Love, Chloe
Page 59Being with him could never be considered a sacrifice. And what he was saying—that I had given up wealth by choosing him—that was crazy. Nothing was being given up by being with this man. I kissed his mouth and tasted his love and didn’t need another thing from this world.
The cardboard box got pushed aside, my books falling off the shelf as he pulled me down to the floor and kissed me. I got dust in my hair when he grabbed it. His tool belt dug into my hip when he pulled me to him. When his phone rang, we were breathless.
“Don’t answer it,” I begged.
“I won’t.” He silenced the phone but saw the time. “But I have to go.”
I pouted, and he kissed me. Promised to be back soon, and then left.
I rubbed gently at my swollen lips and stared at the TV stand, a moment passing before I had the sense to resume packing.
I finished the box and tucked over the lid, pushing it aside and moving to the bookshelf, pulling framed photos off the shelves and wrapped them in hand towels. I thought about the night before. We’d been up late unpacking my stuff in his place. He’d wanted to know everything, a story about every framed photo, my favorite shoes, my stuffed zebra, the set of elephants from my summer in South Africa. Some of the stories were Vic stories, but he didn’t care. It was another thing I loved about him, his confidence. Times when Vic would have slunk off to sulk, Carter pulled me closer and laughed.
My confidence wasn’t as strong. I asked him to pack up the Presa Little art. Offered to help him carry them down to the storage lockers, but he refused, announcing that he was listing them for sale.
“You don’t need to do that.” I had pulled at his arm, trying to get his cell phone, to stop his call to the gallery.
“Why wouldn’t I?” He’d frowned down at me, genuinely confused. “They bother you. And they should. They were from when I dated her.”
“Not as beautiful as you.” He pulled me closer. “We can sell them. Put the money down and buy a place.”
“But what if…” we break up. That was what I was going to say. He’d never be able to afford to buy them back.
“We’re not.” His touch had been gentle when he’d lifted my chin, and I closed my eyes to his kiss. Relaxed in his arms and let him work his cell phone out of my hand.
I boxed up the books and then moved to the stack of loose papers, thumbing through receipts, a cable bill, and then, my first résumé. I looked it over, the pathetically sad page that I had brought to Nicole’s interview. Thank God she’d never asked for it. I carried it to my laptop and stuck it underneath, updating it another to-do item I needed to knock out next week. Monday, I was going to empty out my savings and pay off my tuition bill. It’d leave me with nothing, but Carter had insisted on it. He didn’t want me to get another dead-end job just because I didn’t have a degree. So, with a diploma finally in hand, and an updated résumé, I’d hit the employment search again. It wouldn’t be easy; New York was hell on the unemployed. But at least I had a place to stay. And a deposit that would be returned to me, if Carter deemed the apartment to be in suitable condition. Maybe a bribe was in order, one of the sexual variety. It couldn’t hurt, right? I could wait until he was working in the engine room, all sweaty and hot, then tempt him with some ice water. Get him up to our apartment and then strip him naked.
I lost track of my plans when the door to my apartment opened. Turning around, I stared at Carter. “What are you doing?” I glanced at the clock. “You should have left by—”
“I canceled.”
“What? When?”
“Just now. It’s pointless, meeting with her.” He stepped forward, tossing his jacket on my couch, his hand pulling at the knot on his tie. I loved when he was dressed up. Loved the look of him with neat hair that begged to be violated. A stiff shirt that hugged his muscles perfectly. Dress pants that clung to that fine ass.
I pulled my eyes from said pants. “Pointless? How can it be—”
After that … I lost track of thought.
“What do you think?”
Carter chewed the edge of his lip and examined a stain on the ceiling. “I think it’s a shithole.”
“Yeah,” I agreed happily. “It is.” I walked to the window and pushed aside the cheap shade. “But look at that view.”
“Trevor thinks this is a good investment?” He met me at the window. “It seems a little … small for him.”
I almost laughed. Small would be a nice word to describe the two-bedroom to my boss, a man who bought city blocks and not rundown apartments. A boss who had taken pity and given my skinny resume a chance. A boss who seemed thrilled at the real estate opportunities I had found him so far. “I haven’t approached him about it.” I turned to Carter. “I found it for you.”
“There’s no me anymore.” He turned to me. “Us.”
I rolled my eyes but didn’t hide the smile. “Okay fine. Us.”
His last Presa Little had sold at auction three weeks earlier. I wasn’t trying to dig into his business, but I could use a calculator. My poor boyfriend had enough for a down payment on this, plus a chunk left over to remodel it. Especially since he could do the majority of the remodel himself.
“You want my expert opinion?”
He laughed. “Yes.”
“I’d keep it. Renovate it and rent it out. It’ll more than cover itself.”
“Would you want to live here?”
I scrunched up my face. “Not really.” Not that the place wouldn’t be nice, but our apartment—there was just so much love in those walls. I felt like we had history there. I loved it despite it being owned by his parents, who had cut all ties with him, save for business calls about his job. I don’t know if they were mad because of my parent’s actions, or mad because he chose to date me despite that, or—and I think this is really it—they didn’t like him choosing me over them. Carter stepped toward me and I refocused on him.
“Okay.” He lifted his chin. “Make an offer on it.”
“Really?” I clenched my notebook and did a mini jump for joy.
He chuckled, pulling me to him. “You’ve looked at property every day for four months, and this is the first one you’ve ever brought me to. I think that’s a good sign.”