I packed boxes, and he carried them. Half of my life had been moved up one floor and into his apartment. I wanted to finish. Had set aside the entire evening. The girls offered to help, but I wanted, before I merged my life with Carter, the time to myself. He’d be busy anyway, a dinner date set with his mother. Apparently her private investigator had finished his report and she wanted to “go over it” with him. I eyed him from my spot on the living room floor, his arms above his head as he pushed a new air filter in place. “What time’s dinner?” I asked.
“Seven.” He got it in and stepped off the toolbox, moving closer to me as he wiped his hands off on his pants. “I can bring you back a plate.”
“Nah.” I busied myself with my DVDs, flipping through five seasons of Friends and wondering if I would actually watch them again. “I’ve got a frozen pizza I can heat up.”
“You seem stressed about my dinner.” He stopped in front of me, and I set down the DVDs, looking up at him.
“Aren’t you?” He seemed ridiculously calm. Annoyingly so.
“Her decision doesn’t matter.” He crouched before me so that we were eye level. “It’s not going to affect us.”
“Oh yeah.” I snorted. “What’s financial security?” I shrugged. “You don’t need that.”
“I’d rather have you.”
I shook my head and pulled a stack of novels off the shelf. “You say that Carter but … you don’t know. I know what a sacrifice that is.” I looked at him. “I lost everything. It’s not easy. It’s romantic, but it isn’t easy. It sucks. And I don’t want to be the one responsible for you to go through that.”
“You don’t think you’re worth it.”
“Changing the direction of your life?” I looked away from him. “No.”
He caught my chin and pulled it to him. “Look at me, Chloe.”
I did. His eyes grounded me. I could look at them all day. My calm in the storm, they looked at me as if they knew all of my secrets and loved me for them. They were certain and strong, as if they had never second-guessed anything. “You act like I’m the only one giving up something.”
“You are.”
“My parents’ wealth is the exact same as that Maserati that sat across from our building. You could have had it. You could have had that life, either with him or a million other guys in this city. But you didn’t. You stayed with me. You didn’t even hesitate.”
“That’s different.”
“It’s not.” He shook his head. “I love you, Chloe. Everything else fades away from that.”
I thought of my mother’s advice, how stupid it was when compared to a love like this. There was no room for a safety net with love, not when you had feelings that overrode all reason. I grabbed ahold of his shirt and pulled his mouth to me, scared of the depth of my feelings for him. I wanted to give him everything and was heartbroken that I had nothing to offer, my love seeming paltry in the face of all that he was risking.
Being 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.”
“But … they’re beautiful.” And they were. Some of her best. They took my breath away every time I walked in his apartment.
“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—”
“I don’t care if they approve of you.” He got the tie loose and yanked it off. Stopped before me and pulled at the bottom of my sweatshirt, his fingers snagging my T-shirt too, pulling both of them over my head. He grabbed at the front of my sweatpants, his hands dipping inside and around my waist, big palms settling on and squeezing my ass, yanking me hard against him as he kissed me. “I love you,” he said, pulling off my mouth and pushing me down on the couch, rolling my sweatpants down the length of my legs. “That’s the only thing that matters. We’ll figure the rest out.” He stood above me, my heart beating hard, and I watched as he removed his belt, pulled his dress shirt over his head, and then his pants unzipped and everything I loved was before me, naked. Then on top of me, hard.
After that … I lost track of thought.