by Scott, S. L.
Positioned over me, she latches her eyes onto mine with her palms pressed to my chest, slowly sliding down my length. But the sensation overwhelms, causing her head to fall back and her mouth to drop open. I understand because my eyes close, and I savor the feel of her riding me.
Wrapping my arms around her, I sit up while she moves to her own rhythm on top of me. She caresses my face, letting little moans escape along with breaths against my skin. I’ve learned her wants and needs. She likes eye contact at first and then a little hair tug that exposes her neck. Her desire has me craving more.
Taking me deeper, she lifts and lowers, her fingers twisting into my hair. I grab the back of her head and bring her mouth to mine, our tongues tasting the pleasure we each offer. “Joshua,” she moans on the cusp of ecstasy. I slide my hand between us and circle her clit while kissing her neck. A harsh breath is taken before her body begins to tremor with my name on her lips. “I love you.” Breathless, she falls right after.
We lie together under the covers, staring through the picturesque windows. A sheen of sweat covers us despite the weather turning blustery on the other side of the glass. “I should probably leave before somebody notices I’m gone.” Turning to look up at me, she says, “But you make it hard to leave this bed.”
“Good.” I hold her tighter, not ready for her to go. “Stay. We can nap.”
She wiggles, pushing up to rest on her elbows. “I need to shower and meet up with my mom. She should be home, and I’m helping with the final party prep.” Pointing toward the bathroom, she adds, “I got you something for tonight.”
“You got me something for your birthday? I think you’re confused with how this works,” I say through a laugh.
“Well, you barely even let me celebrate yours at all and refused to let me get you anything.”
Waggling my eyebrows, I smirk. “I got something all right, better than any present you could buy.”
“If you consider sex a present, then I’m happy to spoil you rotten. As for the one in the bathroom, I hope you like it anyway.” Under musical laughter, she smiles and then kisses me on the chest before climbing out of bed. “Knock on my door at six, and we can go to the party together.”
“Why does this suddenly sound like a bigger event than I thought?”
“You’ve met my mom. She doesn’t do anything low-key.”
She slips on her skirt and then the sweater.
“A few balloons and a cake and boom, you got yourself a party.” I start resting my eyes, but then I get the hint, sitting up abruptly. “Wait, is this a big party or like a normal get-together for your family?”
Carrying her bra and panties toward the door, she laughs. “This is a Fox party.”
I’m not sure what that means, but being around enough rich kids at Yale, I’m figuring this won’t be your average townie kegger.
24
Chloe
“Love suits you, Chloe.”
I look back at my mom as she arranges the flowers in a large vase on the kitchen island. I’m not sure how she managed to find peonies in November, but the vase is full of my favorite flower in various shades of pink. At the mention of love, I have a feeling my cheeks match the darker blooms.
“The past two months have been a whirlwind,” I admit, moving next to her, away from the caterers. It feels natural to see her working at the island, but then I remember she has a new life, the complete opposite of this one, running parallel in New York. It’s been nice to have her here for me, but I hope she’s happy. “Do you think I’m too young to be this in love?”
“Do you?” As soon as she spots me gnawing on my bottom lip, she says, “Grab a coat. Let’s take a walk on the lawn like we used to.”
After putting on our coats, we slip outside onto the veranda, and across to walk down the steps. After taking in the crisp air, she smiles at me. “I miss the smell of the ocean, but I enjoy the vibe of the city.”
“I’m glad you’ve found a place that feels like home.”
“You’re my home, Chloe.” We start walking toward the far end, and she asks, “How do you feel about the relationship?”
“I don’t regret a second I’ve spent with Joshua, but after your visit, I’ve started worrying about leaving for med school. I think he’s still unsure what he’s doing after graduation. He’d probably come to the city with me, but I know he’d never ask me to stay. He’d sacrifice us if it benefitted me.”
“That’s noble.”
“I find it heartbreaking actually.” I want to see the good in the gesture, but pain seeps in just from the thought.
“Because you’re afraid to lose him?”
