by Gina Azzi
“You may if he puts his hands on her.”
My grip on the steering wheel tightens and my teeth click together. I take a moment to consider my words and Easton’s irritating chuckle irks me. “Stop. That’s not going to happen.” I sound more like I’m trying to convince myself.
“I don’t know, Aus. I still remember you from high school. So does Chloe. And in high school, you were a hell of a lot more hot-tempered. Back then, we were troublemakers.”
“I’ve grown up,” I remind him, recalling all the stupid stunts I pulled in high school. There was the time I convinced the hockey team to cover all the hallway floors in bubble wrap, creating chaos as several hundred students swarmed the corridors after homeroom. And another incident involving tinfoil, confetti, balloons, and the coach’s office. I snort, recalling my high school coach’s surprised expression before he cracked and laughed. But there were also a handful of locker room pranks that went awry and ended with me coming to blows with hockey players from rival teams.
In hindsight, I’m lucky I never got slapped with so much as a detention for some of the pranks I pulled off, even though they were mostly harmless. But I don’t do stupid shit like that anymore. Not as team captain and certainly not when I’m looking out for one of my childhood friends. “Look, Chloe’s a great girl. I’ve known her my entire life. Of course I stepped in to help her out, but things aren’t like that between us. Wouldn’t you do the same if my sister had asked you a few years ago?”
Now Easton’s laughter is full blown and I frown at the speakers.
“Yeah, man,” he finally guffaws. “That’s what I’m saying. I would have jumped at the chance to be alone for the weekend with Claire, my best friend’s little sister, while swearing to everyone that it meant nothing. Now look, we’re living together and I gotta go because your sister is baking brownies.”
I groan at Easton’s point and disconnect the call, but not quickly enough because his laughter rings through. Blowing out a sigh, I take the exit ramp. Ever since last weekend, my entire family has been giving me knowing glances whenever Chloe’s name is brought up. Even Savannah asked about her when she called Mom and Dad’s and I picked up the phone. They’re all driving me nuts, acting like I’m doing something so out of character by agreeing to be Chloe’s date. Which is crazy, and frankly, insulting, because I’m a nice guy who would help out any of my friends if they needed me. Right?
I helped get East into rehab. I helped Indy move into her tenement apartment. I helped Noah sell his house when he didn’t marry his ex-fiancée, Courtney. I helped James after Layla passed…
I frown. Other than my cousin and sisters, do I hang out with any women I’m not hooking up with? The realization slams into me as I stop at a red light. I have no female friends.
None.
There’re only four categories. Women I’ve hooked up with. Women I want to hook up with. Women who don’t register on my radar. And the women in my family who I’d do anything for.
And Chloe. Chloe is the fifth category because she doesn’t fit into any of the others. I mean, she kind of fits into women I want to hook up with because how could any red-blooded male look at Chloe and not want to hook up with her? And she kind of fits into the women of my family because I’d do anything for her. But I still want to kiss her and…
I shake my head. I’m going to junk punch Easton for filling my mind with these dumb thoughts and ideas moments before I see Chloe. There’s nothing between us. We’re childhood friends. That’s it. And isn’t it nice that I have one childhood, female friend? That after all these years, I didn’t fuck everything up between us by pranking her or sleeping with her and never calling?
I turn onto the Crawfords’ street.
This weekend is going to be fun. Chloe and I will reminisce about old times. We’ll hang out and piss off her short-sighted ex-fiancé. But I’m not taking her to a party to cause trouble, or start something between us, or do anything other than what she needs in this moment. To help her save face.
I pull up to the Crawfords’ house and all the thoughts swirling in my mind still. Because Chloe is already standing out front, lifting her hand in greeting, a smile stretching across her face, looking like the most breathtaking woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.
How does she do that? Look so effortless all the time while still looking perfect.
Does she always smile so brightly? At everyone?
I heave out a sigh. Easton sucks.
I step out of the car and wave to Chloe. “You that eager to get on the road?” I gesture to the small rolling suitcase beside her and the garment bag draped over her arm.
