Chapter 91
Parker's POV:
I leaned against Chloe's door, grocery bag at my feet, checking my phone for the third time.
6:27 PM. She should be home any minute.
The elevator dinged down the hall. I looked up.
Chloe stepped out, her blazer slung over one arm, hair slightly messy from the wind. The moment she saw me, her face lit up—that tired, stressed-out look melting into something softer.
"Miss Chloe," I said, pushing off the doorframe. "Welcome home."
She laughed, that low, genuine laugh I fucking loved. "You're ridiculous."
"And you're beautiful."
She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling as she unlocked the door. I grabbed the grocery bag and followed her inside.
The second the door clicked shut, I dropped the bag on the floor.
"Parko—"
I pulled her against me, one hand fisting in her hair, the other gripping her waist. She moaned into my mouth and kissed me back instantly, just as hungry, her hands sliding up my chest, nails digging in just enough to make me groan.
We didn't make it to the bedroom.
---
Later, Chloe lay sprawled on the couch, one arm draped over her eyes, completely wrecked.
I grinned, standing up and stretching. "Stay there. I'll cook."
"Mmm." She didn't move. "You're the best."
I kissed the top of her head and headed to the kitchen.
By the time I finished—garlic shrimp pasta, because she'd mentioned craving it last week—Chloe still hadn't moved.
I walked over, scooped her up.
She yelped, then laughed, wrapping her arms around my neck. "I can walk, you know."
"I know." I carried her to the dining table, setting her down gently. "But why would I let you?"
She looked up at me, eyes soft. "What did I do to deserve you?"
"Exist." I kissed her forehead. "Now eat."
---
After dinner, Chloe disappeared into the bathroom. I heard the shower start as I washed the dishes, humming under my breath.
By the time I finished cleaning up and showered, Chloe was already in bed, eyes half-closed.
I slid under the covers, immediately reaching for her.
She caught my hand. "Nope."
"Nope?"
"I have work tomorrow." She yawned. "Early meeting."
I groaned, dropping my head onto her shoulder. "Ma'am, I've got energy to spare."
She patted my cheek, smirking. "Save it for the weekend. I'll make it worth your while."
I exhaled slowly, flopping onto my back.
Chloe curled into my side, her breathing evening out within minutes.
I stared at the ceiling, wide awake, trying not to think about how fucking gone I was for this woman.
---
The next morning, Chloe was a whirlwind—grabbing coffee, toast, her bag, keys.
"You're going to spill that," I said, watching her juggle everything.
"I'm fine." She kissed my cheek, already halfway out the door. "Lock up when you leave!"
And then she was gone.
I stood there for a second, grinning like an idiot, before grabbing my jacket.
I was almost at the door when someone knocked.
I frowned, pulling it open.
A man stood there. Late-thirties. His eyes flicked over me—confusion, then dismissal.
I recognized him instantly.
Marcus Hayes.
He didn't recognize me. Why would he? I didn't do the corporate scene. I was just "that YouTube guy" to people like him.
"Sorry," he said, voice clipped. "Wrong apartment."
He turned and walked away.
---
Maya's POV:
"Delivery for Maya Bennett?"
I looked up from my desk. A delivery guy stood in the doorway, holding the biggest bouquet of roses I'd ever seen.
Oh no.
"That's me," I said, rubbing my temples.
He grinned, walking over. "Mr. Sterling asked me to deliver these personally."
I took the bouquet—barely able to see over the top of it—and forced a smile. "Thank you."
Sarah and Mark froze in the hallway, eyes wide.
"Maya," Sarah said, practically squealing. "Mr. Sterling is so romantic! Didn't he send you a whole car full of roses yesterday?"
"Something like that," I muttered.
Mark leaned against the doorframe, grinning. "So when's the wedding?"
I gave them a tight smile and set the roses on my desk.
They took up the entire surface.
I sighed, grabbed the bouquet, and headed out.
---
"Here," I said, shoving the flowers at Chloe as soon as I reached the restaurant. "These are for you."
Chloe burst out laughing. "Holy shit, Maya. Are you hitting on me? Because if you are, I'm flattered."
I linked my arm through hers, dragging her toward the entrance. "Enjoy them."
"Wait, wait." She pushed the flowers back at me. "These are from Adam, aren't they?"
"So?"
"So I'm not taking them." She smirked. "What if he shows up demanding them back? I'd look like an idiot."
I groaned, stuck holding the massive bouquet as we sat down.
---
After we ordered, Chloe leaned forward, eyes bright. "So. How was dinner with the Sterlings?"
I took a sip of water. "Fine. They were... nice. Mrs. Sterling and Robert really love Amy. They're already fighting over who gets to pick her up from daycare."
"Maya." Chloe smiled. "What are you waiting for? He's rich, he loves you, his family's nice. Marry the man."
Before I could answer, a voice cut through the noise.
"Chloe?"
I froze.
Chloe went rigid.
I turned. A man stood behind us.
Marcus Hayes.
"Chloe," he said again, eyes wide. "It really is you."
Chloe's expression went cold. "So what?"
"I went to your apartment this morning." He stepped closer. "Someone else was living there."
"I...Yes, I moved."
"Where?"
She sneered. "None of your business."
"Chloe—"
"Don't." Her voice was sharp. "I'm not inviting you over, Marcus. So don't even ask."
He flinched, then tried a different approach. "Come on. You've made your point. It's been long enough. I don't believe you'd throw away everything we had."
He reached for her hand.
I grabbed my water glass and threw it in his face.
Marcus sputtered, water dripping down his suit.
Chloe stared at me, eyes wide, then her lips trembled—like she was trying not to cry.
Marcus wiped his face, turning toward me, expression dark.
Chloe shot to her feet, stepping between us. "Leave her alone."
"I will," Marcus said coldly. "If you come back to me. We can—"
I grabbed the bouquet of roses and launched them at his head.
"Asshole! You want her to go back to what, exactly? So she can be your mistress while you stay married?"
I threw another rose.
"You had your wife at home and Chloe on the side. And now you have the nerve to show up here?"
Marcus dodged, face turning red.
"I'm telling you," I said, voice shaking with anger, "Chloe's done with you. She's moved on. She doesn't want some old, married bastard like you."
Marcus's hand shot out, grabbing my wrist.
He raised his other hand.
Chloe screamed.
Before he could swing, someone grabbed his wrist.
Adam.
His presence filled the space, cold and dangerous.
Marcus looked up, face going pale. "Mr. Sterling?"