I nod, not wanting to voice the thought out loud. I’m not superstitious, but I’m not willing to put that out into the universe. “But I don’t want to lose myself either.”
She says, “It sounds like you’re on even ground, trying to balance this change in your plans. Balance.” Nudging me, she smiles softly. “There’s nothing more I’d wish for you in a relationship than someone who treats you as an equal or better. It’s something I never had, so if you’re comparing our relationship to yours because of the similar ages we got together, wipe that thought away.”
“But you fell for him—”
“At seventeen. By your age, we were married. I’ve never blamed your father for my choices. I blamed him for the demise of our marriage. He told me to live life before settling down. He wanted me to experience dating and develop friendships outside of him, but I just didn’t listen. I was young and naïve.” We stop at the edge where the grass meets the beach. “You’re smarter than I am.”
“I don’t know how to navigate the dreams I have and the relationship I want. Graduation will be here before we know it, and I don’t like the unknown.”
“You never have. If you could control your whole world, you would, but that doesn’t leave much room for discovery. Or love. Or Josh.” Staring across what appears to be the entire ocean and a million memories, she adds, “He’s your first love.” Turning to me, she takes my hand. “He may not be your last, but you can’t live in fear of that. You shouldn’t question what feels right. Just experience it for what it is—wholeheartedly.”
When we both lived here, we weren’t like this. I was always studying, and my mom was . . . moving through life with no real spark in her eyes. That dark cloud has lifted since the divorce. She takes responsibility, but I also blame my dad for abandoning her and their marriage. Yes, he provided financially for us both. But my mom is vibrant, a romantic, and passionate about experiencing life to the fullest.
And because of how open she is now, she’s become someone I confide in. I know she wants what’s best for me professionally and personally, not only as my mom, but also as my friend. Continuing, she adds, “I said love looks good on you, but maybe it’s the happiness that shines in your eyes. I’ve never seen you look more beautiful than watching you become the woman that you love. Whether alone or with him, love the life you’re in.”
That does it. Now I’m officially mushy. With tears welling in my eyes, I hug her, resting my head on her shoulder. “Thank you.”
“Happy Birthday, sweetheart.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
Turning around together, we head back to the house before the cold reaches our bones. Just inside the door, I give her one more hug. “It means a lot to me to know you’re on my side.”
“Always.” Swatting me off, she says, “Better get ready. The guest of honor can’t be late to her own party.”
“I thought it was fashionable to be late to events?” I tease.
“No, just poor etiquette.” She grins, but I know deep down, she believes that. Even though she’s making a new life for herself, some things will never change. She always errs on the side of propriety.
“I’m going. I’m going.” I dash up the stairs tempted to keep going to the far end of the hall, but I also don’t want to wake him. Joshua’s going to need the energy for the long night in bed I have planned after this shin
dig.
* * *
“I’m so late,” I mumble two hours later, poking the stem of the earring into my ear. I screw the back on and add the other. Getting one last look, I touch the ends of my hair, loving how the stylist gave me old Hollywood glam soft waves on one side and pinned the other back with crystal-encrusted hair pins.
It’s a different look for me, but I only turn twenty-one once, and my mom was right. I look like a starlet on the red carpet in this dress she found for me in the city.
It’s not low cut in the front and actually hides all my cleavage, but the dress was made for a special occasion. Spaghetti straps that lead over my shoulders crisscross until the fabric resumes just above the dimples of my lower back. The fabric is flowy, and the color dreamy in a rich purple. I’m not sure how my dad is going to feel about it, but I feel amazing.
The one carat earrings in each ear add just enough sparkle not to compete with the gorgeous silver shoes covered with Swarovski crystals. The smoky eye makes the green of my eyes pop and as I run my hand over the front of my body, I’ve never felt sexier or more grown up.
A knock on the door pulls my attention from the mirror. “Chloe, are you in there?”
“Yes, coming.” I swing the door open excited to see him, but gasp when I do.
