“I take it back, you did learn something.”
Too little too late. Matt was furious with him, and Chloe...how the hell was he supposed to make amends to her? He wasn’t sure he could be in the same room without wanting to pull her into his arms. Even tonight, frustrated and angry as he was, he longed to drive back to her apartment. So he could hold her again.
He must have sighed, because Jack asked, “What?”
“Nothing,” he replied, then laughed. “Would you believe woman problems?”
“This the ‘her’ you’re thinking of letting go?”
His sponsor was damn perceptive. “She’s unlike any woman I’ve ever met, Jack. Sweet, innocent...” Vulnerable, kind.
“She sounds special.”
“She is.” Too special for the likes of him. A man whose entire legacy was causing pain to people he cared about.
“So what’s the problem?”
“Nothing you can help with, unfortunately. This is one problem I have to solve myself.” His eyes fell on the black garment bag lying on the counter.
He had one more amend to make. This one would be for her.
Having been up till five in the morning, Chloe did not appreciate hearing her apartment buzzer at nine-thirty. She rolled from bed, stole a glance at Larissa and headed into the living room. It was probably Delilah, worried over her two best friends calling in sick for work. “You could have phoned,” she snapped into the speaker.
“I don’t know your home number.”
Ian? She was so surprised to hear his voice that for a second she forgot last night’s resolve. “What are you doing here?”
“Can you let me in? We need to talk.”
Actually, they didn’t. Chloe was pretty certain their time for talking had ended when he’d kissed her goodbye last night. Anything Ian had to say now would only hurt.
But what if you’re wrong?
The oath came out soft but sharp. You’re a glutton for punishment, Chloe Abrams. “Fine.” She unlatched the front door, then rushed to the bathroom to brush her teeth, purposely avoiding the mirror. She already knew she looked like a disaster; checking would only lead to panic. Instead, she grabbed a ponytail holder from the vanity drawer and shoved her curls atop her head. No sooner did she finish than Ian knocked.
It wasn’t fair, an inner voice whined. Did he have to look so good? He wore his usual leather jacket and sweatshirt, with the familiar ginger shadow again covering his cheeks. Yesterday’s sad, withdrawn expression remained as well, she noticed, only today a new emotion joined the mixture. Resignation. Defeat.
Disappointment settled in the pit of Chloe’s stomach. She’d so hoped he might be different. She hated how he made her think that way.
At least now she knew the truth. His expression said everything she needed to know.
With a glance at the bedroom, she stepped out into the hall, closing the front door halfway. No need for Larissa to be dragged into the conversation. “What are you doing here?” she asked.
“When you didn’t show up for your morning coffee I called your office, and they told me you phoned in sick. Are you all right?”
Wait a second. “You noticed I didn’t come in for coffee?” He’d been looking for her.
Ian’s response was to gaze at her as if she had two heads. “You’ve been coming in for thirty-two straight weeks. Of course I noticed you.
“You’re a little hard to ignore,” he added with a half smile.
Damn, but she hated how her heart fluttered when he gave his answer. Her heart had never fluttered until Ian. Further proof she’d made the right decision last night. Larissa’s devastation was a harsh reminder of how important it was to protect your heart. For so long Chloe had told herself people got what they deserved. Until this weekend, when she’d let herself hope she might find forever. She’d been kidding herself. Ian was no different than any other man she’d let into her life.
With one exception: Ian had the power to break her heart if she let him get close.
“You didn’t answer my question,” he said. “Are you all right?”
“Fine.” Man, but her face felt tight. She swore she wouldn’t show emotion one way or another, but the action killed her check muscles. “Larissa got some bad news, and we spent the most of the night talking. I called in sick so we could get some sleep.”
“I hope the news wasn’t anything serious.”
“Her fiancé broke up with her. He found someone else.”
“I’m sorry.”
There was sympathy in his eyes she didn’t want to see, so she turned her attention to the weather-stripping on the side of her door. “Yeah, me, too. She deserved better.”
“She wouldn’t be the only one.”
Chloe didn’t want to discuss who deserved what; she simply wanted to get this conversation over with. The sooner she ripped the bandage off, the sooner the sting would start to heal. “Why are you here, Ian?” she asked. “Surely you didn’t come by simply because I forgot my coffee.”
“You left your dress in the backseat of the car.”
For the first time she noticed the garment bag draped over his shoulder. “Figured you’d be looking for it come the end of the week,” he said.
“Thanks.” Gathering the bag in her arms, she held it tight, not caring if the dress wrinkled or not. Clutching helped her cope with the latest wave of disappointment. You’d think at some point she’d stop holding her breath for his response. “If that’s everything...”
“I also wanted to talk.”
And there it was; the true reason. He was going to stand in her hallway and tell her this weekend had been a mistake, or a one-time deal or, or, or...she knew a zillion excuses a man could give, and even if Ian did have the decency to deliver one of them to her face, she didn’t want to hear it. Not from him. Not right now.
She started backing into her living room. “This isn’t really a good time. What with La-roo being upset and everything.”
“You said Larissa is asleep.”
“Yeah, but...”
Ian reached around to pull her door shut. “This won’t take long.”
“Then why bother at all?”
He blinked. The question came out far sharper than Chloe meant it to. Usually she could fake indifference with the best of them. Thing was, she didn’t feel indifferent this morning. Disappointed, agitated, but definitely not indifferent.
Taking a deep breath, she started again. “Look, what I’m saying is we both know the deal, so why go through the pretense? Why don’t we save ourselves the hassle, agree that this weekend was fun while it lasted, and move on?”
“Do you really mean that?” Ian moved so that he shared the door frame with her, his broad chest consuming what little space her own body didn’t. When he folded his arms across his torso, the action brought him right up against her. With a narrowed gaze, he looked her in the eye. The intensity made Chloe want to squirm. She missed her high heels and the height advantage they gave her. They were eye to eye right now, and she’d never felt more pinned down in her life.
“Sure,” she said, finding her voice. “Don’t you? I mean, isn’t that why you’re here? To end things on a nice clean note?”
It was his turn to squirm. She’d made up her mind last night that this time she would walk away first. “Some people aren’t cut out for relationships, right? Wasn’t that what you said?”
“I wasn’t talking about you. You’re—”
“No.” He did not get to play the martyr and feel better about himself. “I’m the same as you, Ian.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” Before she knew what happened, his fingers were playing with the loose curls by her face. “You, Curlilocks—”
“Stop calling me that!” Her frustration boiled over and she slapped his hand away. Forget indifferent. “You do not tell me what I am and what I’m not. I’m the one standing in my hallway in a pair of ratty yoga pants being tossed aside, so I get to be the one to walk away. Me, not you. And if that leaves you feeling bad or guilty or unlovable, then tough. Deal with it.”
Her vision started to blur. Dammit, she would not lose control more than she already had. She reached for the door handle, only for Ian to catch her by the wrist.
“You are not unlovable,” he whispered.
Of everything she’d said, why on earth did he pick that word to zero in on? Keeping her jaw clenched, she stared straight ahead. “Hey, we all get what we deserve, right?”
His stuttered breath gave her a small measure of satisfaction. “I never meant...”
“Cross my name off your list, Ian. You’ve made all the amends here you’re going to make.”
Breaking free, she finally managed to open her door and get herself inside. Ian didn’t stop her.
Did you expect he would? Chloe let her head fall back against the door. Walking away wasn’t any better than being brushed off.
“Did I hear the door?” Larissa asked, stepping out of the bedroom. Her face still bore mascara traces from last night’s cryfest.
Chloe quickly mustered a smile. “I left my dress in the backseat of Ian’s car. He stopped by to return it.”