Chapter 35 #2
My chest sank. “I’ll be back in California by then,” I said, trying to disguise the thickness in my voice. “But you and Morgan should come visit. We could do a road trip up the coast.”
Jack looked caught off guard for a moment, but then he smiled and said maybe they would, and I found myself genuinely hoping they’d take me up on the offer.
After dinner, a delicious four-course masterpiece Phil had apparently spent days on, it was time for presents. Amy turned to me as Chloe gathered her gifts in front of her like a greedy child. It was adorable.
“You know, I’m the reason you’re here,” Amy said. Phil cleared his throat from the kitchen, where he was still clearing up. “Sorry,” she amended, “we are the reason.”
“How’s that?”
“Last year, we were the ones to get her the mead-making course for her birthday.”
“Oh, yeah!” Chloe chimed in from the end of the table. “That’s true! So you can blame them for any damage I’ve done.”
But I didn’t blame them. I was truly grateful. “Thank you,” I said as earnestly as I could. Amy’s face softened from teasing to appreciative, and I knew she could sense how much I meant it.
Chloe looked over at me like she thought I was joking at first, looking for the snide undertone that wasn’t there, then smiled gently when she realised I was being sincere.
The gifts were lovely. Jack and Morgan had found a cute mushroom-shaped headphone stand for her gaming headset, and Fatima gave her a new journal with glitter gel pens.
Amy and Phil joked that I was their present, and I tried to hold back the way that made my stomach leap inside me, wishing she could keep me.
That I could keep her. I caught Chloe’s gaze, and I knew she could see just how intensely I felt.
Thankfully they gave her an actual present, disrupting the tension: a beautiful, intricately carved wooden box, apparently just the right size for a tarot deck.
When it was my turn, I felt suddenly nervous. I hadn’t put my gift on the table – the wrapping was part of it, and I hadn’t wanted to spoil it. So I pulled it out of my backpack and passed it over.
“This is from me and Willow,” I said, my fingers grazing against Chloe’s as I handed it off.
Chloe looked down at the little parcel, her mouth falling open.
She ran her fingers over the worn heather-grey of the T?shirt, tracing the N of North Dakota and the hole in the neckline.
The shirt of mine that she’d worn that day in the rain.
The first time I’d known for sure that there was something real between us.
She swallowed hard.
“Thank you,” she said, her voice low and gravelly. “I love it.”
I smiled. “That’s not all of it. It’s part of it, but it’s really just the wrapping.”
Chloe’s brow furrowed as she tugged at the string holding the T-shirt in place, then unrolled it carefully. A brown hessian bag fell out onto the table, clattering as it made contact. Chloe looked up at me, joy all over her face.
“Oh, I know that sound,” Amy said. “Dice!”
I suppressed my smile and just nodded. Chloe picked up the bag and opened it, pouring the contents out into her hand.
“Oh my god,” she gasped as she admired the single die, holding it between her fingers. It was made of polished wood, sealed with resin, with golden numbers on each surface. She turned the D20 over in her hand, noticing the heart where the twenty should be.
“Where did you get this?” Amy asked, rolling the die on the table. It made an incredibly satisfying clatter, and Amy sucked in a breath of air. I sat up a bit straighter as it landed with the heart face-up.
“I made it,” I said sheepishly. “Out of an old ageing barrel at the meadery.”
It had taken me days of whittling and sanding, not to mention ensuring the quirk I’d built in actually worked, but I’d gotten there in the end.
Chloe’s gaze shot up to meet mine. “You’re shitting me. You made this?”
I laughed. “I’m no woodworking pro. But don’t worry, it’s coated in resin, so it shouldn’t need any maintenance or protection or anything.”
“It’s incredible,” Chloe said quietly, not looking away from me, and I could see in the downturn of her eyes, in the way she seemed to hover in her seat, that she wanted to come to me.
To hug me, maybe – or more. And honestly, part of me wanted her to.
But that wasn’t why I’d given her the present.
Why I’d endured multiple frustrations getting each straight edge just right.
No, the smile that spread across her face as she looked down on it had been why. And I’d whittle a thousand more if it meant bringing her that kind of joy. Making her feel that loved and important.
“Well,” Fatima said, puncturing the moment, “the real question is, is it balanced?”
Chloe rolled the die again, and yet again the heart glinted up at her.
