I hated being alone. I hated it to my core.
Screw you, Liam. Being alone may work for him, but not for me. Everyone handles grief differently; it wasn’t my fault that I was an extrovert. Just like it wasn’t Liam’s fault he was an introvert! Why should I be forced to do things his way? I wanted to hang out with my friends. I wanted to spend my time with other people. Even during times of distress. Or maybe especially during times of distress.
And that didn’t make me a bad person, for God’s sake.
If he couldn’t understand that, then maybe we weren’t meant to be friends.
Clutching my phone, I grabbed my keys and some snacks, and hit the redial button. It rang a few times, then went to voicemail. “Tanja, it’s me,” I said, pinning the phone between my ear and shoulder as I locked my front door behind me. “I don’t want to fight. I’ve got a bag of Oreos and I’m on my way over.”
Tanja’s apartment complex was literally a five minute drive from my house. I got there in three.
Throwing my car in park, I ran up the stairs to her front door and rang the bell.
Nothing.
I balled my hand into a fist and knocked loudly. After another thirty seconds or so, I pressed my ear to the door. I could have sworn I heard mumbled talking and footsteps.
But still no answer.
I turned to leave when I heard the door click open behind me. I swiveled to find Tanja in a short, silken robe, clutched between her breasts. Her long, slender legs were perched atop feathery heels and even though her makeup was flawless, her hair was messy and tousled.
“Chloe,” she said, her eyes wide. She tossed a quick glance over her shoulder before pulling the door closed behind her. “What are you doing here?”
I smiled at her. “I got your message. I just… I wanted to see you.”
Her eyes shifted to the closed door. “I wish you’d called me first.”
This made so much sense. Tanja and I were both extroverts… but in times of distress, where I reached out and enjoyed dancing and drinks and time with friends as a release, Tanja’s go-to was sex.
“I did, but it went to voicemail.” I reached out, tugging on the hem of her sexy robe. “And I think I know why now.” I dropped my voice to a whisper. “Is it the financial analyst guy you met last week?”
But my best friend didn’t laugh. She didn’t spill the beans and dish about who was currently wrapped in her sheets. She didn’t twirl around and show off her sexy robe and shoes to me like she normally would. Instead, she wrapped her arms around her torso, hugging herself.
Tanja sniffed and her chin quivered. “You’re here. I can’t believe you’re here. I wanted to do this right. This apology. I wanted to see you and get pizza and spend all night together.” Tears filled her eyes and her teeth came down over her bottom lip. “I’m so sorry about Liam—”
“I know.” I shook my head, cutting her off. She was a trembling mess. “It’s okay. I know you never would have… with Liam… if you knew I cared about him.”
Her cheeks went pink and more tears filled her eyes, one spilling down her cheek. “You said you two were just faking the relationship for the publicity. But still, I—I don’t know what to say. I thought I’d lost you for real this time and I feel horrible.”
I pulled her against me and hugged her. “You haven’t lost me.” This was what I wanted. I wanted to make up with my friend. But Liam’s words about Tanja still resonated in my head, echoing like whispers from a cavern. “But I do think some things need to change. I can’t always pay for every bill. And I think you use me sometimes without realizing it.”
I pulled back from the hug, searching her frowning face. She didn’t seem all that much more relieved.
The muscles in her throat constricted, but she nodded all the same. “I know. I’m sorry. I was getting really jealous—you’re making this whole new life for yourself and it didn’t include me at all.”
“Your acting and auditions don’t include me. And that’s okay. We’re friends. We don’t need to share every aspect of our lives. But I do need you to support me. And maybe, if you like someone who’s a good friend of mine, just talk to me before kissing him? I’d do the same for you.”
There was a thump on the other side of the door and a deep, male voice drifted through. “Who is it, Tanja?”
The rims of her eyes went tight and her hand shot to the doorknob as the voice continued to call out. “Whoever it is, tell them to go away, and get your hot ass back in here!”
