Chapter 2
2098 Words
Chapter Two
“Chelsea?” he asks, like he’s not sure it’s me. This isn’t a twenty-five-year reunion. It’s been five years. Five years since I’ve seen those deep chocolate eyes, the messy brown hair. He’s grown even more attractive over the years. More mature. Manlier, leaving that boy next door look behind with our divorce papers.
“Dean.” I’m able to cool my voice to make sure he doesn’t realize how affected I am by his presence.
His gaze flows up and down my body and I swallow past the lump in my throat and heat spreads like lava over my skin.
Thank God for those spin and yoga classes and grilled chicken and vegetables. Eat your heart out asshole. Check out what you missed out on.
“You look amazing.” One thing about Dean is that his eyes always tell his truth and it’s clear that his compliment is genuine.
“Wish I could say the same.” I cross my arms, finally finding my inner lioness.
He chuckles, rocking back on his heels and stuffing his hands into the pockets of his suit pants. The sleeves of his white button-down shirt are rolled up to his elbows, but his tie and vest are still in place along with a silver watch adorning his wrist. The sight of him in his gray suit stirs up the lady parts something fierce. Not that I’d ever let him know it.
“I was expecting a Victoria to do the drop-off.” He disregards my comment because that’s the problem with two people who know each other so well. He can tell my truth just as well as I can his, and he knows I’m full of s**t.
“Sorry to disappoint. Paperwork is on your chair.”
I desperately want to flee this room, but he’s blocking the door and there’s no possible way I can get closer to him at this point. I might be able to roar like the lioness from afar, but I’ll crumble like an overzealous cub if either of us move.
“So, you’re working for Hannah Crowley?” He leans his shoulder on the doorframe, no intention of moving. Go figure, the man tormented me all through our relationship—just in a good way back then.
“Yes. I’m her marketing manager.”
“I like the idea of the foundation…giving girls empowerment, letting them know they have a voice.”
“Yes, it’s a wonderful thing she’s put together.” I pray I look more relaxed than I feel. My heart is pounding inside my chest like a college drumline.
“You like it?” he asks, his eyes never leaving mine.
He’s all cool and calm like he always was, while I sit here trying not to let my big girl image falter. He might be the only man on this planet who has the capacity to do that.
“I do.” I look around his office. “So, you’re a tax attorney?”
He chuckles again, his strong, broad shoulders rising and falling. “Crazy, right? After I recovered and finally got my s**t together, went to law school.”
“You picked the most boring part of the legal system?” I raise an eyebrow.
A smile continues to tease his lips. “It’s more interesting than you think.”
“I should get going.” I step forward, not interested in partaking in a where-are-you-now conversation.
He glances to my left hand for a second and a full smile creeps up his lips. “How about dinner?”
I wrinkle my forehead. He’s still insane.
“I don’t think so.” I step away from the desk with the hopes he’ll step further into the room, so we can circle around one another until I’m at the door.
“Why not? Unless your wedding ring is being repaired, doesn’t look like you’re committed. Did I ruin you for all other men?” He laughs to show it’s a joke, but his comment only lights the fuse on my anger and resentment.
“Just because I’m not married doesn’t mean I’m not committed.”
Way to go, Chels. Lie.
“So, you have someone?” He stands straighter but never leaves the doorframe.
“Well...”
“I did ruin you.”
“No. You. Didn’t,” I say through gritted teeth.
“Relax, Ches. It’s a joke. Good to see you. I wanted to reach out a few times, but never knew how you’d take it.”
“How I would take it?”
He shrugs. “Yeah, I mean you were the one who walked out on me.”
“Excuse me?” My inner b***h has come out to play. Forget this polite crap. Hannah will understand when I kick her tax attorney in the balls.
“If memory serves, I woke up one day to an empty bed.”
A cynical huff leaks out of me. “Glad to see a law degree didn’t change you. You’re still the arrogant jackass you’ve always been.”
“What am I missing?” he asks, and I swear my blood runs hot enough to boil a lobster.
Forget him, I’m going to shoulder check him on my way out.
I stomp toward the door.
“No worries, Mr. Bennett, Victoria Clarke will be your contact at RISE from this point on.” I bulldoze forward, thinking I can push right past him and into the freedom of the hallway.
He steps into the center of the doorframe, his broad shoulders and tall figure filling the empty space. I almost tip forward into his chest from the sudden stop.
“I’m kidding, Chels,” he whispers and there’s those damn chocolate eyes front and center and fixated on me again. “There’s not a day that goes by that you don’t cross my mind.”
His smell reappears like smoke filling a room. I shouldn’t inhale the toxic scent, but I do, and my body relaxes instantly.
“I have somewhere to be.” I ignore his confession. A confession I’ve waited five years to hear. A confession I thought I’d get a day after I packed my bags and left. He never came after me. He never fought for us.
“Where?” he asks.
I look him square in the eye, hoping like hell he can’t see the wetness that’s been threatening behind my lids since I first heard his voice. “I have a date.”
“A date?” He seems surprised.
“Is it that hard to believe?” I say with venom.
He shakes his head. “Not at all. So that means you’re single then?”
I hate to admit to him that I have yet to find anyone special. “Yes.”
He steps forward, our chests only millimeters apart. I crane my neck to look up at him. “Cancel and let me take you out. We can catch up.”
