Off Limits: Playboys of New York Series

by Low, JA

  She’s right, I must admit. “Go! Hook up with one of the strippers.” Pointing to a couple of them who are dancing around the room. I give her a shove. “The blond keeps eyeing you,” I say while wiggling my eyebrows.

  She glances over, and sure enough he’s looking again, so I decide to wave him over.

  “What are you doing?” Stella hisses.

  “Getting you laid.”

  “Evening, ladies… I’m Dan,” the blond man introduces himself.

  “I’m Chloe, and this is Stella.” He gives her a bright, white smile. “Excuse me, my phone’s ringing.” Waving it in the air, it’s not a lie, it’s actually buzzing, but Stella still scowls at me. I give her a kiss on the cheek and skip away, happy with my matchmaking skills.

  Moving through the crowd, I head up to the second level to check my phone in peace. There are numerous texts from friends wishing me a happy birthday, but one makes me take a pause. It’s from an old friend in LA, one of the WAGS from the Walker’s team. Haven’t really spoken to many of them since leaving him. I knew they would have to take sides, and seeing as their partners work with Walker, they would have to be on his. I get it. It sucks, though, as some of the ladies I was really close with at the time.

  Bethany: Happy Birthday, Chloe. I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch. You know how close Scott and Walker are.

  Chloe: It’s okay, I totally understand. Thanks for the birthday wishes.

  Bethany: I just wanted to check in on you to see how you are doing about the news? I can’t believe how vengeful those two are.

  I have no idea what she’s talking about.

  Chloe: I blocked the two of them ages ago, so I haven’t seen anything.

  Bethany: Shit. I’m sorry to be the one to tell you. But I wanted you to have a heads up in case the media bombard you over it.

  My heart’s racing, what is going on? My phone buzzes, so I look down and see a series of screenshots Bethany has sent through from their account announcing their engagement. I stare at the time stamp, and it’s today. There’s a photograph of their two hands joined with the small one of their sons together. The giant rock glistening on her finger is twice the size of the one he gave me.

  The caption reads…

  She said yes.

  Today is a special day as it’s the day we first met all those years ago. I knew it the moment I met you, Tracey, that you were the one for me. We are already a family with our little bear, but now we can make it official.

  #blessed #familylife #shesaidyes #bestdayever

  What the actual fuck? Years ago, I introduced them at my birthday party. Did they have feelings for each other then? We had only been dating for a couple of months. Fuck. I’m such a fool.

  I sit on the edge of my bed and stare at the photograph, memories swirl around in my mind as I try to dissect each one of them, looking for clues of their betrayal. Tears slowly fall down my cheeks at the realization I will never know the truth about Tracey and Walker and the full extent of their affair. By the sound of this post, it’s been going on for a lot longer than I thought.

  My phone buzzes again.

  Bethany: Sorry to give you this news on your birthday.

  Chloe: No. Thank you. You’re right, some low life paparazzo would have surprised me with it, and that would have been worse.

  Bethany: I know we used to be close, and again, I’m so sorry that I put our relationship with Walker before yours. Scott has had enough of his antics. The whole team has. Tracey brings out the worst in him.

  Chloe: You have nothing to be sorry about. Breakups are hard for friends too. The team always comes first. I get it.

  Bethany: There’s a group of us coming to New York soon. We really would love to catch up again. We all miss you.

  This puts a smile on my face ‘cause I miss those girls too.

  Chloe: That sounds like fun. I miss you all too.

  Bethany: That’s settled. I’ll let you know the dates. I hope you’re having a great night outside of this. Happy birthday, CJ.

  Chloe: Thanks. I’m having a fantastic night. I’m not going to let those two try and ruin it for me either.

  My hands are shaking as I place my phone on the comforter. I honestly can’t believe they would be so vindictive as to announce their engagement on my birthday. It’s not like they didn’t have any idea what that date represents. I can’t believe they both hate me this much.

