20. Chloe
TWENTY
CHLOE
NOW
Aimee lives at the southeast corner of San Diego, which is across town from where we’re staying in downtown, so we opt to take a rideshare over there.
I’m squished in the back seat, next to Anni in the middle and Reid on the other side.
Tyler is sitting in the front passenger seat, and I see him looking at us through the rearview mirror, smirking.
“What are you smiling at, Hastings?” Annika barks. Tyler starts laughing.
“You guys look so silly, all smooshed together in the back, like the weirdest trio,” he says. Annika deadpans while Reid and I giggle. I start to squirm, and Reid mimics me.
“Okay, stop! You guys are suffocating me!” Annika proclaims. Lucky for her, we have just arrived at Aimee’s apartment building.
We file out of the car, and follow Annika to the entrance.
“All right, we’ll go through the main door and turn left at the first hallway,” she says, holding out her phone and reading the directions that Aimee gave her. “Her apartment is at the end,” she continues, leading the way through the propped-open main building door.
“Sheesh, this place is huge. Aimee lives here alone?” Reid asks.
“No, she has two roommates—her coworker and Annika’s archenemy, Carly,” I say, sneering at Annika, who rolls her eyes.
“Archenemy?” Tyler asks, looking at Anni, then back at me.
“She’s being dramatic. I just don’t enjoy being around Carly. She’s got a bit of an ego complex.”
“Can’t wait to meet her!” he says sarcastically.
“Get in here!” reads the sign taped on the door to Aimee’s apartment. I feel the thrum of music and the roar of people inside. We open the door to a sea of costumed partygoers.
“Holy shit, how many people did she invite?” I ask, but I’m not sure if my friends can hear me.
Once inside, we snake through the small foyer.
The building looks brand new and Aimee’s apartment reflects that.
Clean white walls and a long hallway that leads to a kitchen and a main open area at the end.
Aimee and her roommates have decorated the space with cobwebs, old movie posters and fake smoke crawling along the floor.
A pile of coats litters the corner next to the door.
People dressed as anything from witches to celebrity references to skeletons are scattered everywhere.
Packed in the hallway, pouring in and out of each room.
I look around to see if I know anyone here, and I recognize a lot of people from college.
I’m surprised this many people stuck around.
What would it be like if Annika and I stayed here and decided to make friends?
But then I remember we did and tried, but it didn’t stick. It didn’t feel right.
I try to look around to see if I can spot Aimee, but don’t see her anywhere.
I suddenly worry I’m going to start seeing other people I recognize.
A specific person I dated on and off for six years—and the guys I hooked up with during the off.
All while the guy I can’t get out of my mind is hovering to my back.
I can feel the anxious heat crawling up my neck.
I find myself taking a step closer to my friends.
As if Tyler can read my signals, he gently places his hand on my shoulder, squeezing gently, then letting go.
I’m immediately put at ease and the place he’s touched radiates a calming warmth through me.
Annika and Reid try to shout over the music, but we can’t hear them.
Reid gestures that they are going toward the kitchen.
Tyler and I give them a thumbs up and decide to make our way to the main room at the end of the hall.
We snake through zombies and vampires. A Frankenstein is hooking up with a cheerleader against a wall and a girl dressed in a fairy costume is crying into another fairy’s shoulder.
Tyler steps forward, and I panic and grab his arm.
He turns back to me, leans in, and asks, “What’s up?”
“I … uh? It's nothing, really. I’m fine,” I say unconvincingly.
“Let’s go dance over here.” He nods toward a portion of the large living space that looks like a dining area, but the furniture has been pushed around and rearranged so people can bob and sway into each other.
He leads us into the clump of people dressed in a variety of costumes dancing and lets go of my hand.
I grab Tyler’s biceps in response, and he returns his hands to my upper back.
I feel like I’m using him as a human shield, ducking my head into his space.
As if he truly is a superhero, here to save me from my past that is creeping in.
It’s like he emits a safety sphere and the closer I get to it, the more relaxed I am.
I feel like I can bat away the skeletons crawling towards my feet.
His arms feel solid under my touch. An upbeat pop song is playing loudly and aggressively through a portable speaker, and Tyler starts moving us around to dance as my eyes dart around the room.
“Eyes on me, Chloe,” he commands into my ear.
