Trick-or-Treat Cute - Chapter 4

Jack found Drew as soon as he entered the party, and he almost laughed. His friend towered over just about everyone around him as a general rule, and tonight was no different. And he was dancing. Well, lumbering. Jack couldn’t imagine those slippers were much for improving Drew’s admittedly weak moves on the dance floor.

Then his eye snagged on Drew’s dance partner.

He could only see her costume in random pieces through the dark net of his mask as dancers moved across the floor, obscuring a full view of her. But he could see the red hair, the pale blue-green skin, patchwork dress and huge, staring eyes. Drew had found an actual Sally!

His giant white head must have caught the DJ’s attention in the dim light, and he was gratified by the intro and the theme music. The crowd parted and Jack hesitated for only a moment before a wild rush of confidence flooded through him. He stretched his arms wide, then made a grand bow to Sally, who stood alone in the middle of the dance floor. Drew hovered closer than the rest of the crowd, as if he wasn’t sure what to do.

But Jack knew exactly what to do. He strode forward, his hand extended. Sally, eyelashes fluttering—damn that makeup was good, he could tell even through the black netting—timidly extended her own hand. It was warm even through both their layers of gloves when he clasped it.

He knew his voice wouldn’t be heard over the music and the noise of people murmuring, so he pulled Sally into his arms and began to whirl her dramatically across the floor, spine straight and arms in a proper dance frame. Scattered applause rippled through the crowd, and he grinned. This was just like the old days when he and Chloe would get dressed up, fully committing to the bit of whatever characters they’d come up with.

He tried to look down, but this close, the mask blocked his view of his Sally. Her wide eyes were all he could see, blinking up at him with what might have been trusting wonder.

It also might have been confusion. It was really hard to see through this thing, even straight on.

He ignored a tap on his shoulder. Then a hand clasped it firmly, spinning him around. His hands dropped away from Sally and he saw Drew, his bear face ludicrously cute in the spooky room. He was saying something, but Jack couldn’t hear him, so he pantomimed his incomprehension and Drew’s expression went stormy. Suddenly, the mask was gone, lifted clean off his head and tucked under Drew’s arm. Now he could see and hear much better, and he leaned forward to catch his friend’s words.

“It’s Chloe, you idiot. The woman who broke your heart.” Drew’s meaty finger stabbed over Jack’s shoulder. He turned, seeing Sally clearly now. The makeup obscured her features, but after he mentally stripped away the contouring and virtual stitches…he recognized her. And those huge eyes were filling up with tears.

Chloe whirled and fled from the dance floor, her hand covering her mouth, her shoulders heaving.

***

That was Jack? That was Jack! Chloe stumbled out of the party and into the cool night air of the parking lot. The same bouncer was still working the door. “Hey, honey. You okay?” he called out.

“Fine!” she shouted, stumbling as she ran toward her car, fumbling in her patchwork bag for her keys. Hot tears cascaded from her eyes, obscuring her vision. A horn honked and she stopped, gasping, her heart thudding as an annoyed driver gave her the finger while they drove in front of her on their way out of the parking lot.

“Chloe!” That was Jack’s voice. The voice she’d wanted so much to hear five years ago. When he was supposed to tell her he was wrong, he wasn’t moving. Or that she should come with him because, dammit, they loved each other. They’d said it so many times.

Another voice rumbled. Drew probably. And as she geared up to run for her car again, a hand landed on her shoulder. “Chloe wait.” He was out of breath, and the vulnerable sound of it cut through her like a blade.

“Jack, you idiot.” Drew’s voice. She turned to see him shamble to a stop, cursing at his slippers, Jack’s white mask staring through blank eyes under his arm. When she looked up at Jack’s real eyes, they were tight with some emotion she couldn’t name. She was about to turn and shake off his hand when Drew said, “Just let her go, man. The last thing you need is to move back here only to have her break your heart again.”

Chloe’s eyes went so wide, her false eyelashes scraped against her brow. “Me break his heart? What the hell are you talking about? He was the one who kicked me to the curb for Chicago.”

“What?” Jack’s face was almost as pale as the mask. “You told me to get out.”

“Well, you were going, so why should I stick around to hear a bunch of reasons why I wasn’t good enough for you? You couldn’t wait to leave me behind.”

“Good enough for me? Leave you behind? What are you talking about? I was going to ask you to go with me, but you cut me loose so fast I never got the chance!”

“Um, guys, I’m going to go back to the party,” Drew said, handing the mask to Jack. “Text me when you want to leave, okay?”

