He had to get the rest of the words out so she wouldn’t cry.
Only happy tears, little rose.
“I can’t give up that part of myself, Chloe. That part of me doesn’t go away because I love you. He’s bisexual too and we…”
She blinked and one lone tear trailed down her cheek. “I should be enough.”
…want to love you together.
“Please don’t cry. I love you.”
“You don’t. If you did I’d be enough.”
You’re more than enough—you’re what I wished for. Please, let me get all the words out.
“Chloe, you’re—”
But before he could say another word she dove off the float into the water and swam to the dock. Jesse tugged on the rope to bring the party float back to the dock and made it up the steps right behind her.
He reached for her hand and stopped her from running away from him. “Chloe. Don’t. Wait.”
She wouldn’t turn around to look at him. “I deserve…” Her wet hand slipped out of his grip. “…more.”
She walked away.
“And that’s what I want to give you.”
More.
But he didn’t get the chance to tell her all the words in his heart. Maybe they weren’t enough anyway.
It was a long ride back to the city.
Chloe leaned her head against the glass and vacantly stared out the passenger side window. She was so tired. She spent the night facing the wall, silently sobbing. Every time Jesse made a move to comfort her, she distanced herself from him further—as far as the bed they shared would allow—until she was so close to the edge she feared she’d tumble off. Eventually, he stopped trying.
Eventually the ache in her chest would stop too, right?
She was so incredibly sad. What made it infinitely worse was that for about thirty minutes last night she’d been so incredibly happy.
I’m so in love with you.
Chloe scoffed to herself and felt the burn behind her eyelids build once again. Jesse reached across the console for her hand. She pulled it away.
Yeah, babe, I love you—just not only you.
She thought she was going to be sick and lowered her head between her knees.
“Chloe?”
She tried to even out her breathing, hoping the nausea would relent, but it wasn’t working. “Pull over.”
“Babe, what’s wrong?”
“Just pull the fuck over.”
Jesse swerved onto the shoulder of the highway, gravel crunching beneath the tires. Chloe reached for the door handle and jumped out before he even put the gear into park. She stumbled onto the grass beyond the shoulder, held onto the trunk of a tree, and heaved. Then she sobbed and heaved some more.
A hand was on her shoulder. Another held her hair out of the way. Jesse. His crumpled features made him look almost as miserable as she felt. “Are you okay, babe?”
Chloe wanted to scream at him. Instead, she walked back to the Rover without saying a word. There was nothing she wanted to say. She was empty.
Brendan waited at the back of the Rover with a bottle of water and a towel he wet with melted ice from the cooler. “Here you go, sweetheart. Why don’t you lie down in the back the rest of the way? I’ll sit up front with your man.”
Yeah. Mine and who else’s?
Until then she hadn’t even given thought to who ‘him’ was. This nameless, faceless person with a penis—it was Brittany McCall all over again, but with a dick this time. Chloe curled up in the middle row and closed her eyes. Someone covered her with a blanket. As the Rover pulled out onto the highway she thought if her broken heart healed after Danny Damiani, it could do it again. Except she wasn’t seventeen. There was no poster hanging on her bedroom wall to cry to. And her heart didn’t feel simply broken. It was shattered.
When she opened her eyes again, she sat up and was surprised to see the greystone where she lived roll into view through the window. Jesse parked behind Brendan’s silver Corvette in front her building. While they unloaded Brendan’s gear from the back, she grabbed her bag off the third-row seat behind her.
She almost made it to the front door. “Chloe?”
Jesse was coming up the walkway. The late-afternoon sun glinted in his hair that billowed behind him as he chased after her. His brows were drawn together and he looked lost. Sad. Confused. Those were her feelings—he didn’t have the right to have them too. He did this to them. Not her. He could go home to his Brittany with a dick. She just wanted to go upstairs and cry alone.
He went to take her bag from her at the door. “I’ll take it up, babe.”
Chloe pressed her lips together and vowed to herself she wouldn’t shed one more tear in front of him. With her eyes cast down she subtly shook her head. “I’ve got it, Jesse.”
“Babe, we have to talk. Please.” He reached over and touched her hair. He was always doing that, like it soothed him somehow.
“You’ve said too much already.” She choked back a sob.
“No, baby, not nearly enough.” Jesse pulled her against his chest and held his lips to her forehead. “I love you.”
He sounded so broken.
Chloe was on the verge, but she would not allow herself to cry. Not yet. She went up on her tiptoes and softly kissed his cheek, then she turned and went through the door, closing it behind her.
She trudged up the three flights of stairs and did not cry. She unlocked the door to her apartment and did not cry. She set her bag down on a chair and did not cry. Then she went to the kitchen to get a bottle of water out of the fridge. Two coffee cups sat on the counter. Two. Then she looked around her apartment and saw him, and felt him, and smelled him everywhere. And she never felt more alone.
Chloe backed into the wall and as she slid to the floor, she wailed. She sobbed and sniveled and rocked on the kitchen floor, hugging her knees. One word repeated over and over in her head.
Why?
She felt a presence, like she was no longer alone. Sniffling with stuttering breaths, Chloe lifted her head from her knees to find Brendan crouched in front of her. She startled.
“Shh.” He reached forward to brush away the hair that clung to her tearstained face.
“How did you get in here?” She hiccupped. “Where’s Jesse?”
“He took off after you left him at the door. He looked pretty upset.” Brendan took her hand and helped her up from the floor. He led her over to the pink velvet sofa and they sat down. “You shouldn’t leave your door wide open. Never know who might come inside.”
“I thought I—”
“It’s locked now.” He smirked. “You and I are going to have a nice little chat, Chloe.”
That voice. It was deep and smooth and seductive—not that he was trying to be. It was just the way he spoke, but he could probably charm the panties off a nun with it. If she weren’t so in love with his cousin, and if she weren’t so afraid of the battering ram he had hidden in his pants, he could probably seduce her too.
She put some distance between them on the sofa. “What do you want, Brendan?”
“I didn’t come up here to fuck.” He tugged on her arm to pull her back over to him and wiped the mascara-stained tears beneath her eyes with his thumbs. “Though that beautiful-mess look does get my dick hard. What happened? Why did Jesse leave like that?”