Joshua Evans is many things, including handsome, intelligent, charming, and oh so sweet to me. But holy hell, I was not expecting this. His chin is tilted down, a shy spark in his eyes as he looks at me. “Wow,” he says, running his hand down the back of his slicked back hair as his gaze sweeps over me. “You look . . .” He sounds choked up when he says, “You look gorgeous, Chloe.”
“Thank you.” Now I’m the one who feels shy, not only from the compliment, but that he looks so incredible in a suit. I kiss his delectable lips, and then adjust the knot of his tie. “You look very debonair.”
He brings me closer under his admiration. “How am I going to keep my hands off you?”
“You don’t have to. You’re my boyfriend. Perks of the job.”
Heat penetrating from his large hands can be felt through the thin silk caressing my ribs as he holds me close. “I like the perks of the job when it comes to you.” Dipping his head, he kisses my neck. “I could devour you. You look so good.”
“I’ll take you up on that offer later.”
Whipping upright, he chuckles. “You’re naughty in Newport, Miss Fox.”
“Thanks to you, I’m naughty in New Haven as well.”
“Very true.”
“Anyway, it’s my birthday. I can be dirty if I want to,” I sing-song. I grab his ass, keeping him pressed to me. My body craves him as much as my heart. He was the key to awakening me, showing me the world through new eyes. I never want to go back to life before him. “I’m also utterly in love with you, Mr. Evans.”
“Such sweet words from a sexy mouth.” We kiss, and then he whispers, “Didn’t anyone ever tell you that it’s dangerous to wear your heart on your sleeve?”
“Yes, you, but I still can’t resist you, so I’m throwing caution to the wind and choosing you anyway.”
“I like you choosing me.” Our fingers may have healed, but the connection sparks through my veins when our hands bond and our lips meet. Like our hearts, we’ve become one again.
“Are you ready?”
His elbow comes out when he moves to the doorway. “Born for it.”
You can hear the party in full swing—conversations, laughter, crystal glasses clinking—before we reach the top of the stairs. Taking our time, we stroll down, the featherlight fabric floating behind me. I stop him when he’s one step lower, still hidden from the guests, and say, “I love you, Joshua.”
I know he can hear the concern in my tone by how he’s searching my eyes for the hidden meaning. Reassurance enters his, and he says, “I love you, too, birthday girl.”
“Bigger than the sky.”
Kissing me again, he whispers, “Bigger than the universe.” My heart starts racing, but I’m not sure why. I hate being the center of attention, but it doesn’t feel like that kind of dread. Walking across the black and white marble, I feel a disconcerting sensation wind through me. “Here goes nothing.”
The room breaks into applause when they see us. I’d like to say I’m surprised that all of Newport appears to be here, but this party is standard fare for the Foxes. I find confidence on Joshua’s arm, allowing me to enjoy the moment instead of hiding from it.
He asks, “Ready for your first drink?” Sarcasm sneaks in as he winks.
“Yes, I’m so curious what this alcohol is you speak of,” I joke but manage a straight face. A waiter has impeccable timing and swoops by with two glasses of champagne. Tapping them together, Joshua says, “Happy Birthday, baby.”
“I’ll drink to that.” I take a sip and look at the pretty flowers adorning the vases around the room and the golden chandeliers dripping with crystals. “It’s so beautiful that I feel like a princess.”
“No expense has been spared.”
“Is it weird that I feel like I’ve waited my whole life for this day?”
“Be careful what you wish for. Being an adult isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.” He pokes me playfully in the ribs, making me laugh.
“It’s supposed to be rainbows and hearts, wild nights and adventure-filled days. Don’t ruin the illusion before the party’s over.” I grab his hand, and we start through the great room toward my parents. “Give me one night to believe that the rest of our lives will be filled with beautiful parties. Me in a pretty dress and you in a suit.”
“I’ll give you everything you ever dreamed of.” When I look into his eyes, I believe him. He’d do that for me. He’d do anything for me like I would for him. He tugs at his lapel. “I didn’t thank you for this.”