She glances over her shoulder and then bounds down the porch steps, her suitcase banging behind her. “We need to get out of here before Mom gets off the phone with Mimi.”
“That so?” I ask, amused. The Crawfords and my family have been friends for a long time. So long, that I forgot they are the only family I know as batshit crazy as my own.
Chloe nods, turning to look at the house again. “Yes. Otherwise, Mom will make you come inside and insist on feeding us lunch. She will grill you for a solid hour about your dating life, maybe sprinkle one or two hockey questions in there to be polite—”
I laugh.
“And field several phone calls that will all be Mimi, adding her own questions to the list. By the time they’re done, Dad will be coming in and then you’ll go through the whole ordeal again, but this time it will be all hockey questions with one or two general wellness ones to appease Mom.”
I grin at Chloe, noting the color in her cheeks, the amusement mixed with a dash of worry, in her eyes.
“So we make a run for it?” I surmise.
“We make a run for it.”
I grab the handle of her suitcase and her garment bag, and pop the trunk of my SUV. While I stow her belongings next to mine, she slips into the passenger seat. The front curtains shift as I slide into the driver’s seat.
“Quick! She’s spotted us,” Chloe orders, looking straight head.
I snort, glancing at the house. “Are you sure you—”
“Drive!” Chloe’s hand darts out to cover mine on the steering wheel. “Go!”
The front door swings open just as I flip the ignition.
“Chloe!” Diane waves as we pull away.
I glance at her in my rearview mirror, grinning as Diane’s expression collapses in laughter.
A second later, Chloe’s phone rings and she groans.
“Mama?” she answers. “Yes, yes I know. No, it’s not that. It’s just, we want to beat the weekend traffic. Be on the road by two. Of course. I know.” She giggles and glances at me. “Yes, I’ll tell him. Okay. Love you too. ‘Bye.”
She hangs up and leans back in the seat.
“How’s Diane?” I ask, biting my cheek to keep from cracking up. It’s so silly, really. But sneaking away without saying goodbye to Diane is something Chloe and I did a thousand times, what feels like a thousand years ago. We were always taking off on our moms. Now, I’d never think to do something like that. Unless I’m with Chlo, apparently.
“She wants me to remind you that we only drink sophisticated cocktails this weekend, that I’m partial to lobster, not shrimp, and that if you pulverize Steve and need to be bailed out, Dad’s happy to pay the fee.”
I toss my head back and laugh as I pull back onto the highway. “Easton said the same thing. I don’t know why everyone thinks I’m going to get in a fight.”
“High school.” Chloe shrugs.
“Did I really fight that much?” I glance at her. I remember being rowdy in high school, but not wild.
She bites her bottom lip and I can’t help but notice the flush that works over her face. “No,” she says finally. “You fought when you felt you needed to and I always thought your reasoning was sound.”
“Thank you.”
“But it was more often than anyone else on your team. Or in our entire school,” she admits and we both laugh.
“Ugh,” Chloe groans, shifting in her seat. “Mom was never Steve’s biggest fan and all of this, with the engagement and Brittney, really drove the point home. I know Mom’s reacting the way she is because she hates to see me hurting…but she even called up his mother.”
“No,” I gasp, looking at Chloe who sinks down in her seat.
“Oh yeah.”
“Damn. My respect for Diane just multiplied.”
“Don’t encourage her bad behavior when you see her.”
“How’d that conversation go?” I ask, wondering how Chloe’s been managing the fallout of her engagement.
She rolls her eyes and tucks her feet beneath her. “About as well as you’d expect. Mom went on about how careless and hurtful Steve treated me and Steve’s mom lashed out, saying I clearly wasn’t the right girl for her son.” She scrubs her hand over her face and glances out the window. “I know her heart was in the right place but it made everything even more…humiliating.”
“She’s just looking out.” I reach over to squeeze Chloe’s arm. “It’s what family does.”
“Yeah, I know.” She shifts again, toward me this time, her elbow landing on the center console. “And how’s your family been looking out?” Chloe gives me a knowing glance.
