by Pratt, Lulu
This time, Chloe opened her front door easily. Even still, I grumbled, “Why are there so many doors?”
She snorted. “Because it’s a building, Xavier, that’s how buildings work.”
“I think it’s just trying to foil me.”
She reached behind her to grab my hard package. “Hm, doesn’t seem like it’s working then.”
I leaned past her to push the door open, whispering in her ear, “Very funny, wise guy.”
With a giggle, Chloe strode into her apartment, and I followed close on her heels.
It was exactly what I would’ve anticipated. Not the apartment itself, per se. That felt a little off. But the decorations were her to a tee — everything appeared salvaged and second-hand, but in that well-curated way only artists can pull off. There were mirrors and prints in every corner, as well as sprays of flowers and low yellow lamps, draped in silks and cottons, books in stacks on the floor and a few knick-knacks. It was, in itself, a work of art.
“I love it,” I declared, looking around. “You’ve really done wonders with the place.”
“Thanks,” she said, taking off her coat and tossing it carelessly over a nearby chair. “It’s rented from a friend. Not the location or building I would’ve chosen, but hey, whatever. It’s a place to live, so I can’t complain.”
I strode to her, replying, “Okay, have we done enough small talk about housing?”
“Yeah, it seems about right.” Chloe didn’t bother to hide her smile — or her arousal.
Then, to my surprise, she dropped to her knees and hastily unbuckled my belt, pulling my pants down to around my ankles.
“What are you—”
Before I could get the question out, she’d pulled my underwear down as well, and was taking my cock in her mouth.
“Holy shit,” I groaned as her lips wrapped around my shaft. “Holy shit.”
Her mouth worked on me like a force of nature, each movement and turn bringing a new wave of pleasure. When I looked down, I saw her head bobbing with a scintillating fury, her hair moving back and forth as though she were caught in a wind machine.
“Chloe,” I said through clenched teeth.
Without taking her mouth from my dick, Chloe looked up at me, her enormous blue eyes finding mine.
“You look so good with my cock in your mouth,” I said.
What I meant was I think I might be in love with you.
She smiled around my shaft, and continued to suck on me, tracing every ridge with her tongue, taking my balls in her fingers to fondle them.
Had anything ever felt so wonderful? She handled my cock like it was a fine piece of art, tending to it with all the care and finesse she did the paintings.
“Don’t stop,” I moaned in a voice so deep it was barely a human tone. “Don’t stop, Chloe.”
She laughed, and the noise sent vibrations through my tender flesh. Shit, I could stay like this forever and ever, and—
Suddenly, we were interrupted by the sound of my phone, blaring through Chloe’s small apartment.
Chloe took her mouth off my member and asked lightly, “Do you have to get that?”
“Oh please,” I replied. “We’re busy.”
She grinned and moved in to my genitals once more. The phone mercifully went to voicemail, and as I was ready to settle into more of her masterful work, the phone began to ring again.
“Goddammit,” I muttered, angrily running a hand through my hair, nearly tugging it out by the roots. “Lemme just check this, it’ll only be a second.”
Chloe sat my on her feet and calves, tucked neatly beneath her. “Take your time, I’m not going anywhere. I do, after all, live here.”
I mustered a chuckle and reached into my pants, which had folded around my ankles on the hardwood floor.
The incoming call screen read:
Rebecca.
“Fuck.”
“What is it?” Chloe questioned, immediately concerned. “Everything okay?”
“Yes — no — I-I need to answer this.”
“Of course.”
I pulled my pants up to around my thighs and shuffled a few feet away, trying to maintain some sense of decorum — which is easier said than done when you’re in your lover’s apartment and your would-be fiancée is calling.
Lover? I thought, questioning my own word choice as I slid the bar to answer Rebecca’s call. Is Chloe my lover?
That was a whole complicated mess for another time. I lifted the cell to my ear.
“Hello?”
“Xavier, thank God I got you.”
