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The sound of Chloe’s soft laughter ended my trip down memory lane.
“The only person I wanted to kiss was Jackson,” she admitted. “I was mostly mad because I thought you two were making fun of me and it hurt my feelings.”
Fuck, looking back I could think of so many times when I’d tried to show my interest and to her it must’ve come off like I’d been fucking around like a snot-nosed little prick. Of course I hadn’t been. Where Chloe was concerned, I was always serious.
“I was never, ever making fun of you,” I said earnestly. “I’m sorry I gave you any reason to think I was.”
She squeezed my hand. “I see that now,” she assured me. “I was just… sensitive.”
“Alright kids, let’s not get too serious here,” Caroline chided. “I’ve got Alec trying to win me the stuffed unicorn from the top row but as everyone knows, his throw is painfully bad.”
“Hey!” Alec laughed, affronted. “I’ll have you know that the Red Sox wanted to draft me.”
All three of us burst out laughing. Alec and I had played little league and later high school baseball together, and his lack of throwing ability was legend in Bliss. It didn’t matter where he was positioned—once the ball left his hand, there was a good chance that someone’s car would be dinged up. By our senior year, the coaches had begged him to try basketball instead. That hadn’t been any better.
“I’ve got you covered, babe,” Chloe laughed.
Together, the four of us fanned out along the bushel basket toss counter. I paid a small fortune for twelve weighted bean bags and handed them to Chloe. I wasn’t too proud to admit that she had better aim than I did. Always had, and probably always would.
It took forty-five minutes and sixty-one dollars to do it, but Chloe managed to win Caroline the unicorn she’d wanted. I was there to be supportive but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I spent the entire time hoping time would speed up so I could get her back to my place. It felt incredible to be able to talk with and touch her without there being any kind of anger between us, and I was dying to be alone with her.
I got lucky, because Alec and Caroline started showing increased signs of wanting to be alone together as well. That was made obvious by the fact that with each passing minute they got a little more touchy-feely. When it got a little too heated for the carnival goers, I shut it down.
The ride back to my apartment passed quickly—which was a really good thing since our friends had decided to make out in the back of my Volvo. When I pulled into the parking lot I hurriedly parked so I could get out and open Chloe’s door. I didn’t wait for Alec and Caroline since they’d yet to notice we were parked. Once Chloe was out I leaned my head back in and coughed dramatically. The way they sprang apart was comic relief.
“Time to take this to Alec’s apartment because I’ve got a no bodily fluids in the Volvo policy.”
As soon as they were out of my car I locked it up and Chloe and I waved them off. The way our apartment complex was laid out meant that Alec and I lived right next door to one another in separate buildings. With the way he and Caroline were looking at each other I was glad we didn’t share an apartment.
With them gone, I took Chloe’s hand and walked her up to my apartment. After closing the door behind us, I turned and watched as she looked around.
“Wow— this is really nice.”
I’d bought all of my furniture on a weekend run to Ikea. It was pretty basic, but all brand new, which was nice. “Not what you were expecting?”
“I half expected you to have decorated with the furniture from your grandma’s basement,” she joked.
“Because I kept the Volvo?” I asked as I guided her to the couch. Once she chose a seat I sat on the cushion next to her.
“Totally because of the Volvo,” she laughed.
“You remember that my grandma’s furniture was mauve and cream with heavy emphasis on floral patterns, right?”
She nodded. “I do, but it was also comfortable— and expensive, as I recall.”
“It didn’t go far,” I laughed. “She gave it to Alec for his apartment. It pairs well with his air hockey table and his duel sixty-inch flat-screens so he can keep up with two games at a time.”
Chloe giggle-snorted as she rolled her eyes. “His obsession with sports makes me feel bad about the fact that he can’t work with a ball to save his life. Football, baseball, basketball, heck, even soccer wasn’t for him.”
“It all works out in the end though,” I told her. “He found out last week that he got a job with the Red Sox home office. He won’t be on the field—there isn’t enough liability insurance in the world for that—but he gets to work in a profession he loves. He’s overjoyed.”