Blackness dotted my vision and I stumbled backward, struck by that voice. I knew that voice.
“Who’s in there, Tanja?” I managed to ask.
“No one,” she squeaked, terror knotting at the center of her brow. “It’s uh, just a, just a guy I met.”
We both knew that was a lie. I narrowed my gaze. It didn’t take a lot of force to push past her and slam the door open. It cracked against the wall behind it, rattling the bookshelf.
There, standing in the kitchen wearing only his boxers… was Dan.
Acid rolled up my throat and I swallowed it back down. “Well. Okay, then.” I crossed my arms and glared at Dan. “How long has this been going on?”
He stuttered, just like he did when I first found out about him and Raina. His face ruddy and pink, mouth flapping and stuttering, but not saying a single word. “Uh, it’s, um, it was only this one time.”
I slid my glare to Tanja who at least had the decency to look contrite. “Chloe—”
“How long?” I asked again.
“Eight months,” she whispered.
Eight. Months. Long before Dan and I ever broke up, my “best friend” had been fucking my fiancé.
I curled my arms around my stomach, shoulders slumping, like I could hug away the painful punch in my gut. When I straightened, I exhaled the breath I’d been holding—and to my surprise, a laugh escaped.
A loud, barking laugh.
It grew—the laughter shaking my whole body. I couldn’t seem to draw in a deep enough breath to pause or stand straight or stop laughing.
The whole scene was just so ridiculous. How could I be so fucking dumb? For years, Tanja had been showing me who she was. Only, I didn’t see it. I didn’t listen when she told me time and time again that she wasn’t a good friend.
I so badly wanted to believe in the good in her, I was blind to the bad.
My chuckles subsided and all that was left in their wake was searing pain and rage. This was worse than Dan cheating. Tanja’s actions were more of a betrayal than anything my fiancé could have done.
I didn’t want an excuse or a reason. I didn’t even want their fucking apologies. I wanted them both out of my life.
Forever.
I shook my head and raced for the door, pausing beside Tanja. “You and me? We’re done.”
39
Chloe
At 3:45 a.m., my alarm went off.
It’s time to make the donuts.
Literally.
Apprehension fizzed in the pit of my stomach, churning and spitting like a shaken soda. I had no idea what to expect for today. Was Liam going to be there to help me bake? Was he even talking to me anymore?
The rest of the night was a blur. I tried facetiming my sister twice, but she didn’t answer. After finding Tanja and Dan together, I desperately wanted to call Liam. I wanted someone to talk to. Someone who not only knew me but also Tanja and the whole Dan situation.
But I couldn’t. Not because he would have owed me a big, fat I told you so, but because Liam was right. I leaned on him way too much. I reached out to him so consistently and the lines had blurred, even in my own head. Was I reaching out and leaning on him because I wanted to? Yes. Was I also leaning on him because I was addicted to the support?
Also yes.
And that was a bitch to admit.
So many of the romance novels I read seemed to praise the drug-like qualities of attraction and relationships. When you were passionate about someone, you were ad
dicted to them—constantly craving them, needing them. No one had ever stood up and told me that was messed up.
No one but Liam.
I quickly showered and dressed, throwing my hair in a wet bun and not bothering with a stitch of makeup.
Taking the steps two at a time, I rushed downstairs and froze. My rug at the front door was askew. Wrinkled and crooked, like someone had come into my house in the middle of the night.
And the deadbolt at my front door was unlocked.
I always locked my door. Always.
I’m also meticulous about the rugs in my house. I’d spent hours cleaning my house yesterday, scrubbing and straightening the various rooms. There was no way in hell I came home last night, even in my upset state, and messed up that rug without fixing it. Not after I’d spent hours making sure my house was spotless.
Which meant someone had broken in. But when? Sometime between now and when I crawled into bed after getting home from Tanja’s. And that was around nine forty-five last night.