I transitioned into protective mode at once. Whether or not Rebecca was the love of my life, she was most certainly one of my best friends, and it was obvious she needed help.
“Just take a deep breath and tell me what’s going on,” I instructed her, pressing the phone to my shoulder as I tugged my pants up and zipped them. “It’s all gonna be okay, just tell me what you need.”
“My father’s in the hospital,” she sobbed.
Shit. I turned back to Chloe, who was still on the floor, her mouth glistening with spit. Her brows were knitted together with concern, and I held up a finger, indicating for her to wait.
“Which hospital?” I asked evenly.
Chloe’s hand flew to her mouth as Rebecca replied, “St. Joseph’s.”
“I’ll be there in—” I checked my watch, “—thirty minutes.”
“Please come, Xavier, I need you.”
“I’m already on my way.”
She hung up the phone and I crumpled, slamming a fist against the wall as I slid to the ground.
Chloe was on her feet and rushing over to me.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, desperate as she laid a hand on my shoulder.
I shrugged it off. I wasn’t trying to be rude, but the feeling of her comfort, at a time like this, when I was rushing off to Rebecca’s side… it was so wrong. Her hand reminded me of all that I was doing wrong, the many people I was betraying by cheating on Rebecca. And now her father, practically my uncle, was in the hospital, and I was out here, fooling around with my lover. Guilt overwhelmed me, threatening to pull me down so deep I never saw the light of the surface again.
Chloe dropped her caressing hand back to her side, not bothering to hide her disappointment.
“Rebecca’s father is in the hospital,” I said curtly. “I have to go.”
“Oh God, I’m so sorry—”
“It’s fine.” I couldn’t do this right now. “I’ll call you later.”
“Do you want me to come with you?”
I laughed. That was the last thing I wanted her to do. “Probably not a great idea to bring you, the woman I’ve been sleeping with, around my soon-to-be fiancée and her father.”
Chloe’s face flashed with heartbreak, then anger, and finally, stony removal.
“Of course,” she said, her words clipped. “I understand. Goodbye, Xavier. I’ll keep him in my thoughts.”
“Thanks.”
I hesitated for one more moment in the middle of her living room, straightening my pants and watching Chloe out of the corner of my eye. It was simultaneously clear that she was deeply hurt and trying very hard to show otherwise.
She’s tougher than I am, I thought bitterly. I wished I had half her balls.
“I’ll see you later,” I said at last, straightening up with a nod and moving to the door.
I was crossing the threshold when I heard Chloe sink into the couch and let out a muffled sob.
CHAPTER 24
Xavier
THE HOSPITAL was like any other hospital. Antiseptic, lit with fluorescent lights, the phantom of disease lurking around every corner.
I’d never liked hospitals or doctors. Then again, who does? This was a position that was only tenable because I was blessed to live a fairly healthy life. Were I a sickly child, either I’d have felt differently, or I would have been very, very miserable. It was just something about the sense of permanent sadness and mourn
ing… it clung to you like an odor.
The receptionist behind the large central desk wore long, colorful acrylic nails that couldn’t have possibly been up to dress code.
“Hi,” I said, approaching her. “Could you tell me what room Adam Layton is in?”
“Who’s asking?” she replied in a distinctly Jersey accent.
“Xavier Holt. I should be on the visitor list.” The woman was unmoved, so I stretched the truth and added, “I’m his daughter’s fiancé.”
She narrowed her eyes, but only replied, “Suite 603. You can’t miss it, it’s the biggest one in this place.”
“Thanks very much.”
“Don’t mention it.” She kicked her legs up on the counter and went back to her phone.
Great customer service, I thought wryly. Then again, it seemed likely that only a woman that cold and removed could handle a job like this one.
I moved as fast as I could without running in the direction of the elevators.
“Come on, come on.” Why was it going so slowly?
At last the door slid open with a smooth ding, and I was on my way up.
