Love, Chloe (42 page)

“But … they’re beautiful.” And they were. Some of her best. They took my breath away every time I walked in his apartment.

“Not as beautiful as you.” He pulled me closer. “We can sell them. Put the money down and buy a place.”

“But what if…”
we break up
. That was what I was going to say. He’d never be able to afford to buy them back.

“We’re not.” His touch had been gentle when he’d lifted my chin, and I closed my eyes to his kiss. Relaxed in his arms and let him work his cell phone out of my hand.

I boxed up the books and then moved to the stack of loose papers, thumbing through receipts, a cable bill, and then, my first résumé. I looked it over, the pathetically sad page that I had brought to Nicole’s interview. Thank God she’d never asked for it. I carried it to my laptop and stuck it underneath, updating it another to-do item I needed to knock out next week. Monday, I was going to empty out my savings and pay off my tuition bill. It’d leave me with nothing, but Carter had insisted on it. He didn’t want me to get another dead-end job just because I didn’t have a degree. So, with a diploma finally in hand, and an updated résumé, I’d hit the employment search again. It wouldn’t be easy; New York was hell on the unemployed. But at least I had a place to stay. And a deposit that would be returned to me, if Carter deemed the apartment to be in suitable condition. Maybe a bribe was in order, one of the sexual variety. It couldn’t hurt, right? I could wait until he was working in the engine room, all sweaty and hot, then tempt him with some ice water. Get him up to our apartment and then strip him naked.

I lost track of my plans when the door to my apartment opened. Turning around, I stared at Carter. “What are you doing?” I glanced at the clock. “You should have left by—”

“I canceled.”

“What? When?”

“Just now. It’s pointless, meeting with her.” He stepped forward, tossing his jacket on my couch, his hand pulling at the knot on his tie. I loved when he was dressed up. Loved the look of him with neat hair that begged to be violated. A stiff shirt that hugged his muscles perfectly. Dress pants that clung to that fine ass.

I pulled my eyes from said pants. “Pointless? How can it be—”

“I don’t care if they approve of you.” He got the tie loose and yanked it off. Stopped before me and pulled at the bottom of my sweatshirt, his fingers snagging my T-shirt too, pulling both of them over my head. He grabbed at the front of my sweatpants, his hands dipping inside and around my waist, big palms settling on and squeezing my ass, yanking me hard against him as he kissed me. “I love you,” he said, pulling off my mouth and pushing me down on the couch, rolling my sweatpants down the length of my legs. “That’s the only thing that matters. We’ll figure the rest out.” He stood above me, my heart beating hard, and I watched as he removed his belt, pulled his dress shirt over his head, and then his pants unzipped and everything I loved was before me, naked. Then on top of me, hard.

After that … I lost track of thought.

“What do you think?”

Carter chewed the edge of his lip and examined a stain on the ceiling. “I think it’s a shithole.”

“Yeah,” I agreed happily. “It is.” I walked to the window and pushed aside the cheap shade. “But look at that view.”

“Trevor thinks this is a good investment?” He met me at the window. “It seems a little … small for him.”

I almost laughed. Small would be a nice word to describe the two-bedroom to my boss, a man who bought city blocks and not rundown apartments. A boss who had taken pity and given my skinny resume a chance. A boss who seemed thrilled at the real estate opportunities I had found him so far. “I haven’t approached him about it.” I turned to Carter. “I found it for you.”

“There’s no
me
anymore.” He turned to me. “Us.”

I rolled my eyes but didn’t hide the smile. “Okay fine.
Us
.”

His last Presa Little had sold at auction three weeks earlier. I wasn’t trying to dig into his business, but I could use a calculator. My poor boyfriend had enough for a down payment on this, plus a chunk left over to remodel it. Especially since he could do the majority of the remodel himself.

He leaned against a wall and crossed his arms, looking at me. “What would you suggest? To flip it?”

“You want my expert opinion?”

He laughed. “Yes.”

“I’d keep it. Renovate it and rent it out. It’ll more than cover itself.”

“Would you want to live here?”

I scrunched up my face. “Not really.” Not that the place wouldn’t be nice, but our apartment—there was just so much love in those walls. I felt like we had history there. I loved it despite it being owned by his parents, who had cut all ties with him, save for business calls about his job. I don’t know if they were mad because of my parent’s actions, or mad because he chose to date me despite that, or—and I think this is really it—they didn’t like him choosing me over them. Carter stepped toward me and I refocused on him.

