Chloe crossed her arms. "Well?"
I looked away, trying to find the words. "Yeah. Well, she was there." How in the hell did I explain it? Shit. Who was I kidding? The more I talked, the deeper I'd be digging. Lamely, I mumbled, "I don't really want to get into it."
By now, Chloe was staring up at me like I was some kind of animal – not the warm and fuzzy kind, the kind that ate babies for breakfast.
Earned or not, I didn't like it.
I reminded myself that Chloe wasn't the only one with questions. My own head pounded with them. Who had Chloe been talking to? And when? Last night? Or today?
I could see Brittney showing up on Chloe's doorstep, telling her all kinds of stories. And let's face it. A lot of those stories would be true.
Anger – at me, at Brittney, at that whole fucking party – made my voice come out too hard and too loud. "There. You happy now?"
Her voice was a monotone. "Thrilled."
Pushing down the anger, I reached for her hand. "Chloe–"
She yanked her hand away. "Well, that's really special. So here, you sleep with another girl – no, make that two other girls – what, an hour before I show up? And then, you get all hot and heavy with me like I was the first girl you'd seen in forever?" She shook her head. "It's messed up, you know that?" Her voice rose. "Nice people don't do that."
I felt my jaw tighten. "Yeah, well, haven't you heard? I'm not a nice person."
She looked down at the sidewalk and mumbled, "I don't believe that."
It was a lie. She did believe it. That much was obvious. I made myself shrug. "If you say so."
On the sidewalk, Chucky lunged forward, straining against his leash. I held on tight, wanting to resolve this here and now. But Chloe obviously had other ideas. With a heavy sigh, she started moving forward, trudging along the sidewalk with her head down and her arms loose at her sides.
Together, we walked in silence. I wanted to say something, but I didn't know what.
There were a million things I could tell her. Most of them, she wouldn't want to hear. For some messed up reason, I thought of Brittney's butterfly tattoo.
My thoughts strayed to last night. Next to me on the bed, Amber was on her hands and knees, showing me her ass. "Look," she said, wriggling it in my face, "I've got a matching butterfly."
Permanent? Or temporary?
Who knew? Who cared?
She'd been wearing a thong, so it wasn't like I'd seen everything she had to offer. I mean, she hadn't been fully naked. I could mention that to Chloe, see if that made a difference.
I shook my head. No. That was just another landmine, waiting to explode.
Last night, Brittney and Amber had been going for some sort of sister act – twins. Every guy's fantasy, right? Once, I'd had triplets. I mean, they weren't real triplets, but there were three of them, so...
Shit.
None of that mattered. Not now. Next to me, Chloe was slipping through my fingers. We'd circled around past my place and were getting dangerously close to hers. I was running out of time. If I didn't say something now, I might never have the chance.
I stopped in my tracks. Beside me, Chloe stopped, too. I turned to face her. Slowly, to avoid startling her, I reached my free hand toward hers.
I held my breath. This time, she didn't yank it away. Finally, my fingers closed gently around hers. Her hands felt small and soft, and I felt myself swallow as I tried to find the words.
"Listen," I said. "The Brittney thing. Yeah, I see why you're mad. It's messed up. I know that. But she and I, yeah, and Amber too, we see it for what it is."
"Which is?" she asked.
"Nothing."
"No," she said. "Tell me."
I shook my head. "No, I mean literally. It's nothing."
She gave me a doubtful look. "Is that supposed to make me feel better?"
My voice was softer now. "They aren't you, Chloe." I looked into her eyes, trying to make her understand. "If I'd had any idea you were coming over, any at all, I'd have made everyone leave. Shit, I did make everyone leave. The only person I wanted there was you. Don't you get that?"
Her gaze softened. I let out a breath, hoping, waiting. And yeah, maybe praying a little, too.
But then, she drew back, pulling her hand out of mine. "I don't know what to think. Is that how you operate? Just go from girl to girl, doing whatever with them until the next one shows up?"
Yes. It was like that.
Until her.
