Winter Bloom (Dating Season Book 4)

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Winter Bloom (Dating Season Book 4) Page 2

by Laurelin Paige


  “Um”—my mouth goes dry—“it just seems like the responsible thing...”

  “Water?” Violet, that angel among mortals, is forgiven for her wisecrack.

  I gulp the cool liquid but still feel like I have cotton stuffed in my mouth. “Okay, so, the kiss…you were drunk.”

  There. I did it. And it was just as excruciating as I imagined.

  He leans back in his chair, dark eyes narrowed. “I was, and you were tipsy and feeling vulnerable from your most recent breakup. Even though I won’t miss that guy.”

  I nod. “Right. And you were missing Lucy. Not that you’re spending too much time with her.”

  Some rational part of me realizes we’re making excuses for each other…but not for ourselves.

  “Yeah, and you had a rough six months from that dating site with losers and it probably felt good to finally spend time with someone who really knows you.”

  My eyes narrow too now, at his dig. “It will not happen again, obviously,” I say. “We’ll laugh about this later.”

  Neither of us laughs.

  “I’m glad we got that straightened out,” he says, running a hand through his hair, “but actually, I wanted to talk to you about something else.”

  Wait.

  Was the kiss not on his mind all this time? Did it mean nothing to him? Was I the only one playing and replaying it in my mind? I shouldn’t even be thinking that when he has a girlfriend. A really nice, shiny-haired girlfriend. I really wish my heart had morals. Morals and armor.

  “Okay, what’s up?” I ask when I’m sure my voice won’t tremble.

  “We have to renew the lease on our place on Valentine’s Day.”

  My brows raise. “Charlotte’s wedding day?”

  “Yeah. I know it’s a hassle, but we just have to swing by the leasing office before we head over to the venue.”

  “I bet I can just renew online. Don’t worry. I won’t forget. I wouldn’t leave you in the lurch like that.”

  “The thing is, I’ve…decided not to renew. I’m going to move in with Lucy.”

  My amoral heart flops onto the floor. Everyone continues moving around me, oblivious to the fact that my world has just stopped.

  “That’s unexpected. You’re moving into her place?” I pray my face doesn’t show the devastation inside me.

  “Yeah. For now, then we’ll figure it out.”

  I nod, because I don’t trust myself to speak. The kiss wasn’t just nothing to him. It reminded him that he only ever wants to kiss Lucy, all the time. This is the worst possible outcome. And I hadn’t even considered it. I’m such an idiot.

  He leans forward. “Listen…I know this is sudden, but if you don’t want to keep the place, Lucy knows a guy who can help you find something.”

  That’s more than I can handle. Me giving her guilty help was one thing, but her giving me guilty help would be mortifying. “Oh, I know a guy, too. Roger can help me, if I decide to find somewhere new.”

  “The Uber guy?”

  “Yeah. I really lucked out with him. He dabbles in real estate. And he’s helped me a lot and now I can help him by giving him my business.” I force a smile.

  “I’m sorry,” he says. “I, uh…”

  “It’s fine.”

  “You sure?”

  “Mm-hmm. It’s for the best.”

  His dark eyes study me, and I hold his gaze with sheer willpower as my insides shriek into the void. “Okay”—he stands—“I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Sounds wonderful.” I grab my to-go bag and scoot away from the table. Maybe a little too fast, because his hand shoots out to rest on mine.

  “You okay?” he says.

  “Of course. I’m always okay.” The floor seems to shrink in size as I weave through the tables full of happy people and dart from the restaurant. As soon as I’m out of sight, I drop my lunch in the trash, because I feel like I have rocks in my stomach. Rocks. Ha.

  My phone buzzes, interrupting my meltdown.

  Almost finished with your website. Wanna come over and check it out? Ryan’s message reads.

  I do! I reply with a lying exclamation point.

  We work out the time, and I stand for a moment watching snowflakes fall around me. How fitting my crush truly dies in winter.

  “Chloe, stop crying,” Roger says. “You are not a low-down dirty hussy.”

  “You’re just saying that because you’re too nice to agree.”

  “No, I’m not. I’ve done all kinds of things I regret, too.”