  The tears slowly roll down my cheeks while I’m feeling a mixture of anger, disbelief, and hurt over their actions. I wish them both well because as far as I’m concerned, they both deserve each other. I’m sure Tracey feels like she’s the queen of the world right about now—she got the man, the money, the life that she always aspired to. She probably thinks she’s the woman who’s tamed Walker Randoff. But she’s wrong. Walker cares about himself and himself only. He will always be number one in his eyes. You’re only welcome to stay as long as you obey his rules.

  Staring out my bedroom window over the rooftops of the city and out to the many lights that make up New York City, I’m so thankful that I’m out from under Walker’s spell. That the life I was persuaded into wanting isn’t the life I’m now living. I lost myself being with Walker, and I don’t think I would have realized how much if he hadn’t fucked-up. He would have eventually fucked-up because that’s what he does, but it would have been so much worse. We would have been married, possibly had kids, who knows.

  A tiny shiver falls across my skin thinking about that life which could have been. I may be thirty and single, but all my choices are on my terms. I don’t have to answer to anyone. I don’t have to fit into someone else’s ideal. I can be myself. I feel liberated. Free even. Walker and Tracey announcing their engagement has put the past to bed for me even if it took me some tears to get here.

  Have I already become more mature?

  Chloe Jones is walking into a new chapter of her life, and her thirties are going to be spectacular.

  With that internal pep talk over and done with, I square my shoulders and strut back to my party.

  * * *

  The party’s wound down, and most of the guests have left. I have no idea where my girls are, they have either hooked up or crashed in one of the bedrooms. I’ve had one too many cocktails, and the sugar has me wide awake and jittery.

  Grabbing a pint of cookie dough ice cream from my fridge, I head out to the back garden. Plopping into one of the outdoor chairs, I take a deep breath and listen to the melody of horns and sirens that is New York.

  This wasn’t at all how I thought I would be ending my birthday—drunk, in my pajamas, eating a pint of ice cream. It screams Bridget Jones, not Chloe Jones.

  I envisioned hot, dirty sexy to start the decade of my dirty thirties. The only thing dirty is the ice cream stain on my t-shirt.

  What happened to viva le birthday, carpe diem, and all that jazz? You decided to play it safe. That little voice can be an annoying cow sometimes.

  I’m not playing it safe at all, I simply didn’t get any chances or offers.

  What about that kiss? Yes, brain, I haven’t forgotten about the kiss. But what am I supposed to do about it?

  My eyes land on Noah’s townhouse. A faint glow emanates from his bedroom window. Yes, I know it’s creepy that I know which window is his bedroom. That’s beside the point. He’s awake. I’m awake.

  Maybe we should finish what we started earlier? But he’s your boss. Rolling my eyes at that stupid voice again. But it’s my birthday, and he started it by kissing me.

  I mentally stick my tongue out at myself. Glad to see not all of me has grown up.

  This is why my friends shouldn’t leave me alone while drunk because crazy ideas pop into my head, and there’s no one around to tell me it’s a stupid idea.

  It is a stupid idea. You don’t count, tiny voice.

  Jumping up from my chair, I rush back into the kitchen, throwing the ice cream into the freezer because I’m not wasting that. With quick steps, I rush to my bedro
om and grab the sluttiest dress I own.

  But while I stand here staring at my wardrobe, I realize I’m not as slutty as I think I am because I’m pulling out handfuls of clothes which are all way too conservative. There has to be something in here. Anything.

  What about lingerie?

  Pulling out the drawers, underwear flies around everywhere, but nothing sexy is in there either. No wonder I haven’t been laid in months, I’ve been dressing like a nun.

  Then I remember Emma had a second dress option for me to wear tonight—it’s behind the door. Yanking it nearly off its hinges, the gorgeously slutty red dress appears. I swiftly get changed, throw my nest of a hair up into a high ponytail, double-check my makeup, spritz myself, and grab a pair of the highest heels I own then cautiously make my way through the house hoping to not get busted by any leftover guests.