In short time, I was in front of the room. It was in a secluded wing of the hospital — the rich people wing, so to speak. I shook my head, trying not to reflect on the inequality of the healthcare system in this country. I could do all my angry ranting after I’d checked in on Adam.
Knocking on the door, I called, in as breezy a tone as possible, “Hello, anybody home?”
There was the sound of some shuffling and some groans, and moments later, Rebecca’s head popped out.
“Oh, Xavier, I’m so happy to see you. Thank you so much for coming,” she said, scooching out of the door and shutting it softly behind her.
I pulled her into a hug and felt her relax with exhaustion into my arms.
Petting her hair, I asked, “Rebecca, what’s wrong, what happened?”
“It’s okay now,” she reassured me, lifting her head just a little from my shoulder, “but he had a small heart attack.”
“A heart attack?!” I repeated in disbelief.
“Yeah, apparently he’s been going too heavy on the liquor and red meat.”
“But I saw him only earlier this evening. Goddammit, Adam.”
“That’s what I said.”
She sighed and unraveled herself from my arms. In the brutal light of the hospital, she looked older than I’d ever seen her. Rebecca had always seemed young for her age, with that dark brown hair and perma-smile, but now, I saw lines of worry around her eyes, and sensed an invisible burden tugging her shoulders closer to the ground. She was still the girl I’d known since we were babies, but for the first time, I realized we were both coming of age. And maturing into… what? Two people who were ready to get married?
I mentally snapped at myself. Enough. This wasn’t the time to worry about our pending engagement. Adam was sick.
“Can I see him?”
“Of course. He’s been asking for you.”
She turned and opened the door, escorting me inside.
There, in the middle of the enormous room, hooked up to a million monitors with even more flashing lights, was Adam. Like Rebecca, he looked older than I ever realized he might be. Adam had always seemed so strong, sturdy like the mountains. Now, all of a sudden, he was… frail.
“Hey, Xavier,” he said feebly, struggling to sit up. “Don’t lift the sheets, I’m half naked.”
Just as I was about to approach him, my eye caught another figure in the corner of the room.
“Marc?!” I said incredulously. There, in the corner of the room, was my good friend from college. “What are you doing here?”
“Marc and I are friends,” Rebecca said quickly. “He was close by when it happened, so he offered to come with me.”
“Oh. Okay.” I accepted the answer for the moment. Adam was more important. To Adam, the man of the hour, I asked, “How are you doing, old man?”
He shrugged, and I walked to the bed so I could sit on the neatly starched sheets beside him.
“I’ve been better,” he admitted.
“Apparently you’ve been having too much fun,” I scolded him. “You know you can’t have all that shit at your age.”
Adam wasn’t taking any guff from me. “You young people can’t be the only ones living life. Us old folks gotta less loose every now and then too. Even sometimes on our way home from the opera.”
“Fine, but not so loose you have a heart attack.”
Adam ignored my admonishment. “Rebecca, can you be a lamb and grab me some more ice chips?”
She immediately flitted to the corner of the room, which was some twenty feet away, and began dispensing chips from a little bucket.
Out of nowhere, Adam gripped my wrist and pulled me in close with surprising force for a man who’d just had a cardiac episode.
“Listen, kid,” he whispered in a grizzled voice, staring into the depths of my soul with blazing eyes. “I love Rebecca more than anything in this world. I need a minor surgery, nothing drastic, but I can’t go under until you promise me that you’ll take care of her.”
“Adam—”
“Promise me.”
I gazed into his eyes, which bored through me like drills. I knew that I would always take care of Rebecca, but could I do it in the way that Adam meant — as a husband?
There was no time to think about it now. Adam needed this surgery, and I couldn’t be responsible for holding him back.
“I promise.”
“Good,” he said, settling back into his pillows just as Rebecca arrived with the ice chips.
“What were you two talking about?” she asked.
