Page 79 of Dream Girl Drama

“Yes.”

The culmination of emotion wrought by the last few hours resulted in Chloe grabbing the poor man’s arm. What did she have to lose? “Please, I’ve just sent the love of my life off to the airport with no idea that I’m breaking things off. For his own good and mine, but I feel like a ghost, you know?” The inhale that followed felt like torture. “And I just need a break. A tiny break.Please.”

The doorman hedged.

She could already hear him letting her down gently.

Thankfully, the elevator doors chose that moment to open and reveal Grace in a matching purple yoga outfit, a Stanley cup, and sunglasses that looked more like goggles.

She stopped short upon seeing Chloe. “Oh fuck. Seriously? I have the worst timing.” Her head dropped back on her shoulders. “You better not be here to return the dog.”

“What? No. Ilovehim.”

“Well. Your taste in men is highly questionable. We’ve established that.”

A defensive shriek built in Chloe’s chest, but she kept it at bay, because losing her cool wouldn’t serve anyone. Not her and not Sig. “Can we talk privately?”

“Why? I’m not changing my mind.”

Chloe wasn’t sure how much more dread she could handle in a single day. “That thing you read about...” She glanced at the doorman with a swallow, grateful when he took a hint and whistled his way out onto the sidewalk. “I’m not going to lie, there was something there, but it’s over now. It’s over. Okay?”Oh God.Saying those words out loud made her legs want to collapse. “Our parents are getting married in two months. Technically, we haven’t done anything wrong, but like I said... it’s over. And you know what? I love him. I love him and I’m giving him up so he can have hockey. So I can have the harp. And if you think I was good before, just wait until you hear me with a broken heart, okay? Because I’m going to fucking shred and you’re not going to get any credit when I waltz into that symphony and take your spot. That’s what I’ll do. Because people are going to pay money to see a child prodigy. That was always going to be true. But I want to be extraordinary. I better be fuckingextraordinaryif I’mgiving him up for this. Are you going to help me get there or not? Because I’ll play until my fingers bleed. I’ll play until they are numb. Don’t drop me, Grace. I’m here to work.”

A stony—but perhaps, reluctantly impressed—Grace regarded her for several moments. “This thing between you and him is really over?”

Don’t hesitate. Just get it out.“Yes.”

Chloe pretended not to see the layer of sympathy flit across Grace’s face, because she couldn’t handle sympathy just then or she might wallow in self-pity forever. “Fine. I was looking for a reason to skip yoga, anyway.” She sniffed, looking Chloe up and down. “I guess torturing you could pass for cardio.”

Hope ballooned in Chloe’s chest. “Definitely.”

“Let’s go. I guess the beast can come, too,” Grace said, backing into the elevator and smacking her hand on the side of the metal door to keep it open while Chloe rushed forward with grateful tears in her eyes. “Don’t expect me to console you.”

“I won’t.”

“He’s shit hot, I get it. But...”—she made a slashing motion—“there will be others.”

There wouldn’t. There would be no others like Sig. Not in a billion, trillion years.

But Chloe just smiled and nodded, beginning her life of keeping it to herself.

And hoping it wouldn’t kill her.

Chapter Twenty

Something was wrong.

The plane had landed five hours ago. They’d been transported to the hotel, eaten a team meal, and changed into business casual attire in which to arrive for the game.

During that time, Sig had called Chloe approximately fifteen times.

Without an answer.

As he sat in the eighth row of the charter bus, watching Detroit go by in the waning sunlight, he pulled nervously on the knot of his tie, leaving it skewed to the left. The organ in his chest was fluttering in a way that he hated. Not like it fluttered last night, in an I’m-so-crazily-in-love kind of way. This was anxiety. If Chloe wasn’t answering his calls, something was up. She always answered, immediately catching him up to speed on everything that had taken place in her life since the last time they spoke, be it her lunch order or an itch she couldn’t reach.

He lived for those details.

Had she lost her phone? Was she hurt? Kidnapped?

“You’re not going to believe this motherfucker,” Corrigan shouted, popping up a few rows ahead of Sig, holding up his phone. “He actually named a time and place for this game.”

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