“Okay.” He lifted his chin. “Make an offer on it.”

“Really?” I clenched my notebook and did a mini jump for joy.

He chuckled, pulling me to him. “You’ve looked at property every day for four months, and this is the first one you’ve ever brought me to. I think that’s a good sign.”

“It
is
a good sign,” I promised him. “It just had a big assessment and they’re redoing the school around the—”

“Chloe.” He shut me up with just the word, tugging on the ends of my hair and looking down at me.

“Yes?” I looked up at the man I loved and almost swooned.

“Stop talking and let me kiss my wife.”

“Your what?” I pushed against his chest, but then his lips were on me, and they were my weakness, soft and strong, my mouth opening for him, our kiss deepening.

When he pulled off, I tried to speak, tried to understand. Surely he wouldn’t propose
here
, not in this filthy condo in Tribeca. Proposals were supposed to be done in grand fashion, with candlelight and music.

But then he dropped to one knee and looked up at me, holding my hand, love pouring from those eyes. And in that moment, I wouldn’t have had it any other way.

“Chloe Madison, will you marry me?” he whispered.

I didn’t hesitate, didn’t need to think it over; the question one I had dreamed of for months. “Yes!” I shouted, his arms wrapping around me. He laughed against my mouth and pulled back.

“I don’t have the ring with me,” he admitted. “I wasn’t … it wasn’t supposed to happen like this.” He kissed my forehead. “I’m sorry.”

I pulled his mouth down to mine. “Don’t ever be sorry. It was perfect.”

And it had been. A little unorthodox. Not what I had always envisioned. But this entire life wasn’t how I had envisioned it.

It was so much better.

<<<<>>>>

I had seen girls like Chloe before. That’s what I thought, that first time I saw her. She was like a baby doe, skittering on her feet, legs and arms spread out for balance in that New Year’s Eve snow. My first instinct had been to protect her, to scoop her into my arms and carry her inside. But I’d known girls like that my whole life, and they didn’t want protecting—at least not from men like me.

My first mistake was judging her—just because she wore expensive clothes and stepped from a private car, a purse dog in hand. When she smiled at me, I saw every girl from my upbringing—the girls my mother warned me away from, the ones that only saw Prince Charming if he wore the right watch, in the right zip code, with a big portfolio and an intent to spoil. I was afraid of her because of it. Afraid because, in the wobble of her smile, I saw something else. Something that drew me in and wouldn’t let go. A hint of a girl who needed saving, and not financially. A hint of a girl who I wouldn’t be able to walk away from.

She stuck in my mind, like a dream you couldn’t shake, each memory fainter than the last. I should have gotten her last name. Her number. Anything.

And then she opened that apartment door and was there.

I’m not gonna tell you the leap my heart took. Or the way I had to tighten my hand against the doorframe because I thought I might fall. But I will tell you that the fear returned. She was different from my memories. Her hard edges softer. Her eyes kinder. The stiffness she had given me that New Year’s Eve night … it was gone. And I almost wanted it back. I needed the reminder of why she wasn’t good for me, of why we wouldn’t work, of why, in this huge city, I needed to find a simple girl—one who would fall in love with me, and not my trust fund. And Chloe wasn’t that type of girl. She was the type who’d look at me and wouldn’t want to dive any deeper. Except … she did. And from the beginning she shook my foundation. She scared me.

And later, she broke me. She found the weak places in me and slipped in, her tiny hands cradling my heart and making it her own. Such a tentative touch, yet one forever imprinted on my heart. Protection is the smallest thing I want to do for her. I want to protect, but also provide. I want to build her a home, and make babies with her, and to open her eyes to everything she hasn’t seen. I want to watch the rest of her journey—to see her in a job she truly loves, in a life she truly wants, and I want to give it all to her but I know she has to find it on her own. And that is the hardest, and the most beautiful part.

There is nothing left in me to save. With every imperfection in her I find, I fall farther. Every twist of her head, giggle from her mouth, and shriek of her orgasm … I am more vulnerable. When she found out about my family’s money, she was disappointed. When she told me about her parents, she was embarrassed. When she struggled with Nicole’s infidelity, she was flawed. And when she spoke of Vic, she was human. And when she looks at me, she is complete. There aren’t enough words to express how that makes me feel.

I can’t live without this woman. She is my best friend. She is the second half of my heart. She is the blood that pumps through my veins.

She is my everything.

She is my future.

She is my Chloe.

She is my Love.