I know she’s reaching for a lighter topic of conversation so I play along and groan out, “Don’t even get me started. It’s like my whole family’s mission is to set me up.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Mom surprised me for breakfast last month, right in the middle of Cup Finals, and pretended to be utterly shocked when she found a woman with me. Then, she invited her to breakfast with us so they could ‘get to know each other.’”
“No!” Chloe’s mouth drops open. “Oh my God, Aus.” She laughs loudly.
I grin at her, loving how uninhibited her laughter is. She snorts, clapping a hand over her mouth and I chuckle.
“What did the girl say?” Chloe asks.
“It was the most uncomfortable morning-after breakfast ever. Mainly because there shouldn’t have been a breakfast at all.”
She shakes her head, the dimple in her left cheek making an appearance. “That’s rough. If it makes you feel better, the week after Steve and I called it quits, Mom tried to set me up with her tennis coach.”
“She was obvious about it, wasn’t she?”
“She told him I like to wear short skirts, even when I’m not playing tennis.”
“Oh shit. Diane may give Mary a run for her money.” I slide my hand over the top of the steering wheel. “They’re two peas in a pod.”
“It’s bound to get worse now that they’re together again. They’ll be encouraging each other’s scheming ways.”
“Shit,” I say again, realizing Chloe’s right. “We’re in for it this summer then.”
“I know.” Chloe tucks her feet back up again and sighs. She plugs her phone into my USB cord and flips through it, looking for a playlist. “I have my cousin Sara’s wedding next month too.” She glances at me. “My family I can handle but I’m relieved you’re coming to Marissa and Adam’s wedding.”
“Don’t mention it. I have a gala in September that Mom’s already started asking details about.”
Chloe glances up at me. “What kind of gala?”
“It’s for hockey. I’m…” I trail off, shooting her a sheepish grin.
She lifts her eyebrows, waiting for me to continue.
“I’m receiving an award,” I admit, feeling silly.
Chloe’s expression brightens and she squeezes my bicep. “Really? Congratulations, Aus. What’s it for?”
“Some programs I sponsor for kids in the community. It’s not a big deal.”
Something shifts in Chloe’s expression but I turn my eyes back to the road before I read into it. “Don’t tell Mary that,” she jokes.
“Exactly.”
“Well, I think it’s pretty incredible. Congrats.”
I tip my head in thanks. We sit in silence for a few minutes and I can’t help but turn some ideas over in my mind.
Here we are, Chloe and me. I’ve seen her once or twice in fifteen years and yet, right now, it’s like no time has passed at all. Things are natural, easy between us. They always have been. What if she didn’t have to find a date to her cousin’s wedding? And what if I didn’t have to ward off Mom’s attempts at setting me up for the next few months? What if Chloe and I went to our summer events together? Our parents would be over the moon, our mothers would certainly rein in their matchmaking attempts. I’m certain I’d have a much better time with Chloe than I would forcing small talk with women I’m not interested in but obliged to see because my mom made some ridiculous promise to their mothers.
“Chlo?” I turn toward her.
“Hmm?” She glances up from her phone.
“What if we do each other’s summer events? I’ll go to the weddings with you and you come to the gala with me and—”
“Our moms stop setting us up with strangers?” She catches on fast.
“Exactly. We just…” I pause, meeting her eyes. “Keep it casual. Fun.”
“Yes! Oh God, Austin, that would be ideal. Are you sure, though? Because I have a lot more events. Two weddings,” she reminds me, holding up two fingers. “And Marissa’s is in New York.”
“That’s fine.” I wave a hand. “I love New York. I’ll get to see Vanny and Mike.”
“That’s right! I wish I had seen Savannah more but we only managed a few lunches this past year.”
“So, you’re in?” I ask.
“I’m totally in,” she agrees enthusiastically, relief rippling over her expression. “Now, how do you feel about this?” She presses a button on her phone and the opening of Chingy’s “Right Thurr” floods the speakers.