“Yeah.” Jack’s voice was raspy and he took the mask from his friend as if he wasn’t quite sure what he was doing. They both watched Drew amble back toward the party until he reached the bouncer. Then Jack turned back to her, his face almost as pale as Jack Skellington himself. “You would have come with me? You hate big cities. I thought that was what made you chuck me out.”

Tears threatened again and Chloe blinked hard, those damn lashes practically creating their own breeze. “Yeah, I hate living in cities. But I loved you. I would have gone. If you’d asked.”

Jack’s gaze roamed around the lot. “Then why didn’t you let me ask?”

She shrugged, miserable. “I didn’t think you would. The fact that you knew how I felt about it and the way you led with the fact that you were getting transferred to Chicago, it seemed like that was what you meant. And it seemed like it would hurt less if I cut everything short.”

He took a step closer, his big, dark eyes riveted to her face. “And did it? Hurt less?”

She swallowed hard. Sniffed. “No.”

He set his huge mask on the hood of a nearby car and reached for her. “Oh, Chloe.”

Stepping into his long, strong arms, she let herself cry, but whether they were tears of regret or hope, she couldn’t have said.

***

Holy crap, he was holding Chloe for the first time in five years, and it was like no time at all had passed. His arms tightened around her when she shuddered with a sob. “Shh. It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay,” she wailed. “It’s my fault we wasted so much time. If I hadn’t been so hot-tempered…”

“Not your fault,” he said, rocking her from side to side. “I should have fought for us.”

In truth, they were both incredibly, ridiculously in the wrong. But they’d also been so young. Maybe now…

“Chloe, please tell me you don’t have a boyfriend or husband or something.” He said it quickly, knowing he would lose his nerve otherwise.

She raised her head. Her lovely makeup was smeared down her face and probably down the front of his costume too. He didn’t care. Didn’t care about anything except for the fact that she shook her head as she sniffed.

“Okay. Do you have your car? Can I take you home?” She should absolutely not be driving right now, as emotional as she was.

But was he any better? His heart was hammering.

She rummaged in her bag and handed him a set of keys, then found a tissue and blew her nose. He clicked the fob, and a Toyota nearby beeped and flashed its lights. He collected Chloe and his mask and brought them both over to the car, watching her carefully as she got into the passenger seat while he stowed his mask and texted Drew that he was taking her home.

“Where to?” he asked as she mopped her face, the makeup coming away in huge streaks.

“Same apartment.”

The familiarity of it was comforting, and he made the short drive almost on autopilot, glancing to check on her at every stoplight. Finally he pulled into the old complex with its squat brick buildings and parked the vehicle, wondering at how so little and so much could have changed in those five years.

“Can I see you up? Make sure you get in okay?”

She nodded and they both got out of the car. She took her keys from him at the building’s front door, and all too soon they were up the stairs and at her apartment. He knew he should go, but his feet felt rooted to the old industrial carpet. He cupped her jaw with one hand and swept a thumb across her cheekbone. “Can I see you again?”

She closed her eyes and leaned her cheek farther into his hand. “Why don’t you come in?”

“Are you sure?”

Her eyes snapped open and he almost laughed. There was his sharp girl who’d always known her own mind. “Fine,” he said, raising both hands. “You’re sure.”

She opened the door, which led directly into her little living room, and he immediately began cataloging what was the same and what had changed. But the overall impression was so her, he was hit with a wallop of nostalgia and peace.

She waved a hand at the sofa. “I need to wash my face. You want anything to drink?”

“Water? I can get it myself,” he said as she started to move toward the tiny kitchen. She paused for a second, just looking at him through her ravaged makeup, then nodded and disappeared into the bathroom. He could hear water running as he continued to look around the living room. Then she was back, not only with her face freshly scrubbed, but in soft, worn pajamas. Not so old that he remembered them though, sending a pang through his gut. He set down his water glass and beckoned to her. Something in her shoulders relaxed and she stumbled into him, muttering something about the makeup she’d smeared on his lapels before.

“Shh. I don’t care. I missed you so much, Chlo.”

She rested her forehead on his sternum. “Stop. I’m trying not to cry again.”

Nudging her chin up with one finger, he murmured, “Don’t cry then. Just kiss me.”

Her eyes, huge and nervous, met his. “Don’t play with me, Jack. You’ve only just got back and this is a bad time for—” He interrupted her words with a soft brush of his lips, a question more than a kiss.

“Whenever I’m with you it’s a good time. And I’m not wasting any more of those.”

***

Chloe searched for any warning signs, any signal inside her that this was a bad idea. She expected a landslide, but her signaling system seemed to be utterly broken.