  I make my way to the front door without getting caught and close it softly behind me. Then reality hits me as I look out on the street, which is doused in late-night darkness. The stench of garbage floats around, the shuffle of a homeless person passing by, the singing voices of a group of very happy people leaving a bar.

  A taxi’s horn pulls me from my thoughts—his place is only twenty steps.

  Turning my head, looking at my destination, I think, You can do this, Chloe. Remember viva le birthday.

  With that sentiment, I quickly yet cautiously rush down my front stairs. I don’t want to trip down them and land in goodness knows what’s on the sidewalk.

  Anxiously, I look around trying to be inconspicuous yet totally standing out like a freak. Slowly, I walk up his front stairs and notice his brass doorbell is right there glistening under the street lights.

  Do it, Chloe.

  Press the bell.

  Before I wimp out, I press the bell. The sound echoes through the townhouse, and I want to bolt. Let Noah think it’s a couple of kids pranking him.

  This is so freaking stupid. What the hell am I thinking?

  Stupid cocktail.

  Stupid viva le birthday.

  This is the stupidest thing you’ve ever done, Chloe.

  Like are you just going to proposition him on his doorstep?

  What happens if he’s not alone?

  Oh shit! I didn’t think of that.

  I didn’t think the reason he left my party was because he had a date with someone else planned. Fucking hell, that makes sense.

  Abort, Chloe.

  Abort.

  Turning on my heels, I decide to head back home.

  “Chloe?” His voice rumbles through me.

  Dammit. Cursing fate, I blink a few times and turn back around. I’m stunned by what’s standing in front of me. Looking like a delectable messy feast with his light brown hair perfectly disheveled. My eyes move further south over his muscular body. The well-defined stomach, the deep-set ‘V’ of his hips. Shit, he must be with someone because why would he be answering the door in his boxer briefs and have messy hair if he hasn’t spent the night in bed with someone.

  Damn! I’m an idiot.

  “What are you doing here?” His tone is curt and cold.

  Think, Chloe, think. “I don’t actually know. I must be sleepwalking. Carry on.” My heart’s thundering in my chest, my cheeks are on fire. I need to get out of here before I die of embarrassment. Turning on my heels, I hastily make my retreat. Of course, Fate decides to pay attention and my stupid heel gets caught in a hole on the last step making my body become one with the sidewalk.

  Fuck. My body jars from the effect of flesh hitting cement.

  “Shit, Chloe.” Noah rushes down after me. “Are you okay?”

  My dignity has scurried off into the gutter beside me. I try and pull myself together, but I stumble from the pain. Fuck me dead!

  “You’re hurt.” Noah wraps his arm around my body, helping me get up off the sidewalk. I hate to think how many germs I’ve contracted from that little incident.

  “I’m fine. Really.” Trying to push him away from me, I add, “I shouldn’t have bothered you. Go back to your guest, Noah.”

  “What are you talking about?” He’s giving me a strange look, but I take no notice because the pain is what I am dealing with right now.

  Fuck. My knees hurt like a bitch.

  “This…” waving my hand in front of me, “… you’re in your underwear.”

  Like hello.

  “I was in bed.”

  “I know, Noah. You don’t have to point it out.”

  The fucking dick.

  “Alone. Chloe,” he tells me

  “Oh….” Feeling less embarrassed and more like mortified, I continue, “Well, I guess I should be going. I’ve made enough of a fool out of myself to last me a lifetime… maybe ten lifetimes actually.”

  “You’re hurt. Look.”

  Checking where he’s pointing at my knees, which are black and red from my fall, I notice a trickle of blood is sliding down my knee. I’m thankful for those extra cocktails I had at the end of the night, which have helped numb the pain a little.

  “So, I am. Okay. Well, see ya,” I state as I start to hobble away, trying to save what little respect I have left.

  “Wait.” Noah jumps in front of me. “Do you have a first-aid kit?”

  I don’t actually know. Do I? I’ll probably just pour some tequila or vodka on the wound.

  “I have one. Let me fix you up, then walk you home.”