“Oh shit.” I shake my head, recalling our freshman Valentine’s Day dance. “Do you remember when Frankie Morello tried to do the worm to this—”
“And chipped his front tooth?” Chloe laughs. “Yes. What about when Mason—”
“Kinner,” I snarl.
“He wasn’t that bad. He spiked the punch.”
“He was always trying to get in your pants,” I tell her, switching lanes.
She tosses her head back and laughs. “Right, because all of the girls following your every move had the purest of intentions.”
“I never looked at anyone twice.”
Chloe lifts an eyebrow.
“What? I was all about hockey in high school,” I say, defensively.
“That’s not what I heard.”
“What’d you hear?” I glance over at her.
“Oh, so many things, Austin Merrick. You were the talk of the girls’ bathroom.”
I groan, imagining how many rumors were started in those stalls.
“None of it’s true,” I joke, holding up a hand.
“None of it?” Chloe raises an eyebrow in challenge, a smirk on her lips.
For a second, the air in the car intensifies and I desperately want to know the thoughts running in her mind to make her eyes darken like that. From sage to hunter green.
But then she laughs and I grin and the tension breaks over us like a wave. Chloe’s laughter is infectious and I can’t help but join in as we both start dancing to Chingy, Chloe the same way she did in high school.
Lamely. With absolutely zero rhythm.
It’s more endearing than it should be.
6
Chloe
The summer breeze whips through the cracked windows as Austin and I drive to Martha’s Vineyard. It’s just after five when we pull into the hotel parking lot and I take a deep breath to settle my nerves.
“You okay?” Austin turns off his SUV.
I nod, biting my lip. The hotel is warm and inviting, with a wraparound porch and large windows. It’s perched right on the beach and styled simply, in an understated manner that hints at old money. I glimpse the oc
ean and my childhood comes rushing back. The walks along the beach Mimi and I used to take, searching for seashells and sea glass and treasure.
I was so excited about Marissa’s engagement party because I wanted to share this part of my childhood with Steve. I wanted to hold his hand and walk down the beach and point out parts of my past that I still cling to because memories made with Mimi are still my favorite. An ache throbs, deep in my chest, and I press my fingertips to the center of my breastbone. What was I even thinking? When has Steve ever shown the slightest interest in my family?
“Chloe?” Austin’s voice is low beside me.
I turn toward him just as he clasps my wrist, his hand strong and steady. His skin is warm and his touch sends a zing up my arm.
I meet his gaze and pull in an inhale, trying to force my thoughts in a new direction. One that isn’t centered on everything I think I lost but on the future. The one that is supposed to be brimming with new opportunities and endless possibilities.
My eyes fill with tears instead and I drop my head, mortified. Why am I acting like this? Steve and I are over. I wouldn’t take him back now if he begged me and yet…
“Tell me what’s wrong, Sunshine,” Austin murmurs, tossing out my childhood nickname.
I half snort, half laugh, my emotions surging at the familiarity of it. “No one has called me that in years.”
“No one has known you as long as I have.”
I look up again, falling headfirst into Austin’s blue eyes, as deep and dangerous as an iceberg.
“Tell me,” he prods.
I release a shaky exhale. “Sometimes, I don’t know if I’m mourning the end of Steve and me, or the death of the future I imagined for us. What’s even worse is I think I’m having a harder time moving past the idea of him. The concept of having a person to share my past and future with and knowing, really knowing, that they’ll be there for it all. Not just because they have to be but because they truly want to be. For me.” My fingertips dig into my chest again, as if to alleviate some of the hurt building there. “Isn’t that awful?” I whisper.
Compassion blazes across Austin’s expression as a tenderness I’ve never witnessed him wear flares in his eyes. The corner of his mouth turns up in a wry grin and he leans closer, tucking my hair behind my ear. I hold his gaze as his fingers brush along my jaw, stopping to grasp my chin. He angles my face toward his and shakes his head. “It’s not awful that you’re human, Chlo. We all want to find that person, the one we can trust with everything, the one we can rely on, the one that we know has our backs. There’s nothing bad about that.”