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Linnie: Slammed here. Have fun—ily!
Chloe: I will…love you back
Okay, so she’d agreed to meet Taylor ‘properly’—and who says that anyway? Taylor and Jesse were making her dinner. Together. Already she felt like the outsider. An interloper. The third wheel. But she’d changed her outfit three times already and she didn’t have time to change it again. She decided to go with classic black—an understated cotton knit sundress paired with flat t-strap sandals in nude. They matched the color of her nail polish.
She should at least be a little excited, right? Her poster boy, Taylor Kerrigan, wanted to meet her. Chloe glanced at the photo of her with Taylor and Linnea that Brendan had taken on her phone at the staff meeting. She giggled. Linnea had the photo printed and framed it for her. Her teen idol. To think that once upon a time she’d wished for this. Her sixteen-year-old self must be doing cartwheels.
But she wasn’t sixteen anymore. Taylor’s poster wasn’t hanging on her wall—it was rolled up somewhere in the back of her closet. She remembered when Jesse first told her about him, before he had an identity and he was Brittany McCall with a penis, and she wanted to cry to Taylor’s stupid poster like she had back in high school—now how fucked up was that?
Large, strong hands came to rest upon her shoulders. Warm lips kissed her neck. Chloe had been so preoccupied with herself she hadn’t heard Jesse come in. He gave her a key to his condo, so she gave him a key to her place too. “You’re beautiful, babe. Ready?”
Nope.
“Yeah, I’m starving.” Chloe smacked a kiss to his cheek, grabbed her bag, and went to the door.
Before she could turn the knob, Jesse had her in his arms. He rubbed between her shoulder blades and kissed the top of her head. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Jesse had a condo apartment in an older high-rise building about ten blocks away from Chloe’s greystone. It was a nice building, recently renovated, but not over-the-top boujee like a lot of the modern buildings were. Chloe loved his apartment—lots of exposed brick, floor-to-ceiling glass windows with fantastic views of Jesse’s ocean and the downtown skyline.
The elevator brought them to the twentieth floor much too quickly. For her anyway. This felt awkward and there was no similar social situation to draw upon for the scenario she was about to walk into. There wasn’t a guidebook on meeting your boyfriend’s boyfriend or your future second boyfriend. Co-boyfriend? Yeah. Awkward. Kind of like a blind date, except she wasn’t exactly going in blind, was she?
Jesse, on the other hand, was all bouncy, happy, and excited. Like a kid on Christmas morning who couldn’t wait to show you the shiny new toy he got from Santa. Or in this case, his mocha caramel cake.
He unlocked the door and with his hand on the small of her back Jesse ushered Chloe inside like she’d never been there before. And she had—plenty of times. She had her very own key, didn’t she? Something was happening in the kitchen. The aroma of fresh garlic hung in the air.
Guess we’re having Italian.
“Jess?”
And there it was. His cool, distinguished voice. That British accent that made girls melt into goo and Americans sound…just plain American.
“Yeah, babe.”
Babe? The fuck?
It occurred to her then that this could be more difficult than she thought. If Jesse ever called her babe again she might punch him, but if she was losing her shit over a cheap term of endearment how in the hell was she going to get through dinner? Smiling sweetly, Chloe handed Jesse her bag. “Could you take this, babe? I need to, um, use the restroom.” She went into the powder room off the small foyer and shut the door before he could say a word.
Chloe just needed a minute and a few deep breaths, then she’d be good to go. She stared at her reflection in the mirror. She looked like herself, but she felt like a hot mess. Why was she being so childish? Jesse called everybody babe. She washed the sweat off her hands and left the bathroom.
Jesse’s apartment had a modern open layout that took advantage of the fantastic floor-to-ceiling views. There was a large living area with leather sofas, overstuffed upholstered chairs, and floor pillows centered around a huge flat-screen television mounted over a gas fireplace. A hallway off the foyer took you to the master suite. The guest suite and dining area were tucked away behind the kitchen that was open to the living area.
They were in the kitchen. She couldn’t make out what they were saying, but she could hear their voices and easy laughter from where she stood in the foyer. With a deep cleansing breath, Chloe stepped into the room.
They didn’t notice her standing there. Not yet anyway. Their backs were to her as they worked in tandem to finish preparing dinner. She quietly observed the small glances they gave each other. Smiles. A hand on a forearm. Familiar touches. They had a history. She didn’t belong here.
Should she announce her presence or sneak out the door and go home? Taylor’s hand landed on Jesse’s denim-clad ass in a smack. Jesse looked at Taylor with that sexy smirk Chloe knew all too well and kissed him. Just a brief peck on the lips, but it was enough. No, she didn’t belong here.
“Ah, Jess, here’s our cherry cake.”
Well, sneaking out the door is no longer an option.
“Coconut,” Chloe deadpanned and rolled her eyes.
Taylor stood there in the same stance, wearing that same bad-boy smirk, as the poster that once adorned her bedroom wall. Messy black waves brushed past his broad shoulders. His tattooed arms were crossed over his chest. He wore a black wife-beater that showed off his biceps, and sweats. She stopped herself from looking any lower, thankful at least his sweatpants weren’t gray. They were black. Chloe glanced down at her black tank sundress.
Great. We look like fucking twinsies.