All the people in this room could disappear, and I would be content in this man’s arms. He’s a dream come true that I never knew I needed. Now I can’t imagine life without him. “You don’t need to.” When I start to walk again, my hand is stalled, causing me to turn back.
“I know you don’t expect me to, but I want to. Thank you.”
Despite the well-wishers vying for my attention, I return to him. “You’re welcome.” Squeezing his hand, I add, “Now stop messing with your tie, and let’s go have a good time.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“It’s sexy when you go Southern gentleman on me.” The moment the words leave my mouth, I realize how I set him up. “Don’t say a word.”
With his hands up in surrender, he replies, “I wasn’t.” But then he runs one under my hair, sending goose bumps down my spine, and laughs. “But now I will. I’m more than happy to be on you, Southern or Northern, East or West Coast-wise.”
I roll my eyes even though I won’t admit that my mind is happily remembering our time in bed earlier today. But yeah, this is neither the time nor place for those delicious memories.
Setting our glasses down on a passing tray, we reach my parents. I greet my dad with a kiss on the cheek. The ice in his glass clangs against the crystal walls, the amber liquid mostly gone. “That’s quite a dress,” he says, disapproval still managing to break through the monotone.
I look down, taken back by his blatant disregard for my feelings. Though maybe I shouldn’t be anymore. Joshua takes hold of my hand, giving me strength. I catch my breath and stand my ground. “I love this dress.”
“I think you look beautiful, Chloe,” my mom gushes, her sweet admiration barely restrained. “Happy Birthday.”
“Thank you, Mom.”
My dad finishes his drink, and then says, “You shouldn’t be encouraging her to dress scantily. She’s going to be a doctor, for Christ’s sake.”
“Dad, stop.” He not only planted the seeds of my insecurities, but he watered them daily, encouraging them to grow. God, I’m so over it. I will never win with him. “It’s my birthday. One day a year. Let me enjoy it.”
My mom waves him off and then hugs me. “Ignore Mr.
Grumpy and try to have a good time.” Coming around me, she hugs Joshua. “You look very dapper, Josh.” He returns to my side, slipping his arm around my waist while she adds, “You two make such a beautiful couple.”
Joshua says, “Thank you, Cat.”
But my dad cuts in, “Mrs. Fox.”
“Dad,” I caution, surprised by his demanding demeanor. “Joshua is a guest.”
“Respect should be given to his hosts,” he gripes.
My mom snaps, “Cool it, Norm. I asked him to call me Cat.”
Covering Joshua’s hand with mine, I hold it right where it’s pressed to my skin. The verbal tennis match between my parents is something I never want with my partner. I glance up at Joshua. His lips are tight until he sees me and then a small grin appears. His fingers caress with gentle pressure, and something tells me we’ll never be like them.
More grumblings from my dad are peppered in, and then he asks, “What’s this Cat business anyway?”
Mimicking my earlier eye roll, my mom says, “I need champagne. I can’t with you.”
“Can’t what with me?”
She turns to leave but turns back full of fire. “I swear you’re a dinosaur.” Not only is it funny, but I like her moxie. Standing up for herself is something she didn’t do when they were married. It’s a nice change.
I tug Joshua away, using their bickering as an escape. As we walk to the bar, the perfumed air reaches my nose—flowers and candles mingling through the room. Scanning the party, I see plenty of friendly faces, just not my friends.
Reading my mind, Joshua asks, “Is Ruby coming?”
“She’s stuck in Manhattan.”
Dad’s colleagues and the bluebloods of Newport aren’t my idea of a good time. “I think some of this crowd came over on the Titanic.”
I’m starting to realize this was an occasion for my dad, who insisted on the big event, to rub elbows with the rich of Rhode Island. I’ve always been the perfect daughter, an excellent student, and well-rehearsed in my role as Dr. Fox’s legacy.
Screw their expectations. It’s time for me to step out of the shadows of the famous neurosurgeon and be a woman of my own making. Today isn’t just a day to celebrate my birth, but my rebirth.