“’Fraid not,” I said as the others laughed, but Chloe wasn’t laughing with them. She was holding my gaze. “I wouldn’t even know where to begin balancing it.”
I’d very intentionally not balanced it, of course, and no matter how many times Chloe rolled it, it should always come up a critical success.
That was the whole point. It was the best I could give her – the best way I could think of to make sure she felt the force of my belief in her once I was gone.
From the look on her face, she understood.
* * *
After dinner, I got up to use the toilet, and I was both unsurprised and thrilled when I heard the swish of Chloe’s skirt behind me in the hallway.
“After you,” I said, stepping aside and pressing back against the staircase as if to let her use the toilet first. “I can wait.”
She rolled her eyes and stood across from me, her back against the opposite wall. She stood on her toes so our eyes were more level.
“You didn’t have to do that,” she said, nodding back toward the dining room. “It’s too much.”
“It’s really not,” I said, my voice soft. “You deserve everything you want, you know that?”
Chloe’s faux-stern expression melted. “You, too,” she said.
“Happy birthday, Chloe.”
“Thank you for coming.” Her voice was low, full of meaning.
“I wouldn’t have missed it. Not for anything.”
We stood there, facing one another, holding eye contact for a long time. I would miss this, standing off against Chloe, both literally and figuratively. She challenged me and pushed me and saw me better than I would have imagined anyone would. And I didn’t want to leave her.
I raised my arm and reached out to her across the hall, cupping her cheek with my palm, running my thumb along the ridge of her cheekbone. She sighed and leaned into it, nuzzling into my hand.
“Teddy,” she moaned, which sent jolts all through me. “This isn’t a good idea.”
“Isn’t it?” I asked. “Remind me why not.”
She looked up at me, a hint of mischief in her gaze now, as if she knew something I didn’t.
But she didn’t answer me. We both knew what our situation was, after all.
And I’d prepared for this. I had known she’d say it wasn’t a good idea.
But I knew now that she wasn’t rejecting me.
She was trying to protect both of us. So while I wouldn’t do anything more unless she said it was okay, I also wouldn’t stand down unless she made it clear she didn’t want me.
“God, I want to kiss you so badly right now,” she said, biting at her lip. It made me clench hard inside, but I kept my cool.
“Then do it,” I whispered.
She shook her head into my hand. “Not a good idea,” she said again, as if reminding herself.
I looked into her eyes and tried to communicate to her that it was okay – that letting herself be kissed on her birthday wouldn’t make it any worse, even if it wouldn’t make it better, either – not in the long run, anyway. It could make it better right now, and that counted for something, too.
Clearly, she got the message. Because as I pushed forward off the wall only a fraction of an inch, she came the rest of the way, crashing into me.
The kiss was messy, frantic, all teeth and tongues and hands desperate for purchase.
I tangled my fingers in her hair, pulling her head back to kiss her more deeply, eliciting a moan that I felt reverberate through my whole body.
She pressed me back against the banister, fingers digging into my ribcage, and I lost track of everything except the heat of her mouth and the taste of mead on her tongue.
Chloe moved away and grabbed my hand, presumably to take me upstairs, but I pulled her instead and redirected her into the bathroom. Once inside, I locked the door and turned to face her, chest heaving.
“I don’t want to do this if you’re just going to leave,” she said, voice trembling.
I put both hands on her face; held her steady. “We’ve been through this, Chloe. I don’t have a choice. But I’m here now, and I want you. And I think you want me, too.”
She stared at me for a long second, then nodded – a tiny, jerking motion.
“Okay,” she said. “Yes. I do.”
And then I was kissing her again, softer this time, my hands skimming down her body until they found the lacing of that ridiculous yellow corset.
I started to unlace her slowly. Her hands were everywhere – tangling in my hair, tugging at the hem of my shirt, dragging me closer until our bodies were flush.
When I finally worked the corset loose, I pushed it off her shoulders and let it drop to the tiled floor.
Underneath, she wore the same thin, black lace bralette she’d worn to the wedding, already damp with sweat and anticipation.
I buried my face in her chest, nuzzling and kissing the swell of her breasts.
She gasped and arched into me as I brought my mouth to her nipple, sucking it through the fabric, then pulled the lace aside and took her bare into my mouth, flicking my tongue until she moaned.
My hands slipped lower, tugging her jeans down just enough to expose the line of her underwear.
Matching again, and this time I suspected it hadn’t been an accident.