“Isn’t this a bad idea?” she murmured as his lips brushed against hers again. “Isn’t it too soon?”

He leaned back and met her gaze. “It is if you say it is. Always. The moment you say ‘no’ or ‘not yet,’ that’s it for me.”

Tears threatened again. She’d forgotten this was part of who Jack was. Tender. Considerate. Focused on her first. She shook her head, her throat too clogged for speech.

“Is that no, you don’t want this?” He started to move back, but she tightened her grip around his rib cage.

“I want.” The words came out hoarse, but they were there.

“Good. I’m always going to use all of my words with you from now on. I’m not making that mistake ever again.”

“Me neither,” she said, pulling back and lacing her fingers with his, tugging him back toward her bedroom.

“Are these words?” he asked, one eyebrow lifted as she turned on her bedroom light and returned to his arms, toying with the short hair at the nape of his neck.

She swallowed, trying to clear her throat. “I’ve missed you. So much. I’ve missed us. And finding out it was just some big misunderstanding made out of youthful pride…that makes me mad at young us, but…”

“But present-day us could be pretty great,” he said.

“And future us could be even better.” Now her voice was clear and strong. His dark brown eyes softened as if he might cry too.

“I couldn’t have said it better myself.” Then his lips were on hers again, but this time it wasn’t a brush or a question. It was steady and firm and so familiar and exactly right. His hands slid under her pajama top while hers found the fastening of his tie. Greedy fingers unbuttoned and stripped and stumbled over shoes and laughed over the tightness of his suit pants until his cock sprang free, bobbing slightly in the cool air. Chloe wrapped one hand around it, that familiar warm soft over hard, his low groan.

“I’m safe. Tested.” His voice sounded strangled as she sandwiched his length between them and brought his head down for another kiss.

“Same,” she said against his lips. She wanted to add that there’d been practically nobody because nobody measured up, but now wasn’t the time. His body was so warm, familiar and right against hers. His hands tracing her rib cage, thumbs running along the curves of her breasts, spoke of both knowledge and exploration. Then, finally, one of his arms wrapped around her waist, his other hand cradling the back of her head, and that kiss was longer, deeper, even more full of promise than any that had come before.

***

Jack moved backward to sit on Chloe’s bed, bringing her down with him. “Condoms?” he murmured against her mouth, unable to stop kissing her. Later, he would taste every inch of her, re-map her body. But for now, he had to be inside her.

She fumbled with a nightstand drawer, and he reluctantly drew his lips away to let her focus. She brought out a sealed box of condoms and ripped it open, spilling out the contents with her shaking fingers. He ripped one off of the strip and handed it to her, gratified by the way she eagerly rolled it down his length, then straddled him and sank down in one slow, perfect move. She bit her lip and looked down at where they were joined and it was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen, her dark hair spilling across her face, her brow furrowed in concentration as she began to rock her hips, undulating and taking him deeper.

He licked his thumb and pressed it against her clit, relishing the strangled little moan she let out as he began to move in time to her rolling hips, feeling her tighten around him, their pleasure building in tandem. Her forehead pressed against his, her eyes tightly shut. “Ja-ack,” she groaned and her body shook in his arms, her pussy fluttering and squeezing his cock, leaving him helplessly shouting his own release and clutching her shaking body against his.

She took a deep, shuddering breath and opened her eyes, a loopy smile on her face. “Oh my God. I missed you so much.” She kissed him, their tongues tangling, hands roaming over warm, smooth skin, until he realized he’d better deal with the condom.

“Up for a sec,” he said, giving her butt a light slap. She whined as she complied, collapsing back on the duvet and looking absolutely perfect. “Wait there. I’ll be right back.” He went to the bathroom to deal with the condom and wash up, already planning round two, but when he returned, she was out cold.

“Chlo?” She frowned, her eyes still closed, recalcitrant as a child. He managed to tug the duvet from underneath her and cover her with it. “Do you want me to go?” he asked, wondering if she’d even wake up long enough to answer.

But she fumbled for his hand and tugged. “Stay.”

***

The next morning, Chloe drifted to consciousness feeling happy for no reason she could think of. Then she remembered the night before. Rolling over carefully, she found Jack, hair tousled and dark eyes shining in the morning light.

“Morning,” she said, suddenly shy.

“Morning.”

“How long have you been awake?”

“A little while.”

“You were just lying there?”

“Lying here, watching you, thinking.”

“What about?”

“Well…” He stretched and yawned, then propped himself up on one elbow, a mischievous smile in his eyes. “I guess I was wondering what you were doing for Thanksgiving. And maybe the rest of our lives.”