Page 82 of Making New Plans

I snorted. She’d been the leader since Day One. She wasn’t mean about it. She just tended to make decisions, and I tended to follow. As teenagers, I hadn’t hesitated as much to do things like cut class or sneak into R-rated movies when Sarah was already a step ahead of me and waiting for me to catch up.

She waved her hand, sloshing her wine a bit. “Okay, I usually do, but this time, I’m serious. You don’t have to take my opinion, but you know I can’t help giving it.”

I knew this, too. “Just say it, Sarah.”

She gave me her full-on, unblinking Boss Sarah look. “I think you’re not thinking as clearly as you usually do. Now, I’m not saying that what you’re doing with Hunter isn’t good for you because you’re clearly happy. I’m just saying…” She blew out a loud breath and took a giant gulp of wine. “Shit, this is hard. You get that look on your face like when I accidentally knocked over your morning coffee cup onto your planner. Look, go ahead, have your fun with Hunter, but just don’t lose yourself, okay?”

I frowned. “What do you mean? I’m fine. Everything’s fine.”

She sighed and rubbed her palms on her jeans. “You tend to get very wrapped up with people, Chloe. Everything becomes about them. Like if they have problem, you immediately try to fix it. If they’re unhappy, you’ll do everything to make them happy again, even at the cost of your own happiness. And this thing with Hunter—it’s complicated.” She cast my face a nervous glance. “Don’t lose yourself. Don’t forget the facts. That’s all I’m saying.”

“What are you guys talking about?” Gina interrupted before I could answer.

“Nothing,” I ground out.

“Good because if I keep drinking, I’ll have a hard time painting let alone getting home to Dom.”

Some of the tension left my chest as we tried to imitate Rose’s technique painting a campsite by a lake. Pretty soon, I couldn’t help laughing along with Sarah at our sorry excuses for tents that looked like they’d been constructed by people who’d drunk even more wine than we had. I couldn’t stay mad at her. I wasn’t even sure that I was mad at her. But her words had hit me like a blast of cold air on wet skin.

I didn’t completely ignore what she’d said, but I stuffed it deep in the back of my mind. Those thoughts could wait for a later examination. Right now, I wanted to have fun and not care about the consequences. Because I’d never felt this good in my life, and for once, I wanted to give myself permission to enjoy it without analyzing it to death.

And I did have a lot of fun.

I had fun painting with my friends, commiserating with Gina and Sarah over our disasters and praising Rose over her masterpiece until her cheeks were pink. Then sitting back and talking about our jobs, our dating lives, Dom, food, movies, more food, some gossip from around town, and food again. Gina ordered delivery from Baciami, and we finally stopped talking about food as we wolfed down melt-in-your-mouth garlic breadsticks and stone-fired pizza.

Then I had even more fun after I traipsed back to the lodge under a full moon and a slight buzz and tiptoed past guest rooms to knock on Hunter’s door. He opened it—shirtless, of course. And I decided coming home to a shirtless Hunter would never get old. It was like coming home to your favorite comfy sweatpants and a glass of wine.

He gathered me up and stripped me down. And after some headboard-rattling, mind-blowing sex, we ate dessert in the form of a bag of Milky Ways I’d stuffed in my overnight bag. His eyes lit up like a kid in a candy store when I pulled them out.

It was perfect. Everything. Me with him. Him with me. He was an expert at distracting me from the ever-growing number of voicemails from my ever-more impatient mother and the number of missed committee engagements in my planner.

I knew I was going to have face the music at some point. I just didn’t expect the preamble to come from my brother.

30

Chloe

Three days had passed since paint night with the girls. Three glorious days with Hunter as the highlight of every day and night, and everything else as background noise that I dealt with only when I had to.

I didn’t abandon my managerial duties or anything. I simply wasn’t as worried about them as I used to be. That thought really drove home when I breezed into my office Saturday morning and opened my desk drawer. A full bottle of ibuprofen that I’d purchased weeks ago sat there. The seal was unbroken. I used to go through a small bottle monthly, but no more.

Even a few of the guests had commented on my “glowing complexion” and the “excellent, cheerful service” I was giving. Who would’ve guessed that doing hot yoga and meditation videos had nothing on getting naked and sweaty with Hunter every night?

A worthwhile tradeoff, in my opinion.

But wariness slid into my gut when I saw my brother’s name flash on my phone’s call screen. I hadn’t heard from him in a few weeks.

I answered. “Hey, Flynn.”

His rich baritone filled my ear. “Hey, Chloe Bear, how’s it going?”

“You know I hate that nickname.”

He laughed, loud and full of life, just like him. “I know, but it’s such a fond memory. You, five years old, dressed as a Care Bear. Which one was it again?”

A reluctant smile tugged at my lips. “Tenderheart Bear, the orange one.”

He chuckled again. “Right, right. Well, anyway, I miss you and wanted to see how things were going.”

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