My entire body is on fire. How did the pull to this man not die after I signed away my right to be a Bennett? The electricity is still a magnetic pull between us.
“You’re dreaming if you ever think you’ll lay a hand on this body again.”
“I asked for dinner, not a f**k,” he says, no emotion crossing his face. His eyes are cloudy now and I can’t tell what exactly he wants from me.
“I see a law degree didn’t erase your crass side.” I tilt my head to the side, jut my hip out and wait for his comeback.
“Don’t worry Chels, I can still be as crass as you need me to be to get you off while you ride me.” He winks and my lady parts scream and fight, wanting to be heard. To let him show us how great he is. I refuse to give in though. I’m no longer the doe-eyed girl I once was.
“I only liked the cowgirl position because your d**k was so small it was the only way I could feel it.”
A slow grin warms his face. “Keep telling yourself that. We both know I wasn’t even all the way in your mouth before you’d be choking during a blowjob.”
He stands there all smug. I take my two hands and plant them on his apparently still muscular chest and shove him so I can escape. God help me. He falters back and I storm out of there.
“Chels,” he pleads as I walk steadily out of the office.
“f**k you, Dean.” I raise my middle finger in the air and luckily since everyone has left for the day, the elevator comes before he can chase me down. Not like he would. He didn’t when it mattered, why would he now?
When the elevator doors close, I will the tears to wait. A drop trickles down my cheek. By the time I’m on the first floor, walking across the lobby to the security desk to drop my visitor badge, I’m wiping away my tears.
“Thank you again,” I mumble, dropping the badge and continuing to the revolving doors. Once I’m back outside on the sidewalk of a perfect spring evening in Chicago, I flag a taxi down and slide in, finally allowing myself to crumble.
“Nearest red line L station,” I say and bury my head into my hands.
The tears are hot and fast and uncontrollable. Not because of the sparing match he outwitted me in. I couldn’t very well continue on the path of the small p***s. Back in college, all his locker room buddies were jealous that a guy who had everything got to have a huge d**k, too. Once his pro ball prospects crashed and burned, they probably said, ‘at least he’s got that d**k going for him. He could make a killing in porn.’
Why am I even thinking about this?
I pull my cell phone out, not knowing who to talk to about this. My cousin Skylar would only warn me to stay the hell away from him. Plus, her and her fiancé Beckett are in Utah, packing their houses up for their fresh start. Her sister Zoe would likely head down to his office and beat the s**t out of him.
My fingers move, and I dial the only person who would understand, even if she’s in her happily ever after bubble now.
“What’s up, Chelsea?” Victoria asks, the happiness alive and well in her tone. “Did you know he bought the house next to my mom?!”
Reed Warner, the f*****g prince.
“Did he? I didn’t know.” I really try to inflect some sort of excitement for my friend, but all I see is darkness around me.
“What’s wrong?” she asks.
The phone muffles slightly and I hear a few faint kissing sounds.
“I saw the tax attorney.”
“Is he hot? You’ve been into good guys lately and what tax attorney isn’t a good guy, right?” She giggles.
“Hey now,” Reed says in the background close enough for me to realize they’re probably laying down in their new house getting ready to christen it or something.
“He’s not a good guy, Vic.” I take a deep breath, wishing I could scream at the top of my lungs right now. “He’s my ex-husband!”
“Whoa,” Reed interrupts again obviously hearing me through the phone.
“You’re busy, I’ll let you go.”
“No, you won’t. Meet us at Reed’s in half an hour.”
“What?” Reed doesn’t sound too enthused about the plan. “But—” The phone muffles again.
“I’m calling Cooper to let you up in case you get there before us,” Victoria says when she gets back on the line.
“Okay, thanks.” I click off the phone. “I’m sorry, can you go to Michigan and Erie?” I ask the cab driver.
He nods and horns honk as he weaves all the way to the left to turn around.
It’s then that I remember Glen. Opening my phone up to our thread of messages, I now have fifteen unread from him.
Glen: It’s cool. Almost here?
Glen: ??
Glen: What’s taking you so long?
Glen: Hello?
Glen: Earth to Mars?
Glen: Are you standing me up?
Glen: Last chance before I leave…
Glen: You f*****g b***h.
Whoa. What the hell?
Glen: What is wrong with you?
Glen: Who doesn’t tell someone they can’t make it?
Glen: Who raised you? A pack of werewolves?
Glen: No wonder you can’t find anyone.
Glen: You’re such a loser that you have to be on a dating site.
Glen: The picture probably wasn’t even you.
Glen: Even if it was, you weren’t all that.
Dodged that bullet.
Me: Something came up—forever. Have a nice f*****g life shithead. Go to hell.
I tuck my phone back into my purse, searching for tissues.
By the time we pull up to Reed’s condo building, Connor’s friendly smile is in place as he opens the taxi door for me.
“Miss Walsh, nice to see you again.” I’ve only met Connor once previously when I had to come and pick up Victoria for a night out.
“Thanks, Connor.”
I enter the condo building and instead of going up, I wait for the happy twosome in the lobby since I was much closer to Reed’s home base than they were. It’s not like I have a key to his place. Having nothing better to do, I pull up the internet on my phone and search: Dean Bennett, Attorney. Sure as s**t there’s my ex-husband in all his white teeth glory listed under the Associates tab on the Heiberman and Lipe Law Firm webpage.
Fucking karma, what did I do to piss you off?
- Writer