How did they break in? Was I robbed? Did they sneak into my bedroom and see me sleeping? Or more terrifyingly, were they still here?
Panicking, I gripped my cell phone in one hand, my text messages open. What do I do? I didn’t want to call 9-1-1 because what if I was just being an idiot and no one was here? What if last night, I’d just happened to forget to lock the door and the rug had slid as I walked inside?
No. I knew that wasn’t the case.
There was no fucking way I was calling Tanja. Even on her best day, there was no way she’d answer and help me at four in the morning.
My sister couldn’t help me from across the ocean.
I dialed my Dad’s number. Still standing halfway down the stairs, I held the phone up to my ear. Straight to voicemail. Dammit. Both he and my mom turn their phones on Do Not Disturb at night.
You could text Liam. He’d be awake.
Shit. He truly was the only person who made sense, other than the police.
I typed, I’m so sorry to bother you… I think someone broke into my house last night.
My trembling thumb hovered over the send button.
What am I doing? This was exactly what he’d been talking about. I had to stop depending on him.
As I was about to delete the text, a cabinet door slammed shut in my kitchen. Loudly. And a muttered fuck echoed through my otherwise silent house, even though it was whispered.
Ice skittered down my spine and I flinched, jumping at the noise. My hand slid across the screen of my phone and it slipped out of my hand falling down the stairs with a deafening crash.
Shit! Shit, shit, shit!
Looking around me, I grabbed the nearest thing that could possibly be used as a weapon—a wooden sculpture Tanja had bought for me on some trip to Europe.
Yep, this was going in the garbage anyway after last night. Might was well use it to bludgeon an intruder first.
“Chloe?” A feminine voice called from the kitchen. “Is that you?”
I exhaled a relieved breath and rushed down the rest of the stairs into the kitchen. “Elaina?”
There, standing over the coffee maker in my dark kitchen, was my big sister.
And I’d never been happier to see her in my life.
Her luggage was propped beside her and she held a bag of coffee in one hand and filters in the other.
Tears streamed down my face. I lost control of every emotion I’d been tamping down for two days and I fell into her arms.
“Oh, Chloe,” she whispered and held me as I cried. “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”
We fell to the floor together, sitting on my scrubbed hardwood planks and leaning against the cabinets while I sobbed. A mix of the faint lemon-scented cleaner and Elaina’s cucumber shampoo surrounded us.
After a few minutes of uncontrollable crying, I managed to get it together. Using a dish towel that I yanked from where it hung on my oven, I wiped at my raw eyes. “Wh-what are you doing here?” I managed to ask in between hiccupped breaths. “You’re not scheduled to come home until next week.”
Elaina sighed and held me closer to her in a hug. “I saw the story that went viral… and as someone who knows exactly how that feels, I came home to be with you.”
I sniffed. “I don’t deserve a big sister as good as you, you know that?”
“Yeah. I’m pretty damn awesome.” Her cheek fell to my head. “So, you and Liam are…” her voice trailed off, and the only response I could manage through my clenched throat and glossy tears was to shake my head.
Elaina sighed. “I’m sorry.”
Though neither of us could see the front door from where we were sitting, we heard it swing open. “Chloe! Chloe, are you okay? Where are you?”
“Liam?” What the hell?
I pushed to my feet and peeked around the wall to the foyer. I didn’t have to peek far, he was already rushing into the house, panic-stricken.
He came at me so fast that I startled, pulling back as he cupped my jaw and inspected me. “Are you okay? What happened? Was anything stolen?”
“My text,” I whispered. Shiiiiiiit. It must have accidentally sent when my phone fell down the stairs.
“Yeah, I rushed over as soon as I got it. Are you okay?”
No, I wanted to say.
I’m so not okay.
Even though it had only been thirty hours since I’d last seen Liam, it felt like a lifetime ago.
And while I knew I looked rough, Liam wasn’t looking so hot himself.