Still, she wasn't being fair. All this time, through all the walks, through all my questions – still unanswered, by the way – she'd given me no sign she was even interested, or even available.
I was a lot of things, but not a cheater. I mean, how could I cheat if there was no one to cheat on? I had to make her see that. Through gritted teeth, I said, "I didn't know you were showing up."
She made a sound of frustration. "But even if I hadn't –" She shook her head, not bothering to finish.
"Alright," I said, trying to keep my voice level, "take Brittney. You think I'm using her? Is that it?"
"A little," she muttered.
"Fine, I'm not gonna argue. But let me ask you something. How about Brittney? You think she's using me?"
She glanced away. "You mean, like for sex?"
I made a scoffing sound, thinking of Brittney and the countless girls just like her. "You think it's just about sex?"
In front of me, Chloe gave something like a shrug.
I opened my arms to encompass the neighborhood that surrounded us. I heard the disgust in my own voice as I said, "For this, to hang out here, to be seen with someone who's supposedly famous. To go to the hottest clubs and get inside without a wait. To get her ass kissed by people who don't know any better, and to feel good about herself for nothing more than taking off her clothes."
Even to me, it was an ugly picture.
From the look on Chloe's face, she thought so, too. "I don't want to hear this," she said.
Too bad. As much as I cared for her, she didn't get to back away now. I gave her a long look. "But you asked, so you're gonna."
Chapter 37
On the sidewalk, Chloe stiffened. Okay, she didn't like what I was saying. I got that. But just because she'd been living a sheltered life, it didn't I had. I was a realist. Unlike her, I had to be.
But for whatever messed up reason, I was pretty sure I loved her. I had to make her understand. "With girls like Brittney," I said, "it's never just sex, but that doesn't mean it's anything good."
"Yeah, well," she mumbled, "I guess it's none of my business."
"Yes. It is." I leaned closer. "Because I want to make it your business."
Near our feet, Chucky whined, straining at the leash to keep moving.
Sorry, Chucky. Not this time.
Besides, there was nowhere to go. Whether Chloe had noticed or not, we were back in front of her own house. Pressing my luck, I reached out and once again, took her hand. "And I want to tell you something. Fame, even as minor as mine, isn't all it's cracked up to be."
She gave me a look filled with doubt.
I tried again. "People meet me, and they think they've got something to prove. Half the world kisses my ass, and the other half wants to take me down a peg, prove they're tough or whatever."
I shook my head. "You know, a couple weeks ago, two guys jumped me outside this restaurant? Right here in Rochester Hills? Un-fucking-believable."
Chloe glanced away, but said nothing.
Damn it. That's right. The fight had been at her restaurant, where she worked. She'd been watching, standing in the pickup bed with that guy. All this time, she'd never mentioned it – just like she'd never mentioned her job. Or who she lived with. Or that fact that she might think of me as more than a friend.
For whatever reason, Chloe was full of secrets. And from the look on her face, she wasn't going to share them any time soon. I could lead her along by telling her that I'd seen her that night. Or I could be smart and keep
my mouth shut.
I hadn't always been smart. But I wasn't going to mess this up, not now. So I kept quiet, letting her respond – or not. If I were lucky, maybe she'd tell me something useful, like why she was waitressing in the first place.
I glanced around. It couldn't be for the money, not if she lived in a place like this. For some reason, I thought of Brittney. Was Brittney right? Was Chloe just another rich girl, working for kicks? Or was there more to the story, something I wasn't seeing?
Finally Chloe spoke. "Why'd they do that?" Her tone was casual, maybe too casual. "You mean just for the fun of it?"
And there it was. Another landmine. Those guys had jumped me because of Brittney and Amber, a.k.a. the two naked girls from my bedroom. Chloe would just love to hear that.
"Bad example," I said. "Those guys, I actually knew. But most of the time, it's just some dumb-ass thinking to get a rep by taking mine down. I used to actually fight those idiots, beat 'em within an inch of their lives just so they'd leave me the fuck alone. But they never did. They just kept coming back for more. The whole thing got to be such a nuisance that I stopped doing it."