  “That’s completely different! Men are allowed to make mistakes. Me, I’ve become the villain of my own story. This is my origin. Why must doing one bad thing make you a bad person forever?”

  “It absolutely does not. What’s that saying? Let those without sin cast the first stone?”

  Stone. Ha again. Guess the joke’s on me, FriendsOfFriends marketing department, because now that’s all I can think of.

  “It’s okay. I shouldn’t lay my troubles on you.”

  “It’s not okay. People make mistakes. Did you learn a lesson?”

  “Yeah,” I say. “A hard one.”

  “Good. Don’t repeat it. Lots of people just keep repeating mistakes thinking they’ll get a different outcome. You won’t. It’s good he’s moving out so you can stop letting him cock-block you from finding your own happiness.” His eyes meet mine in the mirror. “Sorry, if that’s offensive. I’m never sure what’s okay to say anymore.”

  “I’m not offended.” I wipe the tears from my cheeks as he pulls in front of Ryan’s building. “And I appreciate you, Roger. I feel it’s important to say that. Thank you.”

  “No problem.” He smiles. “You’re a good egg, Chloe. I can tell.”

  “Really?” That comforts me, because Roger is good people and I’d like to think I am too.

  “Yep. Don’t forget to rate me.”

  Good people.

  He drives away, and I take a moment to pull myself together before I enter the lobby. I’m feeling slightly better by the time I knock on Ryan’s door.

  “Hey,” Ryan says. “Hope you’re ready to be dazzled.”

  “The beard is back. I’m already dazzled,” I tease, stepping inside.

  “Yeah. My face was too cold.”

  He takes my coat and directs me to sit at his desk.

  “Hope you like it.” He leans over my shoulder to open the website adorned with Mae’d With Love’s logo he designed.

  I squee for the first time in my life. “I love it. The heart. The rolling pin for the L. It’s beautiful.”

  “Best part? You’ve got orders.”

  “What? No way?”

  “Yeah, I made it live.” He clicks to an orders tab and I gasp when I see the mug with hot chocolate orders. “I made a question when they order, about how did they find out about you and all the ones who answered said Scarlet Letter.”

  I’ll be damned. Villainy does pay. I explain my newfound life of semi-crime, from Austin to Lucy to Will to my impending homelessness.

  “I’m sorry,” he says. “That’s…a lot.”

  “It’ll be okay.” I smile. “Wow. I’m a real businessperson. Riding my controversy to success like a motorcycle club. Thank you so much. How much do I owe you?”

  “I’m sure we can…figure something out.” He turns his head and arches a brow.

  “Are you soft-core porning me?” Those are basically the romance novels of the male world, so I am both flattered and intrigued.

  “If you’re up for that? I can help you grieve your lost love and you can help me grieve mine.”

  “Yours?”

  “Bud is engaged.”

  I twine our fingers together. “Oh, no. I wish I could make it better. It sucks, huh?”

  “Yeah, it does. So wanna use that friends with benefits card?”

  What’s a friend with benefits, if you don’t use the benefits part? I turn in my chair, ready to move forward with my life. “I’m up for that.”

&n
bsp; “It’ll be a fucking funeral. Get it? Like a funeral where we fu—”

  “I get it. Is that too morbid?”

  “Maybe, but we’re Halloween people. We’re always a little morbid. Plus, we can do it here, where the website was created, to celebrate new beginnings.”

  “On the desk?”

  He nods.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Mm.” He spins my chair to face him. “You’re like my naughty secretary.”

  “Maybe I’m your boss,” I say, heady with power since I have a website with orders. “And you’re my naughty graphic designer.”

  He unzips my hoodie and palms my breasts. “So what do you want me to do?”

  “Actually, you be the boss and I’ll be the assistant. With my luck, the imaginary human resources department would walk in and fire me.” That’s code for his mother, obviously.

  He grins and unzips his jeans, freeing an already hard cock. “Take your clothes off.”

  I stand and shed my Scarlet Letter hoodie, letting my mistakes fall to the floor with it. Each piece of clothing I discard earns a stroke of Ryan’s hand.

