Lip Service (Private Relations 2)

Chapter 1

Chloe stood at the entrance to Deacon’s building, waiting impatiently for him to buzz her in. It was Sunday, and it was football season. Preseason, anyway. They had a standing arrangement to watch the games at his condo.

Deacon’s crackly, disembodied voice came through the intercom, “Hello?”

“Hey, It’s me. Buzz me in?”

“Me, who?”

“Chloe, you ass.”

“Chloe who?”

“Chloe Marie James. Your sister. Let me up, jerk.”

Hearing his tinny laugh through the speaker, Chloe rolled her eyes.

Chloe heard the door unlock, followed by a loud buzzing noise. Grabbing the door, she quickly moved inside, glad she didn’t have to continue standing there in the heat. Summer in California was miserable.

As she made her way to the bank of elevators and waited, she heard a knock. Turning around, she saw Chris there with a six-pack in his hand. She made her way back to the door and opened it for him.

“Hey, thanks. It’s frickin’ hot out there today! Where’s what’s his face?” Chris asked, a look of minor disgust on his face.

Chloe didn’t even know why he was asking, because he clearly hated the guy.

“Peter won’t be coming. We split up.”

Wincing, Chris said, “Shit, Chlo. I’m sorry. I’m an asshole. I didn’t know. You okay?”

Pressing the up arrow on the elevator urgently now, wanting to escape the conversation, she said, “It happened this morning. Via text. I’m pissed off, mostly.”

Chris’s eyebrows shot up and he said, “Via text? That’s harsh.”

“It wasn’t his finest moment.”

“Wait. He broke up with you? How is that even possible?”

The doors to the elevator slid open, and they stepped in. After pressing the button for the seventeenth floor, he said, “Want me to go kick his ass? I’m pretty sure I could take him.”

Snorting, Chloe said, “I’m sure you could, but I’m good, I think.”

“Let me know if that changes. Seriously,” Chris said, pinning her with a look.

As the doors slid open, they walked in silence to Deacon’s door. Chloe raised her hand and knocked.

The door opened after a minute and Deacon said, “Oh. Hey, guys! Where’s Peter?”

“Not coming. Stuff came up. But look who I found instead,” Chloe said, grinning.

Deacon stepped back to let them in, then walked back into his kitchen. Chris shot Chloe a curious look, b

ut made no comment.

Sara looked up from her place on the couch and grinned, saying, “Hey, guys! Nachos and quesadillas in the kitchen if you’re interested.”

Chris walked over, and leaned down to give her a kiss on the cheek and said, “Food is so much better on Sundays since you moved in. If you weren’t taken…”

Sara laughed and said, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Deacon shouted, “The hell you will, Sara,” from the kitchen.

Laughing, Chris said, “I’m about to get punched, aren’t I?”

Chloe watched gleefully as Deacon stalked out to the living room and punched Chris in the arm.

“Get your own, douche. This one is mine.”

“Ouch! Fuck, dude. Really? You know that was a joke,” Chris said, rubbing his arm.

Laughing, Deacon said, “Which is why I didn’t hit you harder. Wuss.”

Chloe moved to the kitchen, grabbing a bag of pizza rolls from the freezer. Putting it against his wounded arm, she said, “Here you go, cupcake.”

Shooting her a bland look, he raised his middle finger, looking at it, then at her and back again.

Deacon continued to laugh, while Sara bit her lip.

Relenting, Chloe took the pizza rolls back into the kitchen. She was surprised when Chris followed her. He snatched the pizza rolls from her and put them on his arm for a minute, glaring.

“Your brother is fucking vicious, Chloe.”

“You shouldn’t poke the bear, Chris. You know how he is about Sara.”

Nodding, he said, “Yeah. True. So, I suppose you’re not mentioning the Peter thing to them because…”

“Didn’t wanna talk about it. I don’t even know why I told you. Maybe because you’re safe. I dunno.” Chloe shrugged.