Her brow furrowed. "What do you mean stopped doing it?"
"If someone wants to fight me," I explained, "I just let 'em fight. Hit 'em when they come close, but mostly, just let them run themselves out. If it weren't so pathetic, it'd be fuckin' hilarious."
Her voice was quiet. "You swear a lot."
Embarrassment shot through me. "Oh shit." Chloe was right. I did, at least by the standards of this place. And now, I'd just done it again. If my Grandma were here, she'd skin me alive. But she was dead, just like half the kids I'd grown up with.
"Sorry," I said. "I guess I'm kind of worked up." And I knew why. Chloe was slipping away. I couldn't let that happen. I tried, and failed, to keep my voice level. "I don't want to lose you."
She gave her head a small shake. "What?" Her voice softened. "But you never had me."
"I know." My voice softened, too. "And that's the problem."
She stared up at me, and her eyes filled with emotions that I couldn't make out. I held my breath, hoping that some of what I saw wasn't hatred or disgust. All I needed was a chance. Somehow, I'd make it work.
After a long moment, she spoke. "What about Bishop?"
The question caught me off guard. "What about him?"
"Is he there to stay?" Her chin lifted. "Or just passing through?"
I kept my tone neutral. "Why do you ask?"
"Just curious."
I couldn’t step around it, and I couldn’t lie. "No."
"No, what?"
"No," I said. "He's not just passing through."
Her shoulders slumped. "Oh."
"He doesn't live with me," I continued, "but when he's in town –" I shrugged, not knowing what else to say.
Her hand, still in mine, grew stiff. "I see."
"Does it matter?" I asked.
She glanced away. "No."
It was a lie. She hated him. I got that. But he was my brother. And I wasn't going to kick him to the curb just because he and Chloe hadn't hit it off. There was still time. Or at least, I hoped like hell there was.
"Look," I said, "yeah, Bishop can be a dick sometimes. Come to think of it, he's been a dick for five, six years now. Long story. But you don’t know him like I do. If you did, you'd like him. Hard as that is to believe."
From the look on her face, she didn't believe it. But she didn't say so. All she said was, "We're getting off track. You never answered my question."
There was a question? "Which one?" I asked.
"Why didn't you invite me to your party?" She gave me a pleading look. "And I want the truth, even if you think it's something I don't want to hear."
The truth? It was messed up, just like everything else. The party had been Amber's idea, not mine. My friends were loud and crude, even when they were sober. Then, there were the girls – Amber, Brittney, and more. Finally, there was Chloe. She was too good, too sweet, too civilized for that kind of scene.
Still, I had wanted her there, and not only for the party. I'd have kept her close, watched out for her, made sure she was okay. And if anyone tried to mess with her – well, they wouldn't. I'd make sure of it.
In front of me, Chloe was still waiting for my answer.
When it came down to it, the truth boiled down to one simple fact. "Alright," I said. "I figured you'd bring someone."
Her brow wrinkled. "What?"
"Yeah." I thought of the douchebag, or maybe some other guy. At the thought of Chloe with him, whoever he was, my muscles tensed, and my voice hardened. "And I didn't want to see it. I still don't want to see it."
"Someone?" she said, pulling her hand from mine. "Like a date?"
"Date, boyfriend, whatever."
She stared up at me. "I don't have a boyfriend. And the only person I've been dating is, well –" She shrugged. "No one. Not really."
I studied her face. "Uh-huh."
She drew back. "Are you calling me a liar?"
Was I? Maybe. "I don't know what I'm calling you." I looked away. "You know what? Just forget it."
"Forget it?" she said. "Is that what you want?"
"Yeah." I turned back to her. "That's why I'm hanging outside your place like some kind of idiot."
She gave a confused shake of her head. "I don't get it. Until last night, I thought we were just friends. I didn't realize you even thought of me that way."
I made a scoffing sound. "You're kidding, right?"
She looked down. "I don't know."
