Obviously, it didn’t work.
“I knew a lot about you back then. I was low-key stalking your every move since I was hopelessly in love with you,” Chloe says so seriously I can’t tell if she’s joking or not. “I hid a digital voice recorder in your room and bribed Mason to bring it to me every morning before school by letting him see my boobs.”
I laugh. “Sadly, that would have worked.” I hold her tighter against me. “But you didn’t show him your boobs, did you?”
“No,” she chuckles. “You’re the only Harris to have seen them. Well, I think Rory’s seen them. I know we’ve changed in front of each other before. You’re the only Harris who’s touched them, that’s for sure.”
“As long as it stays that way.”
She tips her head up, biting her lip. I’ve come to notice she does it as a nervous habit, not because she’s trying to look seductive. “I hope you’re the only one from now on who gets to touch them.”
“I plan on it,” I tell her, fully meaning it. I’ve loved Chloe for so long. Now that she’s mine, I will do anything to keep it that way.
Anything.
6
Chloe
“Are you hungry?” Sam fishes the keys to his apartment from his pocket.
“Starving,” I say as he unlocks the door and pushes it open wide, motioning for me to step in first.
“Good, because I might have made dinner. Well, not dinner, but something to eat.”
Smiling, I turn and am struck all over again by just how handsome Sam is. Thick brown hair, striking blue eyes, a sharp stubble-covered jaw and full lips. He’s exactly the type of man I’d write about…or maybe the men I write about look the way they do because of Sam.
He’s so much more than his good looks, though. He’s smart and kind and—most importantly—he’s my boyfriend now.
“You cooked for me?”
“Cooked is relative,” he chuckles and wheels my suitcase into the foyer, and then closes and locks the door behind us. The apartment is dark, and light from the city below illuminates the corner windows. “So if it’s terrible, don’t hold it against me.”
“As much as my dad likes to joke that I’m all prissy, I promise I’m not a picky eater. You put food in front of me, and unless it’s just garbage, I’m gonna eat it.” I lean over, undoing the straps to my sandals. I wanted to dress up more than I normally would for a plane ride, wanting to look good for Sam. But I draw the line at wearing heels on a plane. My flats are designer, not that Sam, or really anyone else for that matter, even cares. “Which probably is something I shouldn’t tell too many people.”
“Eating is one of my favorite things to do,” he says back, and I wiggle my eyebrows. We both laugh and Sam comes over, closing the distance between us. My eyes flutter shut when his arms go around me, and I let out a sigh of relief to be back here with him.
“Let’s eat,” I say, knowing he has to work in the morning. He plants a kiss on my forehead and takes my hand, leading me to the kitchen. I sit at the island counter and he opens the oven.
“It’s still warm,” he says, mostly to himself. “I just turned the oven off before I left and hoped it would retain the heat.” He pulls out a casserole dish and I immediately recognize what he made. My face lights up and my heart swells. “But I can reheat it if you want it warmer.” He sets the artichoke dip on the counter and gets a bowl of cut-up apple slices from the fridge.
“Is this your mom’s recipe?” I ask, looking up at Sam.
“Yeah. I called her and got it from her. She wants a report from you in the morning. Tell her she makes it better.” He puts the bowl of apple slices down and takes a seat next to me. “Even though I know mine is the best.”
“Thanks, Sam.” I grab an apple slice and stick it in the dip. “That was really sweet.”
“I can be sweet from time to time.” He playfully nudges me, watching as I take a bite. “Well?”
“It’s good!” I say once I’m done chewing. “It tastes exactly like I remember, but better since you made it.”
“Just don’t set the bar too high,” he jokes. “I can cook, but I usually make the same things over and over.”
“About three years ago, I decided that once a week I was going to try and cook a really good dinner. That lasted a few months, actually, which was longer than I thought I’d last. But then I went on tour and it threw off the routine. I like cooking,” I start and get another apple slice to scoop up more dip. “But going through all that trouble just for myself doesn’t seem worth it. Plus, I have no one to help me do dishes.”
“You don’t have servants?” Sam teases.
“I do have a housekeeper, but I’m guessing you do too?”
“Yeah,” he admits. “They come every other week. I feel like I don’t use the space enough to warrant anything more.” He turns his head, looking at me.
“I get it. And for the weeks when I’m traveling, my house is pretty much empty.”
“I’m kind of surprised you don’t have pets. Other than the horse.”
“Remember Salem?” I ask.
Sam nods. “The black cat you got in high school.”
“I took him with me. He lived to be nineteen. After he died, I was too sad to get another cat, but I kinda want to now. Cats are fairly easy, and I can have my P.A. come by to take care of them when I’m out. She gets my mail and makes it look like someone is home when I’m away for work.”
“P.A.?” Sam questions.
“Oh, right. I forget people don’t know what I’m talking about sometimes. Personal assistant.”
“Sounds fancy.”
I laugh. “It sounds fancier than it is. She mostly manages my social media and emails but helps with other things too.”
“Now I’m imagining you being a jerk boss like Meryl Streep’s character in The Devil Wears Prada.”
I laugh. “I’m not at all, and you’ve seen that movie?”
“I have, and I like it. Mean Girls is good too.”
I cock an eyebrow. “What about The Notebook?”
He shakes his head. “I don’t see how it’s a love story.”
“I said the same thing! And as much as I hate using this term, but I’m surprised you watch chick flicks.”
“I do have a sister,” he reminds me, nudging me with his arm.
“A sister who’s seen my boobs.”
“Way to ruin the moment,” he says with a frown, and I laugh. “Do you want anything more than dip? I have leftover chicken in the fridge, or I could order something. I’m taking you out to dinner tomorrow night, just so you know.”
“The dip is perfect, and I’m excited for dinner. I brought a dress I’ve never worn before just for date-night.”
“It’s supposed to be warm tomorrow night too. We could walk along the river after dinner, if you want.”
“That sounds wonderful.” I reach for another apple slice, looking at Sam again. He yawns, and I remember again we have a two-hour time difference and he’s not used to staying up late like I am. “I need to take a shower. Want to join me?”