Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95606 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95606 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Frankly, Chloe was a little nervous that Sofia hadn’t done something more drastic to manipulate Chloe into moving back to Darien. She’d expected fireworks by now.
Or a bomb.
Maybe love had softened Sofia? Was that too much to hope for? Chloe had never, ever seen her mother this close to content. She’d called Chloe that very afternoon on cloud nine, thanks to Harvey signing them up for surprise salsa dancing lessons.
Yet here was Chloe, down in Boston, fantasizing about Harvey’s son. Nightly.
Sometimes hourly.
Wishing and praying and obsessing over the possibility that Sig would give in one of these nights and kiss her again, like he had that night on the golf course. Just maul her to death. Honestly, she would leave the earth willingly at this point, if she could just feel his tongue in her mouth again, his grip in her hair. To have him unrestrained around her.
Sig was so controlled.
A good thing. A necessary thing.
On top of their parents being in love and getting married, Chloe was killing it at the conservatory. Opportunities were already beginning to open up for her, but those doors would slam closed if word got around that she was in a foggy, undefined relationship with someone related to her by marriage. Sig’s profession put him in the spotlight as well, as evidenced by a reporter approaching her from the Globe. What if she hurt his standing with the team?
Obviously, what happened the night they met couldn’t happen again. They were best friends. Some might say they were way too friendly. They probably needed to back off a little. And they would!
Eventually.
Chloe had kept her feelings to herself somewhat out of shame, somewhat from denial that they were doing anything wrong. Everyone had a different definition of wrong. Right? At the moment, however, with possessiveness gluing her to the plastic seat, the words “Boston’s Most Eligible Bachelor” ringing in her ears, she couldn’t keep the truth inside. Not entirely.
“Okay, here’s the truth.” She picked at an invisible string on her leggings. “We, um. We met two hours before we found out we were going to be stepsiblings. Let’s say it was a very interesting meeting. One that is really hard to forget.” Her throat squeezed at the memory of them running across the golf course, laughing, as if the world was wide open to them. As if they could go anywhere together without consequence. “Impossible, actually.”
“You . . . kissed him.”
“No. We kissed each other.”
“Okay,” Tallulah drew out, staring at her levelly. “Is that where the intimacy ended? Like, has anything happened since then?”
Chloe blinked. “Of course not. We’ll be related by marriage in two months.”
“I know.” Her friend sobered even further. “I mean, technically, you wouldn’t be breaking the law. You met as adults, you’re not blood related. If Sig wasn’t a professional athlete with a lot of eyes on him—”
“And an indignity like this wouldn’t ruin my mother’s social position and hinder my own prospects—”
“Exactly.” Tallulah gave her a sympathetic wince. “It’s . . . delicate. In so many ways. You did the right thing by stopping as soon as you found out your parents were tying the knot.”
Well. That wasn’t entirely true was it? Chloe and Sig might not have slept together, but sometimes she felt as though their relationship was more intimate than sex.
“Do you ever just wonder if maybe . . .” Tallulah started.
“What?”
Her friend seemed unsure about whether or not to continue. “The connection between you two is . . . blatant, for lack of a better term. It’s palpable, like, at all times. And I guess I’m wondering if you two could get it out of your systems now. Before it is technically wrong to sleep together. You know, just to avoid a lifetime of wondering.” She covered her face with both hands. “Am I a terrible person for saying any of this?”
“No.” Chloe stared blindly at the ice. “Oh God, maybe you’re right.”
“No, I’m not. Don’t listen to me. I am not right.” Tallulah’s expression turned even more serious. “And I’m sorry, Chloe. Your feelings for him must be really complicated. Everything about this is complicated.”
Chloe nodded and nodded . . . and nodded some more, as if a spring in her neck was broken. “I don’t think any amount of time could get this out of our systems,” she whispered. “That’s why we agreed to be friends only.”
“Then you made the best decision,” Tallulah said quietly.
“It doesn’t feel like it.” She attempted a smile, but it dropped like it weighed as much as an elephant. “Do you think I can bribe the Globe into canceling Boston’s Most Eligible Bachelor list? And do you think they would accept unopened lipsticks as a bribe?”
Tallulah’s throat shifted with a swallow. “Oh, honey.”
Two bodies slammed into the glass. When Chloe saw that one of them was Sig and he was the victim of an obvious cross-check and the whistle didn’t blow, she surged to her feet and slapped a frustrated hand on the glass. “Are you serious, ref?” The arena went nuts with boos and catcalls. “Your mom called. Even she thinks you’re a hack!”