"Do you know how many times, walking with you, I've wanted to reach out and touch you? Wanted to see you look at me the way I feel like looking at you?" I leaned closer. "So yeah, I could've invited you to the party, but then, I'd have wondered who you'd show up with. Because I knew if you brought him –" I shook my head. "It wouldn't end good."
Her face softened. When she spoke, her voice was very quiet. "For the last time, there is no him."
I wanted to believe that. "Then who do you live with?"
She glanced away, but said nothing.
I felt my jaw tighten. "Some guy?"
"I don’t live with anyone. Not really."
Not really? What the hell did that mean? "Is he out of town or something?"
She grew suddenly still, and I felt the muscles in my neck bunch into knots. So the guy was out of town? Was it the douchebag? It had to be. Who was that guy, anyway? If he was fucking her –. I felt my breath catch as I envisioned them together.
I wanted to kill him. "I'm waiting," I said.
From the sidewalk, I shot a quick glance at her house. It looked nice and proper, the kind of place where civilized people lived. I wasn't civilized, and I was getting less civilized by the minute.
Chloe was glaring at me now. Her voice rose. "You know, I don't appreciate the interrogation."
Said the girl who told me nothing. "Yeah," I muttered. "That's about what I expected."
She glanced toward her house. "I'd better get back inside."
"Yeah," I said. "You do that."
She thrust her hand, palm up, toward Chucky's leash. If she wanted it, fine. I handed it over and watched as she turned and stalked back to her house, taking her little dog with her.
Silently, I watched them go.
Before ducking into the house, the dog looked back.
Chloe didn't.
Yeah, that's about what I figured.
Chapter 38
Like an ass, I spent the next couple of days hanging around my house. I watched her when she walked by. I missed her when she didn't. I saw her in my dreams and wanted her when I was awake.
Sometimes, I imagined her with him, whoever the guy was.
He wasn't good for her. I knew it in her eyes, by that touch of fear and the crease of worry at the edges. I started to wonder about that thing with the fence. Was she running to something? Or from something?
Maybe it hadn't been just something with the
dog. Maybe the guy had been giving her a hard time. Maybe he'd scared her off with threats or worse. Maybe, when I'd helped her open that door, I'd been returning her to him.
I mean, it's not like I went inside or anything.
In my mind's eye, I saw blood on her floor and bits of broken glass. Sometimes, I saw Chloe, lying there in the middle. Yeah, it was a nice neighborhood. A nice house, too. But in spite of my earlier thoughts, I did realize that sometimes, bad things happened in good places.
On the third day, I started watching her house – looking for her, looking for him, looking for any sign of trouble. I haunted my own property and stalked past hers. The winds of November had picked up, making it cold as hell just to step outside.
I didn't care. I never did. But Chloe might. What if she got locked out again? She might freeze. Or worse.
I wouldn't let that happen.
Monday morning, on my second pass along the sidewalk, I saw something that made me stop in my tracks. It was a broken window – not on the house, but on her car. I strode forward, heading down her driveway. When I reached the car, I looked inside.
On the passenger's side floor, I saw stray bits of broken glass, not a lot, but enough. The way it looked, someone had tried to clean up the mess. But the evidence was still there.
It was cold outside, but my blood was boiling. Whatever had happened, this wasn't an accident. I'd seen this before, too many times to count. Not here. But in my old neighborhood, where car break-ins were a regular thing and not only at night.
But this was Chloe's car.
Had someone tried to hurt her? In my dark thoughts, I saw her, huddling in the driver's seat, calling for help. No one came. Not even me.
Fuck.
I heard a door slam and looked up to see Chloe coming down her front steps. Watching, I let out a long, unsteady breath. She was okay.
At least, she looked okay. She wore a black skirt and matching blazer. No coat. In this weather? Why not? When she spotted me, she frowned.
Too bad. I wasn't going anywhere until I knew more. As she moved toward me, I tried to keep my voice level. "What happened?"
She was walking fast, with her head up, trying to act like it was no big deal. But it was a big deal. I could see it on her face and hear it in her voice when she said, "As if you don't know."
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