feel lower than dirt, can I look back and see it so clearly.
That’s the part that hurts the most. Not the fact that Nathan didn’t choose me, but that I kept choosing him despite it.
As if he can hear my thoughts, Maverick speaks up in the quiet room. “You know, you could have him now—if you wanted.”