  Maybe ten minutes ago that idea would have sounded like heaven, but now after all this humiliation, I’m pretty sure I want to go back to my bedroom, jump into my pajamas, climb in my soft bed and continue eating that pint of cookie dough ice cream until there’s nothing left. I might even lick the container clean.

  “I don’t want to be a bother,” I tell him while waving him away as I try to walk around him. Does he realize he’s standing on the sidewalk in his underwear?

  “Chloe, please.” He lightly grabs my arm, halting me. Concern and sincerity are written all over his face.

  “Fine.”

  “Good. Now come here.”

  Huh? What the heck! Noah whisks me into his arms.

  “Noah, what the—”

  “Shh… just go with it,” he tells me as I cling onto him.

  “I’m too heavy, put me down.” All these curves come with consequences like broken backs.

  “Stop it. You’re fine.” He carries me effortlessly up his front stairs and over the threshold where I’m expecting him to release me, but he still has hold of me tightly. He kicks the front door shut with his heel then proceeds to carry me down his hallway and into his kitchen where he places me on his kitchen counter.

  He starts pulling out drawers and looking in cupboards.

  I watch as he disappears from the room and comes back again moments later with his first-aid kit.

  23

  Noah

  What the hell is Chloe doing on my doorstep looking like some kind of sinful devil? I may have fantasized about her dropping in on me like this. Usually, she’d ask for a cup of brown sugar or something even weirder, and we would end up fucking on my kitchen counter. Fuck!

  As I search for the first-aid kit in the bathroom, I realize where she’s sitting. Hold it together, Stone. Walking back out into the kitchen, her knees look like they have taken a beating. I notice how flushed her cheeks are, and realize she’s probably embarrassed about the fall. I place the first-aid kit beside her and grab her a glass of water.

  “Here,” I state while handing her the glass.

  “Thanks.”

  Our fingers touch for a millisecond, but I can feel the spark shoot right through me.

  “Your knees are a mess.” Pulling up a stool and sitting between her legs, I’m trying desperately not to look up her skirt.

  “Seriously, Noah, you don’t have to fix me up.”

  “I know.” Pulling her heel off and moving her foot in between my legs, I rest it on the stool. A slight hitch escapes Chloe’s mouth when I realize where I have pla
ced her foot.

  “Maybe you should put some pants on.” She bites her bottom lip, but her eyes are definitely on my package. Letting her foot drop, I head to the laundry and grab some gray track pants then resume my position. I begin to squeeze the antiseptic cream onto the cotton ball. “Better?”

  “Much.”

  “Don’t trust yourself.” I’m teasing her as I start to clean away the dirt and grit from her knees. She hisses at the contact just about every time I touch her.

  “Pretty much.” Her comment stops me, so I look up at her. “Don’t look at me like that.” Chloe grins. “There’s a reason I headed over here at this time of the night.”

  “What was that?” Desperately trying not to get my hopes up, I distract myself with cleaning her knees to which she hisses again.

  “I thought maybe we could continue where we left off after our kiss.”

  Looking up at her, I can see the vulnerability in her eyes. “Did you?”

  She nods. “But I could be wrong.” Her confidence is waning as she continues speaking.

  “I wouldn’t mind finishing that kiss, too.” I give her a wink, and a comfortable silence falls between us as I continue with her knees. “Did you really think I would have someone here with me after kissing you at your party?”

  Chloe shrugs her shoulders.

  “Seriously?”

  Chloe nods, and I feel hurt by her answer.

  “I’d never do that to you.”

  Chloe doesn’t say anything, so I work in silence for a while until she’s cleaned up, and I apply a few Band-Aids for good measure.

  “People are going to think you had a great birthday when you go into work on Monday.” Trying to lighten the mood, I point at her knees.

  “Guess I’ll be wearing pants then.” She gives me a crooked smile.

  “Your ass looks good in pants. Actually, your ass looks good in anything.” The words are out before I can stop them. She stills as I stand and move the first-aid items to the side. I’m stuck between her legs.