Page 114 of We Can't Be Friends

Her head falls back revealing her narrow throat. I want to kiss it. Lick it.

“Oh, Pretty Boy. Our place couldn’t take your ego getting any bigger.”

It doesn’t pass me that she said our place. Chloe always refers to the flat as my place or Liam’s place. She’s never called it hers or acknowledges that she lives here.

Chloe’s head straightens and sparkling eyes mesmerize me.

“How are you so unapologetically yourself all the time?” I ask her.

“I’m not,” she breathes out. “Maybe with you, but not everyone else. That Chloe is on. That Chloe is the one everyone expects to always be okay. That Chloe is cold, a bitch, the person you bring into a cat fight.”

“Who is this Chloe?”

“I don’t know. I’m twenty-eight and I’m more confused about who I’m supposed to be than I was at eighteen and being told to decide what I want to do with the rest of my life.”

“Doesn’t change when you’re thirty.”

“Maybe ever, huh?”

“Tell me something about you that no one knows.”

She fiddles with the sheets. “I hate my job. I think about quitting every other day. It’s not what I wanted to do.” I tilt my head, giving her space to speak. After she talked me down in the bathroom, she deserves it—deserves the world, too. “I thought I’d be skating professionally, maybe the Olympic Team or those shows on ice—I loved those as a kid.” Chloe’s mouth ticks up. “After skating, I wanted to follow in my dad’s footsteps, be a coach. Maybe open a skating school.”

“Why didn’t you?”

Chloe sucks in a cheek, biting down on it. “Things change. Your turn.”

“Sometimes I think about asking Liam to buy into the company. Be part owner.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Why haven’t you asked him?”

“What if he says no?”

“What if he says yes. You’re incredible at your job, Cal. Liam’s told you Hayes Hotels wouldn’t be what it is without you. Give me a better reason.”

The words scrape across my tongue. “I could be terrible at it and fail miserably.”

“So? Aren’t mistakes a part of life? No one is asking you to be perfect. If you mess up, learn from it and try again. But if you ask me, I think you’d kick ass.” Chloe winks.

“You might be right, Henry.”

“Let’s get one thing straight, Pretty Boy. I’m always right.”

***

Ithink this is what heaven is like—Chloe asleep in my arms, lightly breathing, her lips parted. Hair spread out around her and arms wrapped around my waist.

If it’s not, I don’t want to go.

My stomach contracts, the muscles seizing as her finger tips mindlessly move across my abdomen. The lightest touches above the waistband of my shorts.

I don’t wake her, wanting to commit this view to memory.

After she fell asleep last night, I snuck out of the bed—when I unwrapped her from my body the faintest frustrated groan slipped from her—to open the drapes and blinds. My room doesn’t get the same morning sunlight that hers does, but I know she sleeps best when they are open.

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