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Ky: Jess, what’s meant for you won’t pass by you. Remember? You got this.
They’d all heard that old Irish proverb often enough growing up. That was always the answer they got from the adults anytime he or his cousins wished for something out loud. He couldn’t tell you the last time he wished so much for anything. Football probably. But even then he wasn’t wishing as hard as he was wishing right now.
What’s meant for you won’t pass by you.
Jesse pulled out of the dark alley and drove the four short blocks to Chloe’s apartment. He knocked softly on her door. It was late—well after midnight. He hoped she wasn’t asleep yet, but he’d wake her if he had to. It was too important. He couldn’t leave without seeing her. Impatient, he knocked again. Just a little bit louder. He heard shuffling, the rattle of the chain and the turning of the lock, then she opened the door.
All at once the tropical scent of coconuts rushed at him. Her hair hung in damp loose waves. She must have just washed it. An exquisite vision in navy-blue silk. Long tanned legs. Gemstone eyes. He looked to see if anger or repulsion were reflected in them, but they sparkled in the dim light from the hallway and she smiled at him. He wasn’t too late.
“Jesse?”
He smiled back. “Hey, babe.”
“What are you doing here?” She stepped back to let him in. “I thought you were going home after you closed up.”
Tell her the truth, Nolan.
He took both of her hands in his and leaned in to kiss her cheek. “I was, but then I stopped at the park to try to catch Taylor…” He paused. “…and, umm, apologize that we didn’t make it.”
“Taylor?” Chloe kept his hand in hers and led him into her living room. “Taylor Kerrigan was expecting us?”
She was speaking fast, her voice high and squeaky with excitement, and at the same time laced with disappointment. Chloe had missed the chance to see a Venery concert in her own backyard—and her teenage idol. How would she feel when she found out what she’d truly missed?
“Yeah. We’re, uh, friends you know. Told him we’d try to make it to the concert—or catch him for a drink afterward.” He sat down on her pink sofa and she remained standing.
“You okay? You kinda look like shit,” she said. Jesse watched her eyes travel up and down his body giving him the once-over. “Want a drink or something?”
Or something. Like your thighs squeezing my head.
But he could use a drink after the night he’d had—he probably did look like shit. He was drained and he still had to have the talk with Chloe. Now wasn’t the time to be thinking about his tongue inside her delicious pussy. He knew better than to ask if she had any Glenlivet. That shit was expensive on a server’s earnings and what girl kept a good scotch on hand anyway? Most girls didn’t even like it. “Jameson?”
She bent over and kissed the top of his head. He could see her perky round breasts dangling inside the slinky silk top. Then she stood and winked at him. “I’ll bring the bottle.”
Chloe only had to cross the room to retrieve the bottle. Her apartment was basically one room that comprised the living room, dining area, and kitchen. A short hallway connected it to the door to her apartment and another short hallway led to her tiny bathroom and the single bedroom. It was oddly configured, but then her apartment was on the top floor of an old greystone. She obviously made it work for her, though. It was girly, eclectic, and cute—from the exposed brick and the pink velvet sofa, to the stacks of books and the flameless candles alight in the non-working fireplace, it screamed Chloe lives here.
She came back with the whiskey, glasses, and a bottle of sparkling water. “Here you go.”
“No Diet Coke?”
Chloe giggled. “Nah. I can’t drink caffeine this late. I’d be up all night.” She said it as if that would be a bad thing.
Any other night it would be a good thing. A very good thing.
Tonight was for talking, though. Just talking. As much as he wanted to sink himself inside her, he couldn’t. Not yet. Not until he smoothed things over with Taylor and told her everything. He couldn’t risk hurting her like that, or himself, if…well, he wasn’t going to give any thought to the if. As far as he was concerned it was all going to work out.
It was meant to.
Chloe poured for him. It was a nice gesture—he was usually the one doing the pouring. He cracked the bottle of water open for her. “C’mere.” She handed him the glass and he pulled on her hand to sit beside him.
She snuggled against him, under his arm, as if she had always been there—as if she was meant to be there. Because she was. He wished he was good at this talking thing. He wasn’t. Brendan and Kyan had that gift—they always had the words, knew just the right things to say. Dillon was the charming one with his heart of gold and charismatic smile. Jesse was the quiet one, the observer, the overthinker. He just knew the words weren’t going to come out right and he’d fuck it all up.
Her skin was so soft. His fingers trailed slowly up and down her arm. He took a sip from his glass and cleared his throat. “I want to be with you.”
Chloe turned her head under his arm and peered up at him from beneath her lashes. “You are with me, silly.”
She took him so literally that he smiled. “I know, what I’m trying to say is…you’re the only girl for me, babe. I…want us to be together…”
Jesse never got the chance to finish the sentence. Chloe was up and in his lap before he could get the next word out. But… Then her lips were on his, her fingers threaded in his hair, and the words he was fumbling with were swallowed up by her sweet mouth.