  He pats the desk, and I hop onto it. “Wanna pay your last respects?”

  I shake my head no, because if I do, I might cry.

  “Do you?”

  A storm brews in his gray eyes. “No.”

  He retrieves a condom from the desk drawer and rolls it on his thick length. There’s no lingering foreplay this time. He captures my lips and kisses me until I’m wet and enters me on a rough thrust. As he slams into me, I cling to him, letting the emotions roll through me. Shock and anger beat against my thumping heart until it completely breaks. Sweat and tears mix in grief on my cheeks as Ryan drives into me. He trails kisses along my collarbone, comforting me as our bodies mourn the loss of people who found happiness elsewhere. Each stroke of his dick digs deeper, unearthing my orgasm.

  “Yeah, come for me,” he says.

  As my body floats toward heaven, soft as rose petals, Ryan scatters kisses across my shoulder blade and I bury my crush.

  When I leave, I feel like I’m finally moving in the right direction and promise myself I’ll leave my wicked ways behind. I’ll repay the band for the hoodie, and maybe do a good deed of some sort.

  Three

  “They started without us,” a disappointed voice pipes into the It’s Clay Time classroom. “Now I can’t give Lucas my heart.”

  I turn from helping my Saturday kid group and wow, what a small clown world. Logan stands in the doorway, holding the hand of a little girl with an enormous pink bow in her crooked dark ponytail.

  “Hi,” I say. “You must be Prudence.”

  She nods and I walk closer, hiding my shock like a pro. Goodness knows I’ve had a lot of practice.

  “Sorry we’re late,” Logan says, removing his black beanie. “We had to find the right bow. I’m sure you understand.”

  “Completely. Bows are important.” I smile. “You didn’t miss much. We just started ten minutes ago.” I look down at Prudence. “You ready to join us?”

  She nods, shrinking into Logan’s jean-clad leg, resting her adorable head against his thigh. “This is my Uncle Logan,” she says. “He’s nervous and would like to stay with me.”

  “Oh, I see. I’m sure we can find space for him. But there’s no need for him to be nervous.”

  “I’m shy,” Logan says with a grin.

  He’s anything other than shy, but it’s so charming that he will play along to appease her—okay, sexy—I beam back at him. “Well, no need to be shy in here. Follow me.”

  While they hang their coats in the cubby, I remove two black aprons from the hook on the wall.

  “You can put these on to protect your clothes.”

  “Uncle Logan wears an apron when he cooks,” Prudence says, slipping it over her head. “It says Mr. Good Lookin’ Is Cookin’.”

  “Hey now,” he chides her. “Can we save some of my secrets?” He peers down at me and whispers, “I’m a superb cook, by the way.”

  “Me too. I make fantastic sandwiches.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, I regret conjuring up how I learned said culinary skill.

  “Love a good sandwich,” he says. “I make an impressive salami sandwich.”

  “I…” Finally, I find a filter and realize the implications of saying hard salami makes the best sandwich before the words exit my mouth. “I guess we should get started.”

  “You ready, Pru?” he says.

  She bounces on her tiptoes, and they follow behind me. I’d really like to thank him for what he did for my business, but I’ll have to wait because the tiny humans are getting restless. Within a few minutes, I have Logan and Prudence set up at their workspace, spinning clay. The clay is quick-dry today and once they shape their hearts, I flit between the kids, passing out paint to decorate their Valentine’s Day creations.

  Every time I sneak a peek at Logan, because it’s impossible to not ogle him, he catches me.

  When I can’t resist the urge any longer, I wipe my sweaty palms on my apron and step behind his broad shoulder to admire…his hair. It’s disheveled perfection. His clean, tantalizing scent wafts into my nose, and I step away.

  “My heart is broken,” Ben says with a pout.

  I move over to check out his problem. “No. It’s just a tiny crack.” You’ll have many more, little guy.

  “Broken hearts are the best kind, bud,” Logan says. “Whoever you give it to will know to take good care of it.”

  Gah. That should be written in the universe by-laws.

  “My mom has a screensaver that says there are three things you should never break…trust, promises, and someone’s heart,” Ben says.

