Love, Chloe - Alessandra Torre Page 0,69

me. I swayed a little and my hand tightened on the door. “Are you okay?” His eyes concerned, his brow furrowed, and he stepped forward and grabbed my arms, sort of holding me up.

“I’m fine.” I giggled. I didn’t know why I giggled. I was nervous, and my stomach was in knots and a fifteen-year-old girl’s giggle came out of me. He smiled a little, and I wanted to kiss him for it.

“I take it we’re not going to dinner.” He eyed my pizza and the empty bottles, which I swore I had thrown away but nope, they were sitting right there, on my coffee table, giant pieces of evidence. And oh shit, he was right; we were supposed to go out for sushi. The pizza had been a frozen one that I had planned to heat up as just a snack. One piece, that was all I’d have, something to tide me over until dinner. The beer had started the same way. One tiny piece of pizza and one beer, just to calm my nerves and pacify my stomach. Then … my eyes drifted over the train wreck on my coffee table. I didn’t handle stress well.

There’d been a speech I’d planned. I closed my eyes and tried to remember it. Something that started with my history with Vic. It’d been a good speech. I’d practiced it twice. Carter’s hands were holding me up by my biceps, I glanced down at them and the words just blurted out, without introduction or warning.

“I slept with my ex. In Joey Plazen’s trailer. The night before he gave me the car.”

Then … with his hands still wrapped around my arms, I leaned forward and vomited.

Super. Classy.

I know.

I opened my eyes and blinked, my alarm clock coming into fuzzy focus. I rolled over carefully, stilling when I realized I wasn’t alone, Carter next to me, stretched out on top of the covers, jeans on, a couch pillow squashed underneath his head. I closed my eyes and did a self-assessment.

Foul taste in my mouth? Yep.

A little sweaty underneath the hot blankets? Oh yeah.

Knot in my stomach? Gone.

Shame of my actions? Non-existent.

Hmmm. I felt brave enough to prop up on my elbows and look around. I was pretty certain, given his full dress and … I peeked under the covers … my own jeans and top, that we didn’t have sex. Or get even close to it. I closed my eyes and tried to remember more. The memory came fuzzy through the grip of a headache.

I’d told Carter about Vic and me. Then, I’d vomited. Apologized while … crawling to the bathroom? I winced, and Carter shifted. He opened his eyes and saw me.

“Chloe.” His hand lifted, rubbing over his face. “Good morning.”

“I slept with Vic. In Joey Plazen’s trailer.” It was like my vomit from last night. It just wouldn’t stop coming out.

He smiled. “Yes. I know. You mentioned that, several times.”

“And you’re okay with it?”

He considered me for a long moment. “I wasn’t. But … you’re pretty hard to stay mad at when you’re bent over a toilet.”

I winced. “Sorry.”

“You said that a lot last night.” He met my eyes. “But you also told me it was over, with you and him.”

“It is.” My words were firm, no hesitation in my gaze. “Definitely.” The words rolled out strong and confident. And I was sure of myself, positive that I wanted it to be over. What I wasn’t as confident about was if it actually was over. It took two to tango, but it also took two to part.

“Why do you seem surprised that I’m not mad?”

“Well…” I kicked off a tangle of sheets. “It was after we hooked up. That’d bother some guys.” It definitely would have bothered Vic.

“I didn’t exactly walk away from that night expecting loyalty.” He reached for me, but I rolled away. Mainly because I was pretty sure my morning breath was horrific. But also because he was so casual about this that it was raising my own questions.

“Did you have someone like that? An ex who was still around? Or who still is?”

“You mean, like Presa?” he raised his eyebrows and I fidgeted with the edge of the sheet. “Before that show, I hadn’t seen Presa in months.”

Months? I would have preferred years. “Anyone else?” The memory of the brunette—Brit—came to mind.

“Someone who gives me exorbitant gifts and drags me into isolated places for impromptu sex?” He shook his head with a smile. “No.”

“I’m serious.” I faced him