Page 382 of 5+Us Makes Seven

“I want you,” he muttered into my lips before he kissed me again, this time moving more urgently.

Just as I pulled him against me, completely forgetting where we were, someone cleared their throat.

Just great. The humiliation of the year.

I was beet red when I stepped away from Bryce and met Ruth’s gaze, her brows arched high in surprise. She was the first to break the silence.

“It’s time for presents, kids.” She winked at us and left the kitchen, acting like she was completely cool with us kissing like this.

Bryce rolled his eyes. “You look… uncomfortable.”

I smacked his shoulder playfully. “Yeah? Well, having your mother catch us in the middle of a heated kiss isn’t something usual, you know?”

His only response was laugh as he led me out of the kitchen. I told myself to relax and try to enjoy this time with his parents to the fullest. Maybe—just maybe—things could turn out right after all.

13

Bryce

I had no idea why Chloe had been standoffish since yesterday. I thought we’d had a great time with my parents—she even managed to relax and act as her usual self after our conversation in the kitchen—but I was apparently wrong.

After we returned to our hotel last night, I wanted to make love to her, ready to ask her to be my girlfriend, for real this time, but she refused me, saying she didn’t feel well. She went to sleep early, barely exchanging a few words with me.

Her excuse not to sleep with me didn’t sound plausible, but I gave her the benefit of the doubt, expecting her to go back to her old self next morning. However, she proved me wrong when we got up and started packing, being all distant and unresponsive.

We were flying home, and all this time she was quiet and in her own head. I wanted to start a conversation with her, but I didn’t know how. She was nervous because of her fear of flying, and it bothered me that she didn’t even allow me to help her and reduce her anxiety.

Clearing my throat, I turned my head to look at her. “Chloe?”

She was gazing through the window, not moving an inch. “Yes?”

I clenched my jaw, wishing she would at least look at me. “I’m worried about you. Talk to me.”

She didn’t respond immediately, glancing at the book that was in her lap. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”

“How do I not worry about you when we barely spoke today? You’ve been acting weird since yesterday, so don’t tell me you’re fine. You aren’t fine.”

She still wasn’t looking at me, and it was starting to piss me off. “Is this because of my decision? You’re afraid you’re going to lose your job?”

She met my gaze at last, maintaining her blank expression. “We already talked about this yesterday, Bryce. I told you I’m supporting your decision, so what more do you want?”

I winced, taken about with her bitterness. Something was definitely off. “What more do I want? I want you to stop acting like a sulking teenager and talk with me. We’re adults, Chloe. So we should talk about this.”

She crossed her arms. “There is nothing we should talk about.”

“Do you even hear yourself? Are you really leaving me with no explanation? You’ve been distant since yesterday, so don’t tell me everything is fine. If you’re angry with me, say it.”

“I’m not angry with you.” Her flat voice made me even madder, and I fisted my hands on my lap.

This was leading us nowhere. I was getting angrier, while she was becoming more reserved.

“Fine,” I said and looked away. “If you say so.”

We spend the rest of our flight in uncomfortable silence, which did nothing to tone down my anger and anxiety. Why did she have to be so difficult?

I went to the board the first thing next morning, ready to notify them about my decision to quit. Just like yesterday, Chloe gave me the cold shoulder, sticking to business and refusing to talk about things irrelevant to her work, claiming she was too busy.

My anger had diminished, leaving fear in its wake. I didn’t want to lose her. Now that I knew how much she meant to me, I couldn’t let her grow more distanced from me or even worse—to completely lose her. None of this would happen if I talked with her first and told her I wanted to be with her, but now it was too late to cry over spilled milk.

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