Chapter 5 CHLOE

“Where in the world have you been, Jase? It’s been ages since we’ve seen you around here.” She said, smiling when they disentangle, five minutes later.

It was probably a minute or two, but…

Jason chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. That’s his nervous tic. Why is he nervous?

“I’ve just been really busy with work, I’ve barely had a minute to myself.”

Why is he explaining himself to her?

“Even during the holidays?” She asks, cocking her head.

My eyes were flicking between them rapidly, not wanting to miss any cue.

Jason smiles deprecatingly.

“Well, who am I to judge? I’ve hardly been around, either,” she laughs. “Work, you know…”

“Still at VTM?” Jason asks.

VTM?! My eyes bulged a little, I think. That was one of the top event planning and interior decor companies in Boston. I was impressed, slightly.

Stancy eyed my fiancé coyly. “And how do you know that, Jace?”

My eyes moved to him so sharply that I almost had whiplash. He was rubbing his neck again, smiling so sheepishly.

Feeling incredibly left out of the conversation —again, I shifted on my feet, clearing my throat rather loudly—it went unnoticed by the way. We were definitely going to have a long conversation about this.

“Mum keeps me updated on the local news,” he shrugged.

She hummed, like she didn’t believe that one bit. I didn’t think I did either.

“Well, it was great seeing you again, Jace,” she beams, hugging him again. “I hope we find the time to catch up soon.”

“Definitely,” Jason affirmed.

I watched him watch her go, and tried to see her through his eyes.

Looking pretty and sophisticated, she still managed to carry that ‘girl-next-door’ aura. The slight sway in her hips said she knew exactly what she was doing.

I told myself I wasn’t jealous, but the lie tasted bitter on my tongue.

“Who’s she?” I asked.

“Her name is Stancy - Marcy’s sister…” he said evasively.

I remember Marcy, we just met a while ago, Jason. Who’s Stancy?” I asked again.

“She lives next door. I’ve known her since childhood.”

His voice had that calm, measured tone he used when he was hiding something. I mean, I could understand they’ve been friends since they were in nappies, but childhood friends didn’t go around hugging each other like that.

“Why didn’t you introduce me?” I crossed my arms, waiting for an explanation that never came.

Jason looked at me, shock written all over his face. He hadn’t even realized, so caught up in the storm that was Stancy. I hated her in that moment.

The silence stretched thin. It told me everything I wanted to know. So over him, and the entire situation, I walked around him, heading inside, past a smirking Derek - God, how I wanted to slap that smirk off his handsome face.

“You’re back?” Gigi called out from somewhere around the kitchen area.

“Yeah. I have a headache, so I’m going to lie down for a bit,” I lie, wanting to get away from all the confusion of the last few minutes.

“Sure, hon.”

Upstairs, I ran a bath, piled my hair high on my head, and put on my noise-canceling headphones. I was tense. Too aware of my body and too restless for comfort, the water did nothing to quiet the ache beneath my skin. With Rihanna crooning in my ears, I relaxed beneath the bubbles, consciously turning off my thoughts.

For a moment, I thought I’d imagined the shift in the air, seated on the edge of the tub, elbows on his knees, watching me with an unreadable expression in his eyes.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” he said in a low tone. “Stancy was my childhood best friend. We lost touch when I left town for college. It was a bit jarring to see her after so many years, is all.”

“Just friends?” I asked skeptically, running my eyes over him.

“Babe, that’s all we were, I swear.”

I nodded. Maybe I was overreacting. I've been told I had an overactive imagination one too many times, so maybe that was why my hunch was screaming that there was something more Jason wasn't saying. Either way, I was going to believe him—innocent till proven guilty and all that…

‘You hippocratic bitch,’ I chided myself mentally.

“So we’re good?”

“Yeah,” I sighed.

“Good. I hate fighting with you.” He caressed my knee. “Mum said you had a headache?”

“It’s nothing. I just need to lie down for a bit,” I said, coming out of the tub.

Jason leaned back, watching me towel my body dry, his eyes greedily drinking me in, lingering on my curves, reminding me why I usually felt pretty damn confident naked.

“You know you can have it, right?” I said, hanging the towel up.

“Yeah, but in just a few weeks, babe,” he said, standing. “Doesn’t mean I can’t look, though.”

Shaking my head ruefully, I exited the bathroom. Claiming a headache was a really bad idea, because there was a slight dull ache brewing near my brows. Turning down the lights and drawing the drapes, I lay in the dark, mind wandering to the events of the day - and last night. When I slept, it was to dreams of mayhem—there was no other way to describe

dreaming of Derek and me, entangled beneath the sheets.