No, wait. I take that back. Liam always looked hot. But he looked upset. His eyes were swollen and rimmed red. His hair was unwashed and messy. He was wearing his high school track t-shirt; the one that I know he only sleeps in when he wants something familiar and comfortable.
“I’m fine,” I choked. “I didn’t mean to send that text.”
Confusion marred his beautifully masculine features. “What?”
I sighed. “The intruder was Elaina. I didn’t know she was coming home early. And I had typed in that text message… paused, realizing I needed to delete it, when I got scared and dropped my phone down the stairs.” I crossed to the bottom of the stairs where my phone was still laying face down. “See? It must have accidentally sent during the fall.”
He rubbed at his jaw, his gaze settling on my mouth. “So, you’re okay?”
It felt surreal, after all this time, to have Liam in my house and feel like he was a stranger. He had fit so seamlessly into my life from day one—or at least, I thought he had. Had I just imagined it? Could it be that I’d always been comfortable with him, but he’d never quite fully been himself around me?
Just the thought made my stomach turn over itself.
“I heard you when you said we need space. I shouldn’t have texted you. I’m sorry.”
I said those two words, that apology, and it applied to so much more than just this morning.
“Chloe, if you’re in danger or hurt, you can always text me. I’d rather that than—”
I shook my head. Though the movement was silent, it cut him off mid-sentence anyway. His voice was too soft. Too considerate. Too sweet. And it grated my nerves.
“No,” I said, firmly. “That’s not your job. You’re not my person anymore.”
A pang stabbed my chest at the wounded look in his eye, but I’m not quite sure what he expected. He was the one who walked away. Who told me I needed to find myself and gain my independence. Not that he was wrong, but he also didn’t have the right to be hurt over me doing exactly what he’d asked me to do.
I tilted my chin higher and hardened my gaze. “I promise it won’t happen again and I swear that while we’re baking and working the food truck together, I’ll be professional.”
He angled his head back, peering at me with his bright green eyes. “About the food truck. Finn is going to take over my duties there. Just for a couple weeks while we sort all this out.”
All this. I dragged in a deep breath, trying to ignore just how
deep that blow resonated in my body. If this was a boxing match, I think that would’ve had me down for the count.
“Oh,” I whispered. It was all I could think of to say. Oh. I shook my head, clearing the thoughts away. “Wait. The food truck is your dream. I can step away—I’ll handle the marketing from afar. That way you get to still do what you love.”
He pressed his lips together thoughtfully, the corners of his eyes squinting ever so slightly in the way he does when he’s thinking. “Why don’t you handle Sunday through Tuesday with Finn. And I’ll do Thursday through Saturday? It’s even that way, and we both get days off.”
I tried to untangle the emotional knot that was thick in my chest. “Who will you work with? You can’t do it alone—” It was practically painful to step away from him. To imagine him working our food truck with anyone else.
“Remy can help me. And if not, I’ll manage on my own.”
I smoothed a trembling hand down my khaki shorts to help calm my jittery nerves. “Okay, then. I’ll… see you around.”
Except I wouldn’t be seeing him around.
And judging from the hard edges framing his frown and the tension around the rims of his eyes, he knew this, too.
“Bye, Liam,” I said, opening the front door for him. He hesitated only a moment before stuffing his hands in his pockets and leaving.
I gently shut the door behind him, dropping my forehead to the cool wood panel, my hand still gripping the doorknob.
“Do you know what you’re doing?” Elaina asked quietly behind me.
I shook my head, not bothering to look up at her or even open my eyes. “No. But do I ever?”
I hiccupped and swallowed the tide of tears rising once more. “I think he’s right. I need to be alone for a while. I need to learn how to deal with things on my own without always calling in reinforcements for help.”
Elaina nodded. “Maybe. Just don’t harden your heart too much. The fact that you allow yourself to be vulnerable with your friends and family is a really good trait, too, Chloe. Don’t let Liam convince you that it isn’t.”
Sugarlips (Beefcakes Book 2) Page 27