Page 17 of Breaking the Rules
And, this time, I'm pretty sure it's not my inability to communicate sober.
More their inability to hide their desire to bang.
"You're borrowing Brendon's suite for now." Chloe motions to the suite in the middle of the room. "Not that it's officially his. Now that you're working here—"
"I'm just filling in," I say.
She looks back to Dean.
He nods.
I'm not sure what the hell it means, but it conveys something to her.
She turns back to me with a smile. A big, bright smile that lights up her eyes.
She's expecting something from me.
But I haven't got a clue what it is.
"Been awhile, huh?" I ask.
"Yeah." She looks from Dean to me. "How have you been?"
I study her expression. It's earnest. Chloe was always the earnest type.
Except with Dean. The two of them traded barbs like it was going out of style.
She must not know what a mess I made of my life.
Better to keep it that way.
"All right," I say. "How about you?"
"I'm here." She looks back to Dean then raises her voice. "It's horrible torture, being here, but at least I'm learning."
"Oh yeah? You want to quit?" Dean teases.
She flips him off. "Fuck off, dick face."
He blows her a kiss. "You know I take that as a compliment."
She makes a show of rolling her eyes. "He's under some delusion that by calling him dick face, I'm saying his dick is beautiful."
"And?" I ask.
"I've seen better." She steps into the suite and points out where everything is. "You have a few appointments; the stuff Brendon couldn't move. And you can take walk-ins. We usually get a few."
"Thanks." I find a spot for my backpack then pull out my sketchbook. "Good seeing you again."
She nods. "You too." She plays with the pocket of her black jeans. "Let me know if you need anything. And Dean…" She lowers her voice to whisper. "Sometimes, he's okay. I'm sure he'll help if you need it." She turns and moves back to the desk.
Dean whispers something.
She laughs.
It's funny. Familiar. Like high school.
Like I didn't spend the last eight years fucking up my life.
