Distracted. He still won’t say her name.
“Football has taught me teamwork, brotherhood, and discipline. I was a good football player when I started, and now, I’m getting news stories. I’ve earned a starting position. I don’t need you to be proud of me but it should make you realize how hard I’ve worked for this and recognize that I have that same determination and drive that I’ll be applying as the CEO.”
Grandad leans back in his chair, his attention moving to Dad.
“What about her?” Dad asks.
I scoff. “If you met Chloe, you wouldn’t be asking me this question. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for her. She told me to come. I wasn’t going to come with you.”
He blinks too fast, revealing his shock.
“Chloe,” I say her name again. “Her name is Chloe. And she’s bloody brilliant and motivated and has more drive in her little finger than half of our general managers. She isn’t a threat to me or the business. She’s the promise I’m going to continue to improve and grow and work harder every day because I want to work to be the man she deserves.”
Dad stares at me, and I wonder if he has any idea what I’m saying, if mum ever inspired him in the same ways that Chloe inspires me. If it’s possible he ever felt even a fraction of what I do for her. I don’t think so, considering I know I will go to the grave and whatever is beyond loving Chloe. It’s not the kind of love that fizzles or wanes. Instead, over the past two years, it has grown and become a force that refused to allow me to try and ignore it any longer, so great it can’t be contained solely in my heart, but in my soul and my brain, and every cell of my body. It reflects in my thoughts and decisions, and I know it will continue to guide me.
“You realize what this job will do to a relationship, right? What it did to your mother and me? You’re going to be living out of a suitcase for long periods of the year, missing birthdays and date nights. You won’t know the names of your neighbors or be there when she has a bad day.”
Grandad clears his throat, regret etched across his aging face. “I want to tell you he’s wrong,” he says, looking sorrowful.
“I don’t have all the answers. Not yet, not now, but I do know that my love for her will make me a better leader.”
“Go,” Grandad says, waving a hand. “You should go. Take these years. Try and figure it out.”
I cut my gaze to Dad, who appears lost in memories. “Don’t tell me I didn’t warn you.”
Anger surges in my chest, barely holding on to the reminder that his approval doesn’t matter at all when it comes to Chloe.
“I’ll keep you both apprised on San Francisco and can help you choose a new management company to replace Avery.”
“Focus on your education,” Grandad says. “Change is scary but necessary for us to remain the leading luxury resort, and the only way for us to do that is to learn and grow.”
“I’ll set some appointments up with you,” Dad counters.
I nod, and without another word, I take my bags to the front door where a car awaits.
32
Chloe
“Reality kind of sucks with having to wash our own laundry,” Nessie says, folding a pair of jeans from one of the two laundry baskets filled with clean clothes between us.
I chuckle. “I thought for sure you were going to say it was the beds you missed most.”
“That too.” She leans toward the small end table beside her and grabs the coffee we’d walked to pick up while we waited for our laundry to finish drying in the basement laundry room. Truth be told, I’m kind of glad to be downtown. After our trip that had us staying in areas where it was always so easy to access so much, it kind of feels like a continuation of that to be able to do and see so much here.
“Where’s Coop this morning?”
She shakes her head. “I don’t know. He said he had to go do something. I’m kind of wondering if it was to get rid of that pink bear they talked about. The one from Claire.”
I try to hide my smile, knowing how badly jealousy can sting, regardless of how innocent it is. “Did you ask him why he kept it?”
“He said it didn’t mean anything romantic. That he didn’t hold any angry feelings toward her, and it just made him think of happy memories.”
“Guys are stupid sometimes. Even Cooper, but that’s not the worst reason to keep something.”
She shakes her head. “I know. I probably have a dozen things from exes. I don’t keep them because I’m holding a torch for any of them. Some of the stuff I just like, and others…” She shrugs. “It makes me think of happy memories.”
I think of the things I collected on our trip, the dozen pens from the hotels, the shirts, a sweatshirt of Tyler’s that had been in my bag that he’d carried in San Diego. I can’t imagine parting with any of them, regardless of what happens between us.
“How are you doing?” Nessie asks, reaching for a shirt.
Before I can respond, there’s a knock on our door. “I’ve got doughnuts and can’t reach my key,” Cooper calls from the other side.
I grin, watching the smile that consumes Nessie at the sound of his voice. She jumps to her feet, tossing the shirt back to the mound of clean laundry, and unlocks the short series of deadbolts he helped install when we moved in. She freezes, her attention shifting to me, eyes wide. “Chloe, he needs your help.”
“My help?”
She nods, taking a step back, opening the door even wider. She folds her lips against her teeth and waves for me to hurry up.
“Help with what? It’s not your box of things that you forgot at all the hotels, is it? Because…” My words trail off as tears fill my eyes, my heart stuttering as Tyler steps into our apartment. I can’t talk because my throat is filled with emotion, and I can’t see him clearly because tears are spilling down my cheeks. His strong, warm hands are on either side of my jaw, kissing my cheeks and my lips as he pulls me into his arms. I’m consumed by his scent, and the strength of his chest and shoulders feels so good as I lean into him, kissing him.
“What are you doing here?” I ask. “How?”
“Well, football starts in two days, and Coach Harris is a real asshole when it comes to players being on time.”
“Damn straight, he does,” Cooper says, coming inside and closing the door. He sets a box of doughnuts down in the kitchen. “We’ll give you guys a little time.”
Nessie flashes a smile at me, and then they disappear back to her bedroom.
I shake my head, working to understand his words without hope reading too far into the situation. “What about England? What about the hotels? Your dad?”
His fingers weave into my hair, and he smiles. I don’t know if my memories and pictures didn’t do him justice or if somehow in eleven days, he’s gotten even sexier. “Chloe, truth or dare?”
“Are you serious right now?”
He laughs at my duress, waiting for me to answer him.
“Truth?”
“Okay, I dare you—”
I laugh. “I said truth.”