Page 34 of Dream Girl Drama

He chuckled. “The baddest.”

“What if it’s like that movieWhiplash? Where the instructor tortures me psychologically so he can break me down and rebuild me in his image?”

“Easy. I will fucking kill him.”

“Ooh. Promise?”

Heat swamped the back of his neck at the thought of her being bullied. “Yes.”

He sensed, rather than saw, her smirk. “Her name is GraceShen and by all accounts, she’s a consummate professional. You can stop committing mental murder now.”

At the news that Chloe’s mentor was a woman, his blood ceased to boil, but the possessiveness remained at a simmer. It always did. Ready to rollick at a moment’s notice. For instance, what if Grace had an assistant who didn’t find it unprofessional to ask Chloe on a date? There were too many variables... and as long as they were just friends, Sig had a blade hanging above his neck at all times.

“Are you really going to shave for me?” Chloe asked, distracting him.

Speaking of blades near his neck. “Have I ever said no to anything you wanted?”

“No,” she said, not hesitating.

“You said if I shaved for you, you would let me help you decide what to wear to your first mentorship meeting.”

“I did say that.” He was certain that he caught her shivering in his peripheral vision, her voice significantly softer when she added, “I could do a quick fashion show for you when we get home...”

Sig couldn’t respond. He was too busy trying to keep his dick locked in neutral. As always. It was a losing battle and he knew, as always, he’d be leaving her apartment hard as nails tonight, just like he did every other time. But there was a pretense to uphold. They were best friends who would eventually be related, but weren’t quite related yet, having an innocent fashion show at eleven o’clock at night in her bedroom.

Totally normal.

Nothing to see here.

Chapter Eight

Whenever Sig graced her apartment with his presence, Chloe had to refrain from doing an embarrassing little dance. Sometimes she gave into the urge and let her excitement at being around him show. Oher times, like tonight, when they’d already pushed their limits a little too far, she held back out of necessity.

Still... having Sig over was the best. THE BEST.

He sauntered around like a cranky tiger, straightening picture frames and folding up throw blankets. Frowning at all the crumpled-up Sephora bags in the trash can. Grumbling. Checking her cabinets to make sure she had enough food.

Chloe really did her best not to stare as he completed these rituals, but not staring at Sig Gauthier was like going to the beach and ignoring a brilliant pink-and-orange sunset.

In his sweatpants, Bearcats hoodie, and wet, freshly showered hair, he was the sun itself, as far as Chloe was concerned. The meaning of the name Sig meant “a victory that brings peace and protection” and that definition couldn’t be more accurate. He was thoughtful and encouraging and, oh yeah, superprotective. Most important, however, Sig believed in her. In a way she’d never experienced from someone she loved.

Sure, she knew her mother believed in her musical abilities, but Sofia never took an active interest beyond bragging about them or scheduling her an audience where Sofia could bask in the accolades afterward. Similar to Chloe’s estranged father, Sofia used these performances as a social tool. A magic trick to pull out of the bag at parties or a way to meet interesting people abroad. Since coming to Boston Chloe had started to ponder the possibility that her mother had never pushed her to take bigger chances with her music because she wanted to keep Chloe at home, under her thumb. Meanwhile, Sig asked Chloe what she wanted. She never had to worry about an ulterior motive with him. With Sig, there was nothing but safety.

Emotionally, at least.

She was eons away from being satisfied physically. Sig had lit a fuse six months ago in Connecticut and she was getting dangerously close to the end of it.

Trying to ignore the way her pulse thumped, Chloe leaned a hip against her kitchen table, watching him do his rounds a few yards away in the kitchen. “I don’t think I even congratulated you on winning tonight.”

“That’s okay. I know you’re pumped when we win.” He took an empty Pop-Tarts box out of the cabinet, showing her the lack of contents with a frown, before tossing it onto the counter. Instead of continuing his search as usual, he braced his hands on the counter, staying silent for a few beats, before looking over at Chloe again. “Burgess is officially retiring after this season. He told me tonight before the game.”

Goose bumps raced down Chloe’s arms.

Burgess “Sir Savage” Abraham was an institution. A Bearcats legend and one of the most beloved figures in Boston. Sig’s idol turned close friend. Tallulah’s future husband. Hearing that he would no longer be part of the team Chloe had grown to love with her whole heart over the last six months was... expected, yes, since he’d recently faced a back injury and he was approaching his late thirties. But the news was still like a blast from two shocker paddles.

“Oh my gosh.” She pushed off the table and entered the kitchen, approaching Sig slowly. “How do you feel about that?”

“I don’t know.” A muscle hopped in his jaw. “Mostly sad, I guess.”

---