  “She’s a wise woman,” I say.

  “Well, if I give this to her, she’s going to be disappointed.”

  “No way,” I tell him.

  “You can paint a cool arrow over it,” Logan says. “I painted drumsticks on mine.”

  Ben thinks this is a good idea and resumes painting with a wide grin.

  “I like your L,” I tell Pru. “I’m guessing that’s for Lucas?”

  She nods. “Lucas is my best friend,” she whispers. “He likes Hannah, but I’m still going to give him my heart.”

  I crouch down beside her and whisper back, “Ya know, hearts are really, really special. Especially one this beautiful. Maybe you should keep it? Give it to someone who will treasure it?”

  Her life flashes before my eyes. Grown up and believing Lucas will come to his senses and realize she’s perfect for him. He doesn’t. Do not give your heart away to Lucas until he ditches Hannah. I want to impress this upon her, but I don’t have time because Logan whispers, “Who is second in line after Lucas?”

  “Sebastian.”

  “That was a trick question,” he says back. “Where did all these boys come from?”

  Pru giggles. So darn cute. There’s something extremely attractive about a man who is good with kids. Like I don’t even have to imagine drummer babies because it’s right before my eyes. Not that I was even going to imagine that.

  I move away and when we finish class, Logan walks over to me as Pru waits in line to have her heart wrapped.

  “So, this is what Chloe does for a living, huh?”

  “Yeah. Mae’d With Love is my side gig.”

  “Suits you,” he says.

  I place a hand on his arm. “Listen, I wanted to thank you for the good things you said in the article about my company. Because of you and Will, I got a bunch of online orders.”

  “That’s awesome. It was the truth, though. That stuff is magic in a cup.” His eyes trail over my face.

  “I’m glad you liked it.” My hand tingles when I remove it. “I guess I should get back to work.”

  “We have a gig tonight. You should stop by.”

  He tells me where it’s at and I nod, but hold back any promises. Pru skips over and when they leave hand in hand, I kind of wish the old Chloe who makes rash de
cisions would reappear.

  Granny Mae always says, “Pay your debts or be a bum.” So I hit the ATM and wait for Drummer Boy to finish his set so I can pay him and repay my debt. I considered bringing him some cocoa, for the good deed portion of my redemption. As he signs autographs, I slip closer, into a corner, and wait for him to finish with his fans.

  “Are you waiting for the band to sign something?” a female voice asks.

  I turn to see a raven-haired sprite with hazel eyes.

  “Not exactly. I’m waiting for Logan.”

  “Does he know you?”

  “I believe so? I nearly murdered his lead singer. Surely that doesn’t happen too often.”

  “Lucky for me, no.” She smiles. “I’m Belinda, Will’s wife. I used to work with Lucy, once upon a time.”

  I’ve seen your husband’s wiener, I think, before it hits me. She is Boring Belinda! Live and in the flesh.

  “I’m Com—” I stop myself just in time. “Chloe.” We shake hands.

  “Nice to meet you. You work with Lucy?”

  “No. I just helped her out with the VIP room for the band. She’s dating my roommate.”

  “Ah.” She looks over at the band. “She must have met him after I left.”

  “What made you leave?”

  “Once I met Will, I decided I’d rather write songs than PR campaigns. My parents freaked because we’re so opposite, but life is too short to waste with people that don’t interest you.”

  Wow, Belinda isn’t boring; she’s bold.

  I’d love to hear more of her story, but someone calls her name, and she turns to leave. “It was nice to meet you. Tell Lucy I said hi.”

  “Will do.”

  She saunters away but stops to whisper something to Logan. He looks over at me and a slow grin appears on his handsome face. When he finishes up, he prowls toward me with quick strides. I feel like prey, and I like it. Means I’m not a predator. Also, he’s hot.

  “Hey,” he says. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

  “Hi.” I hold out the cash I withdrew to cover the cost of the sweatshirt, plus a tip. Then I make a bold decision of my own. My good deed will be for myself. “Here is your money and also...would you be interested in grabbing a drink sometime?” I’m super proud of myself, asking a guy out all on my own without an app, or Charlotte.

 

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