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My mind goes back to what Chloe said before we left for dinner, how things happen for a reason to make us who we are today, how all of our choices mix in with things beyond our control, shaping our own reality.

I pick up my Old Fashioned and take a big sip. The whiskey is smooth all the way down, and I take another gulp, wanting it to dull the ringing in my head, reminding me that my choices have led to hurting Chloe in the past…and how they’re going to again.

She’s so much more than I deserve.

“Yeah,” Chloe says, answering Quinn’s question. I zoned out and missed what she asked. “I was the most involved with season one, but I think the showrunners have done a good job keeping the show close to the series while expanding side characters more than I did since the books are all told through Kellie’s point of view.”

“That is so freaking cool.” Quinn leans in. “And you go to all the premieres?”

Chloe nods. “I do, and I went to two Emmy Award shows with Charles when he was nominated. It was…rather boring,” she admits with a laugh. “I was so hungry the whole time. Now you,” she starts and looks at me, “get to suffer through them with me as my hot date.”

“I suppose I can be your arm candy,” I joke, and Chloe’s lips curve into a smile, lighting up her whole face.

“Do you have to live in LA?” Quinn asks, sucking down a large mouthful of her cocktail. “Because of all the TV series stuff?”

“No, I don’t. My editor is in New York, but my publicist and agent are in LA. We meet face to face, but pretty much everything can be done online or via Zoom now. Though I was recently approached by a producer about writing a series.”

“Ohhh, cool! But, what, uh, does that mean?” Quinn asks.

“A network who may or may not have produced some epic fantasy series before wants me to basically be in charge of the writing for two seasons of a new fantasy show that’s a twist on the old King Arthur legend.”

“That sounds awesome!” Quinn says excitedly, stirring her cocktail with the straw.

“It does, but I don’t know if I want to do it,” Chloe goes on.

“Why not?” I put my hand over hers again, needing to touch her.

“It would require me to stay in LA for another year or so, and would take away time from writing my own books. And I, uh, just don’t want to be tied to LA.”

“You don’t like it there?” Archer asks. “The weather is shit here in the winter. I’d love to move somewhere warmer, but we can’t leave family here.”

“Oh, the weather is wonderful there. Waking up to sunshine more days than not has done wonders for my mental health, I’m sure, but…” She trails off, biting her lip as she looks at her glass of wine.

“But you don’t want to be away from Sam,” Quinn finishes with a big smile. “That’s so sweet, and I get it. Long-distance is hard.”

“But doable,” Archer adds quickly, for our sake.

“Oh, for sure.” Chloe looks at me again, and the second our eyes meet, a rush goes through me. I want to lay her down and slowly trail my tongue down her body, hovering over her tight pussy, taking my time and teasing her before I finally dive in, tasting her sweet cunt and licking up every drop she gives me as I eat her out. “It helps that neither of us have anything tying us down other than work.”

All at once, the moment is over, pulled out from under me like a rug from my feet. I feel Archer’s eyes on me and avoid looking at him and his unspoken question.

No, I haven’t told Chloe yet.

Because in a few short months, I will have something tying me down to Chicago.

“They did offer quite a bit of money,” Chloe admits, picking up her wine and taking a drink. “Not that I need it,” she adds almost shyly. The waiter brings our appetizers, and the conversation shifts to the antics Quinn and Archer’s kids have pulled the last few weeks. We talk and laugh the rest of dinner, and when the bill is paid, we leave the restaurant with the intention of walking around the block a few times before calling it a night.

“I think we’ve been replaced,” Archer says, looking over his shoulder at Quinn and Chloe, who are walking down the sidewalk with their arms linked, laughing hysterically at something one of them said.

“It looks like we have.”

“If they do lesbian stuff, do you want to watch?” Archer asks seriously.

“You set up one camera, I’ll man the other,” I say back, just as serious.

He laughs first and shakes his head. It’s been a while since we’ve been out like this, though even when we lived together, we were both going through hell as we finished our residency. We hardly had time to sleep, let alone go out and have a social life.


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