His warm breath tickles my neck, and he gently nuzzles his nose into the side of my neck.
He pulls back, and I lock my eyes with his.
His eyes are more than just shades of brown.
They are warmth. They are a pair of slippers and a steamy drink on a fall day.
They are a hot bath and a good book. They are a burst of sunshine on a frigid day, heating your skin. They are safety and trust. They see me.
Easily, he’s the most beautiful person in this room, perhaps in all of San Diego—or in all of the world.
The corner of his mouth curls up, and he snakes his fingers down my arms to grab my hands and starts to jump up and down to the beat of the song.
I break into a big smile, holding his eye contact, and join him.
We clasp our hands together tighter, bouncing and swaying wildly.
He spins me in a circle, and my laugh cracks through the room.
I can feel other people looking at us, but none of them matter—only me and my Superman.
The upbeat song transitions into a slower melody, allowing us to ease out of our high-energy dancing.
I collapse onto his chest and lean onto him, snaking my arms around his back.
His arms cradle my body. I nuzzle my face up to his neck and he leans down to me, kissing the side of my head.
Pushing up his shirts, I graze my nails along his back, letting my hands roam his warm body as I make my way up to his front.
Tyler responds by pulling my body closer to his, trailing his fingers along the slice of skin exposed above my skirt.
I slide my palms along his chest, feeling his strong body and clasping my hands behind his neck.
Tyler breathes heavily against my hair and dips the tips of his fingers under the top of my waistband.
We are both consumed with one another. Our heads touching, lips inches apart.
I close my eyes and lean into his body more as his hands slide down my skirt to grab my ass, trying to get me as close as possible.
People around start bumping into us as the song changes again to a booming hip-hop track, but Tyler and I stay in our position, lost in the feeling.
I lift my head, my lips just grazing his, feeling the brick wall I’ve built crumble down around me.
Our lips collide and the world disappears.
It’s just me and him. His lips are soft yet eager.
I feel like I can’t get enough of his taste.
I swipe my tongue against his bottom lip and he opens his mouth for me.
His hands cup my ass and lift me higher and I wrap my legs around his torso.
This position is more comfortable as we continue kissing passionately in the middle of the makeshift dance floor.
“Chloe!” A voice calls from behind me. “Chloe!”
I still against Tyler as a reflex. My lips separate from his, and I wince. I know the voice before I turn around.
I angle my head to the side, Tyler’s arms firmly around my body, as if he’s my force field from danger. As if he’s my protector.
“Chloe?” Dane asks when I meet his gaze.
Reluctantly, I release my hands from Tyler, who loosens his grip and gently lowers me to the ground, leaving one hand on my hip. Dane stands before me. He looks the same: blond-haired, tan surfer bro. Except his aloof expression is swapped with one of anger.
“Hey, nice to meet you, I—” Tyler says, reaching his hand out to him.
“I don’t give a shit who you are. Get your hands off my girlfriend,” Dane cuts him off, and I can feel Tyler’s body go rigid behind me, his left hand squeezing my hip once but not letting go.
“Dane,” I say, leveling him with my gaze. “You do not get to call me that anymore. We’ve been over for almost a year now. Can you leave me alone?”
“I need to talk to you.”
“Go ahead. Talk.”
“Alone.”
“Anything you have to say, you can say in front of Tyler.”
Dane’s lips pucker. “Fine. As long as you don’t mind me telling him and everyone here all the places we fucked around campus. Or, we can go out to the balcony and talk, in private.”
My throat feels sour. The feelings of the last few years with Dane are bubbling up.
I should have broken up with him when he forgot to show up to my art show freshman year.
I shouldn’t have taken him back after the first break in our relationship two years in.
But I gave him a chance. I kept giving him chances because I didn’t think anyone else would give me a chance.
I didn’t want to let go of what I thought was love.
It wasn’t love. At least not the love I need.
The body warming my back is the love I need—the man with the hot-cocoa eyes.
“Only for a few minutes. Then I don’t want to see or talk to you ever again,” I say, and I see his face softening. I turn to Tyler and say, “If I’m not back in five minutes, come get me.”
“Chloe,” he starts, then looks over at Dane. He leans down to my ear so only I can hear him. “I don’t want to leave you alone.”
I angle my head to his ear. “I’ll be okay. Let me finish this,” I say, giving him a quick peck on the cheek before pulling away.