I was about to speak up, but Adam butted in. “Oh, just telling Xavier he’d better make sure the doctor’s not a quack.”
Rebecca rolled her eyes. “Dad, they’re the best doctors money can buy.”
“Oh, right.”
If she knew something was off, she didn’t let on.
“So, where’s my cot?” I questioned, trying to break the tension.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, obviously I’m staying the night.”
Adam guffawed. “Like hell you are. It’s a tiny surgery. I’m not gonna have you here, crowding my space. Besides your snoring might keep me up.”
“You’re just being obstinate,” I returned. “I’ll stay, and entertain you, keep up your spirits.”
“With what, a juggling routine? Go on, Xavier, we’ll be fine here without you.”
Marc stood from his chair and sauntered over. “Yeah,” he affirmed, giving me a light nudge on the shoulder. “I’ll stay with Rebecca.” He paused and added quickly, “And Adam. Obviously.”
Huh. That was strange, right? It’d been weird enough seeing Marc here, but now, to boot, he was offering to stay the night… Was I just being hypersensitive? Or was there more going on than met the naked eye?
“If you’re sure,” I began, but Rebecca cut me off.
“I’m sure.”
Marc chimed in, “God knows I have nothing better to do.”
“Okay,” I agreed, not wishing to overstay my welcome. “I’ll be back soon though, okay?”
Rebeca smiled brightly and took my hand in hers. “Of course. See you soon.”
I gave her a peck on the cheek, and tried not to notice the way Marc turned away at the gesture. Weird.
Having been reassured that Adam was going to pull through — tough old goat he was, I shouldn’t have even been mildly surprised — I walked out the way I’d come in.
The first thing I did when I passed out of the automatic sliding doors of the hospital was to gulp in a deep breath of fresh air. The second was to call Chloe.
“Are you still home?” I asked the moment I heard her pick up.
She hesitated. “Why?”
“I need to see you.”
“You just saw me,” she said, a note of pain in her voice. “And you just left without warning.”
> “Adam had a heart attack, Chloe. I’m sorry. I was a mess. Let me make it up to you.”
She sucked in air. “I didn’t realize it was so bad, fuck. I didn’t mean to be cold, I just thought… yes, of course, come back over.”
I was past wondering if this was a good idea. My honorary uncle had just narrowly avoided death. Tonight, I needed some creature comfort.
“I’ll be there as soon as possible.”
“I can’t wait.”
CHAPTER 25
Chloe
NO, NO, no. I groaned, throwing aside one piece of lingerie after another.
Xavier had sounded so despondent on the phone, I figured that a little surprise might cheer him up, get his mind off things. And of course, my version of a surprise was something sexy.
“This is all wrong,” I complained to no one but myself as I fingered through my underwear drawer.
At this point, I knew I was overthinking it, but whenever something challenging happened in my life, I tended to retreat to small details, easy tasks, little lists. Things that could be accomplished in a few minutes, things that would take my mind off everything else. In this case, that was lingerie.
But remember, it’s not your life, I corrected myself. It was Xavier’s. And our lives were not shared, no matter what I might occasionally fantasize. If I let myself think otherwise, I was opening myself up to a world of heartbreak.
And just as I was trying not to reflect too much on the confusing web I’d weaved between Xavier and me, my fingers brushed against some raw silk, deep in the confines of the drawer.
I tugged, and out came a piece I’d forgotten I had, a little number I’d picked up in Italy.
“Perfect,” I said to myself with satisfaction. “You’ll do nicely.”
It took no time at all to shimmy out of my day clothes and into the getup. With a hint of trepidation, I inched to my full-length mirror, preparing myself for the sight.
In the reflection, I saw a stranger. No messy hair, no boyish clothes. This was a woman.
The garment I’d discovered was an old corset I’d scored in a vintage shop in the depths of Rome, a black silk piece with whalebone framing, large molded cups and lacing that cinched in the back. I’d paired it with some simple black panties that hugged every inch of my ass.