“I knew it.” I shake my head. “Mason freaking Kinner.”
Across from me, Chloe giggles. God, she’s beautiful. Her cheeks have been stained pink the entire evening, probably because of how much laughing we’ve done. Her eyes shine like emeralds, all glitter and wonder. I have to force myself to keep my eyes trained on her face because the way her dress wraps around her curves would distract me from dinner in an instant.
Not for the first time, I both despise and am grateful to Steve. What an idiot. He’s going to regret losing the love of a good woman like Chloe for the rest of his life. And, as much as I can’t stand Mason Kinner from high school, at least I can admit his good sense in kissing Chloe at Homecoming our freshman year.
Chloe wrinkles her nose. “I was pretty old by the time I had my first kiss. Honestly, I would have given it to anyone just to get it over with.”
I laugh and pick up my wine glass. We changed to wine for dinner but I know the night is far from over and I’ll be ordering another cocktail soon. This night can easily stretch to dawn and it wouldn’t be enough time to learn all the things I want to learn about Chloe.
“Who was yours?” she asks.
I duck my head.
“Oh no,” she groans, and I can’t imagine all the faces flipping through her mind.
“Allie Canes.”
Her mouth drops open and she jabs her pointer finger at me. “Savannah’s best friend!”
I snort, rolling my lips together as I nod.
“Was it Truth or Dare?” she asks.
“Nope. Just a regular night. She was sleeping at our house and we were both up late. Vanny had fallen asleep so Allie and I were just watching a movie and…” I shrug.
“You kissed her.”
“She kissed me.” I set the record straight. “I was so surprised and then I couldn’t believe my good fortune.”
We both laugh again.
Our server appears at the end of our table and asks if we’d like to order dessert.
“Do you have doughnuts?” I ask before Chloe can order.
Chloe snorts and orders a tiramisu and an espresso martini. I tack on a cheesecake and a Bailey’s. Leaning back in my chair, I grin at the beautiful woman sitting across from me.
My whole childhood is tangled up with hers. So sure, I would look at her and feel all sorts of affection and concern. But this summer, it’s all changed. She’s not just a little girl crying about skinned knees or a pre-teen I pranked on a beach trip. Now, Chloe Crawford is all woman and I want to be the man worthy of her attention and affection.
I want to be man enough for her.
Our conversation continues to flow as easily as our drinks. When I bring Chloe into my bed later in the evening, I do so with the understanding that we’re taking another step forward. I’ve confided in her, she’s been honest with me, and our relationship is growing.
Chloe does so willingly, with trust outshining the vulnerability in her gaze, with sweetness overshadowing the sass of her mouth, with all the feelings that usually scare me away, bringing me closer.
After a night spent exploring Chloe’s body, a morning feeding her French toast and horsing around over mugs of coffee, I’m on cloud nine.
All the things I’ve been searching for—acceptance, understanding, forgiveness—can be found in her deep green eyes and knowing smirk.
We walk into my parents’ kitchen for weekly, Sunday night dinner, holding hands and our parents clap and whistle like I just announced that Chloe’s pregnant. Nothing would make my mother or Diane happier than to become grandmothers. At the same time.
Claire grins and passes Chloe a wine glass. Indy’s telling anyone who will listen that she’d like credit for setting up yet another perfect couple. Even Easton, who’s usually more reserved, lets loose with a loud whistle.
“It’s about damn time.” Dad clasps me on the shoulder.
“About time? Chloe’s been back in Boston since June,” I respond.
“I always knew from when you two were kids,” Dad says, going on and on about Chlo’s and my childhood adventures as if he could have predicted this outcome.
Mom winks when I catch her eye and raises her glass to me in silent cheers.
My family is seriously prouder in this moment than the night the Hawks won the Stanley Cup. My chest tightens uncomfortably at the thought of the Cup, at the realization that I’ll be gearing up for training camps in a few more weeks, at the reality that’s waiting for me.
This summer, the events, Chloe, have been one hell of a good time. They’ve been a much-needed time out from the constant pressure I feel buried under. But now, reality is waiting and I don’t want to meet it. I glance at my girl, enjoying how content she is chatting with my sister and cousin.
I take a swig of the beer Noah slid in my hand and grin at my family and friends. I tuck Chloe under my arm and relax a little, try to enjoy the boisterous noise of the Merricks and Crawfords and Scotch brothers surrounding me.
“Oh, Panda will sort it all out,” my sister says and I tune back into the conversation unfolding around me.
“Panda will sort what out?” I ask.
Easton snickers. “Your girl’s best friend is coming to visit next weekend.”
“The bachelorette party,” I recall.
“Yep.” Chloe smiles. “Abbi can’t wait to visit Boston and she wants a night out with all of you guys. Preferably some singles thrown in.”
Indy rolls her eyes. “Trust me, Panda may be all the single she can handle.”
“Sims will come,” Noah tacks on.
“Let’s try to convince James,” Claire adds. “He needs to get out more.”
I nod, biting down hard. My worry increases the moment James Ryan is mentioned. Losing his wife destroyed him. Even though he’s been making strides in his personal life, even coming out to Taps the other week, he’s been in a year-long struggle to make sense of the senselessness of it all while trying to single-parent twins.
“He was chatting up that bartender the other night,” Indy says, catching my attention.
“See? This is why it’s good when one of us doesn’t drink.” Claire smiles. “Did he look happy-ish?”
Indy purses her lips as if she’s thinking it over. “He didn’t seem so…intensely sad.”
“All right, James comes next weekend,” Chloe decides. “Abbi pulled me through all the shit with Steve. She’s been working her ass off and I owe her an epic, all-out, Boston weekend.”
Noah nods. “Consider it done, Chlo. We’ll round up the team. When’s your bachelorette?”
“Friday night,” Chloe responds.
“Then make sure you’re not too hungover to properly enjoy Saturday night,” Easton snickers.
Chloe grins and raises her glass. “To next weekend.”
The whole group cheers and I don’t miss the way Mom’s and Diane’s smiles widen. At everyone’s effortless happiness, some of the anxiety I try to keep at bay crawls back in, pulling in my chest.
This seems too good to be true. Too easy, too natural, too damn fun.
I draw in a deep breath and tighten my hold on Chloe. Dropping a kiss to the top of her head, I try to embrace this moment. But still, my worry lingers.