you want to build a life with me, you think you might love me! You don’t have sex with someone the way we do unless you know , know for sure.” She took another swing at his head. “I knew I fucking loved you, I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you, and now I know I never want to see you again!”
“Chloe, don’t do this!”
Her fists clenched and her eyes grew to narrow slits, as if she were looking out through a helmet. As if they were at war. “I didn’t fucking do it, you did. Tell me, Cal, why are you telling me about the bet now?”
“I wanted to tell you before you heard it from the others.”
“Right, but if you put a stop to it so immediately, why is it that you need to tell me before I hear it from someone else? Why does everybody know that you won the bet? Why would you even need to explain the reason you aren’t collecting unless you boasted about it at some point?”
Cal winced at her questions. God, he hated to think what she would do when he told her he actually did boast about it, drunk-texting the guys that they owed him five hundred dollars.
Chloe sneered. “Not so talkative now, are you?” Chloe threw his father’s prized Honma nine iron, now a mangled mess, into the lake and started to walk home.
“Please don’t walk away from me.” She didn’t stop. “Chloe.” He took one step after her. “Don’t go.”
She stopped and turned, her face red and angry. “Tell me how the guys knew you succeeded in your conquest.”
He dropped his head, knowing that at his admission, Chloe would be gone from his life forever, casting him into darkness. “I texted them sometime during the night.”
Gasping on a harsh breath and pulling herself up to her full height, she looked him square in the eye. “I hate you, Caleb Dean St. Martin, and I’ll hate you till the day I die.”
At those words, at her admission, Chloe turned and ran. The beauty of the landscape with its green and lush grasses, still lake, and ducks flying overhead was a stark juxtaposition to the events playing out in front of them. With Chloe gone, emptiness wrapped around Cal like a cloak. He dropped to his knees and scrubbed his hands over his face then tugged his hair as hard as he could. Through his own stupidity, he’d lost the only woman he had ever loved.
5
C HLOE SPENT THE rest of the weekend at her condo in her pajamas. She ordered a large brick oven pizza and in two days, managed to eat it all. She caught up on all her reality shows, what her mother referred to as trash TV. She cried until she thought she’d get dehydrated, and her head was so stuffy it hurt like hell.
She was mad. Not just heartbroken, but angry.
She knew the moment she’d seen forever in Cal’s eyes. It was when he’d said, “Where you stand is next to me.” In that moment she had sensed a change in him. A meaningful change. Unfortunately she’d been mistaken, and he hadn’t changed at all. She’d seen only a lie. She was still a source of amusement and entertainment. He didn’t care one bit about her.
When the doorbell rang Sunday evening, she was tempted to ignore it, but she needed a break from herself and her thoughts. She looked through the peephole and into familiar ice-blue eyes. Shit. What was he doing here? She pulled the clip out of her hair and ran to her room to slide on a pair of jeans and a clean T-shirt. She ran a brush through her hair.
Another knock sounded at the door.
“Chloe, I know you’re in there; I can see your car. Plus I can hear the TV.”
Chloe clicked the television off and grabbed all the tissues from the coffee table and those peppering the floor around the couch. “Just a minute,” she yelled at the door. She took the pizza box to the kitchen trash and wrangled it down using her fists and feet to bend it into submission. She glanced around and was satisfied she’d gotten rid of the evidence of her pity party and crying jags. Except her eyes still felt puffy. She
“Chloe, don’t do this!”
Her fists clenched and her eyes grew to narrow slits, as if she were looking out through a helmet. As if they were at war. “I didn’t fucking do it, you did. Tell me, Cal, why are you telling me about the bet now?”
“I wanted to tell you before you heard it from the others.”
“Right, but if you put a stop to it so immediately, why is it that you need to tell me before I hear it from someone else? Why does everybody know that you won the bet? Why would you even need to explain the reason you aren’t collecting unless you boasted about it at some point?”
Cal winced at her questions. God, he hated to think what she would do when he told her he actually did boast about it, drunk-texting the guys that they owed him five hundred dollars.
Chloe sneered. “Not so talkative now, are you?” Chloe threw his father’s prized Honma nine iron, now a mangled mess, into the lake and started to walk home.
“Please don’t walk away from me.” She didn’t stop. “Chloe.” He took one step after her. “Don’t go.”
She stopped and turned, her face red and angry. “Tell me how the guys knew you succeeded in your conquest.”
He dropped his head, knowing that at his admission, Chloe would be gone from his life forever, casting him into darkness. “I texted them sometime during the night.”
Gasping on a harsh breath and pulling herself up to her full height, she looked him square in the eye. “I hate you, Caleb Dean St. Martin, and I’ll hate you till the day I die.”
At those words, at her admission, Chloe turned and ran. The beauty of the landscape with its green and lush grasses, still lake, and ducks flying overhead was a stark juxtaposition to the events playing out in front of them. With Chloe gone, emptiness wrapped around Cal like a cloak. He dropped to his knees and scrubbed his hands over his face then tugged his hair as hard as he could. Through his own stupidity, he’d lost the only woman he had ever loved.
5
C HLOE SPENT THE rest of the weekend at her condo in her pajamas. She ordered a large brick oven pizza and in two days, managed to eat it all. She caught up on all her reality shows, what her mother referred to as trash TV. She cried until she thought she’d get dehydrated, and her head was so stuffy it hurt like hell.
She was mad. Not just heartbroken, but angry.
She knew the moment she’d seen forever in Cal’s eyes. It was when he’d said, “Where you stand is next to me.” In that moment she had sensed a change in him. A meaningful change. Unfortunately she’d been mistaken, and he hadn’t changed at all. She’d seen only a lie. She was still a source of amusement and entertainment. He didn’t care one bit about her.
When the doorbell rang Sunday evening, she was tempted to ignore it, but she needed a break from herself and her thoughts. She looked through the peephole and into familiar ice-blue eyes. Shit. What was he doing here? She pulled the clip out of her hair and ran to her room to slide on a pair of jeans and a clean T-shirt. She ran a brush through her hair.
Another knock sounded at the door.
“Chloe, I know you’re in there; I can see your car. Plus I can hear the TV.”
Chloe clicked the television off and grabbed all the tissues from the coffee table and those peppering the floor around the couch. “Just a minute,” she yelled at the door. She took the pizza box to the kitchen trash and wrangled it down using her fists and feet to bend it into submission. She glanced around and was satisfied she’d gotten rid of the evidence of her pity party and crying jags. Except her eyes still felt puffy. She
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