THE CRAZY GOOD SERIES - Rachel Robinson Page 0,220

sure I can stand to hear her talk herself out of it and stay true to my plan.

“There’s no pressure. Nothing to worry about.” I walk away from her into the living room to turn on a streaming radio station—something I know she’ll like—and turn. We’re face to face, her body radiating heat that my cock can feel. In a word, she looks vulnerable, pliable…easy. Words that no one associates with Morg. I bring my hand up to cup the side of her face. She leans into it and into me a little further. Sighing a pent up breath, I feel my body begin to unwind in tiny increments just from her proximity.

Knock. Knock. Knock. Both our heads turn to face my front door. After a few more seconds the deadbolt turns and in walks a blonde, coifed Chloe. Life has other plans for tonight, obviously. Fuck.

Now, you have to understand that I’ve seen this woman naked a million times and she’s hotter than your average dime piece. So, when my eyes rake over her short trench coat and bare thighs, I know right away that she doesn’t have anything underneath except a landing strip and a pair of silicone titties so perfect they’d make Hugh weep. The trench coat routine is my favorite. Wonderment and utter fear hit me like an unexpected crash-bang.

My good sense finally snaps into focus. I look at Chloe’s face. Only her face. “Chloe. What are you doing here?” I ask, walking toward her, mostly in a vain attempt to block Morganna’s view. Morg’s silence makes me uncomfortable. This situation makes me uncomfortable. I don’t dare turn around, though. Chloe’s neck cranes to look behind me. Her face lights in legitimate confusion.

“I got your text,” she explains, one hand digging in her purse by her side. Her hot pink iPhone is in her hand the next second.

“Your shoes are to die for. Who are they by? Giuseppe? Charlotte Olympia?” Morganna asks, the fake placating tone weaving her words. I cringe as Morganna walks to stand next to me in the foyer, her narrowed eyes assessing whatever it is that’s going on. She knows she’s naked underneath the coat, too. I’m not sure how this situation could possibly get any worse.

Chloe smiles at Morganna. “Thanks. Olympia. Surprised to see you here, Morganna.” She looks back down to her phone as her finger scrolls wildly. “You texted me. I need to fuck tonight. Those words. Verbatim. You’re lucky I was in town,” Chloe says, trying her best to keep her gaze trained on my face. When her gaze darts to Morganna she rasps, “Or not.”

I shake my head. “I didn’t. I didn’t text you today.”

She holds up her phone for both of us to see. “You did.”

I squint my eyes and there is the text from Steve Warner with the incriminating words just as she said.

Morganna clears her throat. “You two obviously have some unfinished business to attend to.” I listen to her leave the room just as my surroundings start to swim in a bloody shade of red. Cody. He texted Chloe.

“Stop,” I command, spinning to face Morganna’s retreating back. “I did not text her, Morganna. I swear it.” She pauses, but continues walking back to my bedroom.

“You have some serious explaining to do, Steve.” Chloe folds her arms over her chest. “Unless you’ve upped your game and lie in the face of evidence, then what the hell was the message about?”

“I didn’t send it, Chloe.” I rake both hands through my hair and look up to the ceiling. “I didn’t fucking send the text message!” My voice echoes the space.

I feel bad. It’s not her fault. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t send it. Cody was fucking around with my phone earlier.” The sadness in her eyes is palpable and I feel about three feet tall. My emotions are all over the fucking place.

“I messed it up for you, didn’t I?”

I approach her, and hug her as innocently as I can. The horrible lump creeps into my throat. Sucking in a deep breath I say, “No. It’s fine.”

It isn’t fine.

I lean away, leaving my hands on her slight shoulders. “It’s not your fault, but I need to go fix things with Morg. Okay?”

She smiles a weak, hopeful smile and I realize something. She thinks I’ll change my mind about our relationship. That we stand half a fuck’s of a chance in a normal relationship after the screwed up affair we carried on for years.

I shake