My personal email is saved for important cases, and only a handful of people have it, so it throws me for a loop when I see an email from an address I don’t recognize. I open the email and immediately remember giving Mrs. Clemmons, my old English teacher, this email and telling her I’d love to come talk to her class when I’m able.
She was excited to talk to me at the bar, and is still excited now, judging by her overuse of exclamation points, which is not something she’d advise to do in class, I’m sure.
Hi, Chloe,
It was so nice running into you at The Cantina! I hope you know just how proud I am of you, and yes, I might have bragged to all my friends that you were in my class! I know you’re a busy woman, but we would so love it if you could come in and talk to our seniors this year. I have quite a few who want to be writers and hearing a success story from someone who went to Silver Ridge High would mean so much to them! I was able to get permission from the school board as well as my students’ guardians to read Nightfall this semester, so we’ll be ready for you whenever you can come in!
Hope to hear from you soon,
Mrs. Clemmons
I smile as I read through her email, finding it almost too coincidental to get this email inviting me back to Silver Ridge right as I’m contemplating moving back there. Is it a sign that things are meant to be? It puts me closer to Sam, so I’m taking this as a yes, it is a sign. A good sign, yet still a little voice nags at me that things are too good to be true.
5
Sam
I drum my fingers against the arm of the chair, anxiously waiting for the next group of passengers to emerge from the escalator. Chloe’s flight got delayed, so instead of landing at seven PM, it’s now after eleven. If I wasn’t so damn excited to see her, I’d be tired, yet the thought of holding her in my arms again sends a jolt of electricity through my veins.
But there’s a little bit of dread mixed in there too.
I haven’t spoken to Stacey since she dropped the bomb on me, and part of me wants to ignore it and pretend it never happened. I’m a logical person, though, and it’s not like me at all to hope getting something out of sight will also get it out of mind. I have to tell Chloe and hope it’s not a dealbreaker for her.
I remind myself what Archer and I discussed: I didn’t do anything wrong, not really. Stacey and I hooked up way before I even saw Chloe again. Our relationship was clear cut the whole time, and we both slept together knowing it was nothing more than a hookup. Plus, Stacey and I talked the next morning and mutually agreed we’re not fit for long-term dating, and I’m still not convinced Stacey wasn’t sleeping with anyone else at the time.
The biggest reason I couldn’t commit to any more before was because I was still in love with Chloe, even when I didn’t want to admit it to myself. Dating Stacey more than once was the closest I got to a real relationship, and the one time I decided to try and give it a real go, she cheated on me, claiming our previous open relationship confused her after a night of drinking.
It’s my fault for calling her that night. If I could go back and undo it all, I would. Because then everything would be perfect.
I love Chloe.
And she loves me.
We spent too many years apart, too many years yearning and waiting in heartache. She’s all I need to make my life complete, and I want so fucking bad to be all she needs too.
Exhaling heavily, I close my eyes in a long blink. My heart lurches when I open them and see a small crowd of people coming down toward the baggage claim. I stand, lips curving into a smile, and spot Chloe among them. Her eyes meet mine, and she smiles broadly.
Her dark auburn hair cascades over her shoulder in messy waves and her eyes light up the whole damn place. A slight flush covers her cheeks, reminding me of how she looks when we’ve just finished making love. My dick stirs at the thought, and everything else goes out the window. There’s no nerves, no dread. I want to get lost in her over and over, feeling nothing but pleasure.
I move closer, pulse picking up speed the closer she gets.
“Sam,” she breathes, sidestepping around a slow-moving couple, and comes to me. With my heart in my throat I throw my arms around her, crushing her against me. Fuck, it feels so good to have her back in my arms. I break away just enough to put my lips to hers, kissing her with no care that we’re surrounded by hundreds of people. I run a hand through her messy hair and slip my tongue in her mouth. Sweeping my other hand down her back, I pull her closer to me.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I know I should stop, but it’s easy to get carried away when it comes to Chloe. Her carry-on bag slips from her shoulder, yanking her arm down and forcing us to stop kissing.
“Hello to you too,” she breathes, hiking her bag back up. I reach out and take it from her, surprised at how heavy it is.
“What do you have in here?” I ask, working hard to resist the urge to kiss her again, and hook the bag over my shoulder.
“Books and my laptop. I brought the whole Nightfall series with me to flip through on the plane. I purposely set up a lot of loose ends throughout the series and needed to double-check some things before I get too far into what I’m writing.”
“Don’t you have them all in digital format?” I ask with a laugh.
“Oh, I do, but there’s something about flipping through my notes that’s just easier for me. And I like the feel of a nice, thick book in my hands.” She wiggles her eyebrows and I’m all the more tempted to find an empty closet and fuck her senseless. “But there’s another thick thing I’d like in my hand even more.”
Goddamn, this woman is going to kill me.
“Do you want to know what it is—”
“Are you Chloe Fisher?” a young woman rushes out, coming over to Chloe. She’s clutching a worn copy of Nightfall in her hands. “Oh my God. You are, aren’t you? Oh my God! I just love you and your series and—oh, I’m so sorry. You probably don’t want to be bothered!”
Chloe beams. “I am, and it’s fine. I see you’re a fan of Marcus and Kellie.”
“I’ve read it probably a hundred times. Maybe more!” the woman says with a nervous high-pitched laugh. “And I’ve seen every episode at least twice. I totally imaged Kellie to look like you when I read it and then when you and Charles started dated it was like—oh my God—Kellie and Marcus are real! But then you guys broke up and…” She trails off, eyes going to me.
“Would you like me to sign your book?” Chloe asks and the woman jumps up and down with excitement. We step off to the side and Chloe writes a nice little note in the book and takes a few selfies with the woman before coming back to me.
“I thought you said getting recognized only happens in Silver Ridge,” I tease, lacing my fingers through hers.
“It happens from time to time, and never did until the show started and I started doing talk shows. Those things are nerve wracking, by the way. I kind of hate doing them, to be honest.”
“I don’t think I’d like it either.” We slow at the baggage carousel, waiting for the suitcases to start coming around. “I’ve never sat and watched a whole interview through,” I admit. “Seeing you reminded me of how much I fucked up.”