Chloe’s only moved into my place as of two weeks ago and the energy is already shifting between us. The routine we have fallen into is easygoing, with both of us modeling domestic bliss. Our days with each other include cooking together and movie nights, with restoring the car in between.
Whenever she leaves for work, I grow agitated. A discomfort builds inside of me in her absence and I become desperate to fill the time. Enough so, I spend the better part of my morning working out in the gym. But not even that is enough to satisfy the edge inside of me. I use it as an excuse to buy something stupid while Chloe is away at work.
It takes two days for my latest purchase to arrive. The shipping company sets up my new system in an empty room on the first floor of my house, far away from anyone else.
With hesitant steps, I walk toward the room, clutching onto the package Noah sent me after the Monza weekend. Taking a deep breath, I walk into the room. The F1 simulation system sits in front of massive monitors. My hands tremble as I walk up to the machine and rip off the brand-new plastic wrap.
The pedals mock me and remind me of the way I used to race. I ignore the urge to run out of the room, instead choosing to remove the standard steering wheel and replace it with Noah’s custom-made one. Pieces click into place as the new wheel dominates the front of the machine.
“If you don’t practice, you’ll never get back out there.” I hold on to the back of the leather chair and take a steady breath.
I press the power button, and the machine whirs to life. Tension sizzles beneath my skin at practicing with the new wheel.
This could be a disaster. A total and utter failure of epic proportions.
But it could also be the best thing to happen to you in years. Imagine getting back out there.
My dilemma is cut off by sneakers squeaking behind me.
I turn to find Chloe gaping at the machine.
She steps into the room. “Look at this setup! I can hear the nerds all over the world crying tears of joy.”
“This isn’t for nerds,” I mumble under my breath.
“Okay, sure. Whatever you say. But real talk: Can you play Mario Kart on it?”
My jaw drops open. “Mario Kart?”
She looks at the monitors with longing. “What I’d give to throw turtle shells and banana peels at other racers with this setup.”
The ridiculousness of her idea has me throwing my head back and laughing. “I honestly don’t know if this newer machine is compatible with it.”
“Then what is it for?”
“F1 racing.”
Her lips form an O. “Got it. Okay, well sorry to interrupt you. I’ll leave you to it then.” She walks backward before bumping into a wall.
“Wait.”
She halts.
“Do you want to test it out? If I can download Mario Kart, that is?”
Her eyes narrow. “Why do I have a feeling you’re trying to distract yourself so you don’t have to do whatever it is that you wanted to do in here?”
I grin. “Because that’s exactly what I’m doing.”
Her smile drops. “Then no thank you. I’ll pass.”
The last thing I want is to be left alone in this room. “Okay, fine. How about we compete in a Mario Kart match? Whoever has the highest score wins whatever they want.”
“Are you sure about that?”
I nod.
“All right, if that’s what you want. But just so you know ahead of time, I’m not betting on giving you a blowjob this time.”
My skin heats. “Why not?”
“Because if I win, I’m going to ask you to try out the F1 simulation with that fancy wheel you have there.” She points to the one Noah shipped.
“I better not lose then.”
I’m able to download the most recent version of Mario Kart without any issues.
Chloe cracks her knuckles one by one. “Step aside, sir. Bowser is here to rock and roll.”
“Bowser?”
“Did you expect me to pick Princess Peach? And here I thought you knew me better than that.” She sticks out her tongue.
My skin prickles with memories of that tongue on my skin. I cough as I load the screen, trying to rein in my hormones.
Chloe and I take turns competing in a championship against one another. She’s a natural, and I find it hard to keep up with her high scores. And worse, I barely put any effort into beating her.
I don’t mind losing the bet. As long as Chloe stays by my side, I can attempt the simulation afterward. Honestly, playing with her wasn’t about avoiding what I came in here to do. I just wanted to spend time together since she was gone the whole morning, and it seemed like a good idea.
