Page 112

I heard footsteps, and a moment later, she opened the door a crack. She was breathtakingly beautiful in her gray sweatpants and a beige tank top. Oh, how I wanted her in my arms right away.
“Why are you here?” she demanded, looking frustrated.
She looked over her shoulder quickly, and I realized there was a buzz in the background.
I put a hand on the door, trying to push it open. She stood her ground, not letting me in.
I could hear music and the chatter of voices. Was she having a party?
“What kind of party is this?” I asked, opening the door further as I took a look in.
My eyes roved over the faces of the guests—young kids in their early twenties, who looked very naive and rather taken aback at my presence here.
“Is he a cop?” someone muttered while I slowly swiveled my gaze to Chloe, eyebrows raised.
She swallowed. “This is Henry’s party for his friends,” she said, just as Henry came into view.
He pushed his wheelchair over, his face breaking into a grin when he saw me.
“Will, isn’t it?” he asked, extending his hand to me. I shook his hand while I gave Chloe a look.
She stared at me for a long, evaluating moment, noticing our handshake and my serious expression before she turned to Henry.
“Actually,” she said, taking a deep breath, “this is Sean. Not Will.”
Henry’s look of shock was plain for everyone to see, and people’s eyes were now drawn to this little scene.
But I was too busy savoring those words. Too busy watching Chloe with a feeling of pride surging through me.
She didn’t break my gaze as she continued to look at me while she spoke to Henry. “And he is my boss.”
Chloe’s words were low, but in the sudden silence of the party, with only the dull hum of the music in the background, everyone heard it.
I heard a few gasps and some people mutter from the living room, but I didn’t care.
Out of the side of my eyes, I noticed that Henry’s jaw had dropped.
“Your boss?” he repeated with a gulp, and I turned to him with a smile.
“Yes,” I said, reaching for Chloe’s wrist. “And I need a word with Chloe. Alone. Now.”
Saying that, I pulled her with me to her bedroom. Giving up, she followed me as I strode up to her room and drew her inside, shutting the door behind her.
I took in her parted lips and the way her wide eyes blazed with fury as she looked back at me.
“What’s with the anger?” I grunted out.
She paused before crossing her arms over her chest. “You don’t show up for work for a few days. Your emails and texts to me are only about work. Like nothing ever happened between us. And then you have the audacity to show up here? Of course I’m mad.”
I leaned in. “Well, what should I assume when you cut our date short after five glorious hours?” I asked.
She didn’t move from her spot. Her eyes darted over my face, taking me in.
“It was too much,” she said finally.
“The date?” I asked, wondering if the display of my wealth had put her off.
“I didn’t trust myself. I’m afraid that if I fell asleep with you, if I woke up with you, if I gave you my nights and days, that I might soon fall in love with you. And I don’t want that for myself. I wanted some distance.”