She doesn’t leave once as I situate myself in the fake cockpit and start up the latest simulation game. My hands tremble as I get a feel for the throttle paddle. The fake F1 cars line up on the grid, one by one, reminding me of old race days.
Chloe’s hand covers mine. “I just want you to know I’m really freaking proud of you right now.”
A blush creeps into my cheeks. “It’s just a game.”
“It’s more than that.”
“How so?”
“This is your redemption.”
Chloe runs the needle through the linen before pulling it up over her head. She sits crisscross on one of the lawn chairs by the lake, seeming to enjoy the early morning breeze.
“What are you making?” I plop down on the chair beside her after my morning workout of mowing the lawn. Could I pay someone to do it? Sure. But could I give up the opportunity to give Chloe a front-row seat to me working the machine while hiding her attraction? Definitely not.
She flashes me the embroidery circle. It’s an exact replica of the lake and mountains surrounding us.
“Wow. You are incredibly talented. How did you make it look so real?” I peer over and check out the fine thread details. There has to be hundreds of multicolored stitches recreating the scene.
“First I sketch whatever design I want on the fabric. Then I pick the threads. For an intricate design like this, I split the threads to make it finer.”
My eyes widen. “Wait. You drew that first?”
“It’s not that hard.” Her cheeks flush.
“No. It’s incredible. Do you have pictures of other ones you created?”
I didn’t realize she was this good at her designs. They’re like pieces of art, woven together by thousands of threads. It’s a shame she hides this talent from the world.
She pulls out her phone and opens up an album. “Here. You can flip through all of those.”
I grab it with greedy hands. The different designs Chloe made range from picturesque nature scenes to quotes and poems. All her designs show up on different objects, from clothes to accessories. I had no clue she was this talented.
“Are you sure you don’t want to start up a shop? These are amazing.”
She laughs. “You’ve never seen other designs to know if that’s true. What if I’m secretly terrible and you have no clue?”
I roll my eyes and pull out my phone.
“What are you doing?”
“Researching the market.”
She snorts. “Why would you do that?”
“Because someone I know speaks from a tall soapbox to others about boosting their self-esteem yet doesn’t do the same to herself.”
“Burn,” she hisses.
I smirk and scroll through Etsy and Pinterest. Spending time with Maya taught me all the tricks of where to purchase certain types of custom items. There are quite a few talented embroidery shops, but nothing compares to the designs Chloe makes. It’s like she channels her inner Bob Ross and makes intricate landscapes out of thread and a needle.
“Okay. I’ve completed my analysis and have the results.” I turn toward her.
“And?” She bites her lip.
“Your designs are superior. The end. You need to start a shop, ASAP.”
She laughs. “I appreciate your kind words. It’s nice.”
“But?”
“But starting up a business is the last thing I should do.”
“Why not?”
“Well, once I go back to America, I need to pick my jobs back up. This summer has been fun and all, but reality will come knocking eventually. Brooke can’t live with some stranger subleasing my room forever.”
My stomach dips at her words. “When do you plan on leaving?”
She shrugs. “I’m not sure. I’m still figuring out when I’ll tell Matteo about who I am.”
Can I cast my vote for never? “And if you tell him?”
“Then I guess I’ll see from there. I’ve never been much of a planner.” Her smile doesn’t fill me with its accompanying warmth.
“Have you ever considered staying here, even after you tell him? Don’t you want to stay with your dad after being apart after all this time?” My voice carries a hopeful note.
Her eyes return to her embroidery circle. She fiddles with the needle, twirling it with her fingers. “Honestly, no, I didn’t think it was even an option to live here. I wasn’t thinking that far ahead when I booked my ticket. But now that you bring it up, I wonder if it’s a possibility.”
“Really?” I didn’t expect her to admit that. Maybe there is some hope after all.
“I mean he’s my dad, and I don’t have many ties in America besides Brooke. I’m not saying I’d stay, but it’s not exactly a no either. Does that make sense?”
It makes a hell of a lot of sense. All I need to do is convince someone who already wants to stay that she shouldn’t leave in the first place.
Mission accepted.
