Chapter 2: Blast from the Past

“No way. You lost your job?” Chase voiced his disbelief as they escaped the clutches of the highway’s worst traffic snarl.

Chloe let out a sigh, deeper and wearier than she intended. “That’s the reality of corporate life, especially when acquisitions come into play. The new execs didn’t waste time deciding who stays and who goes.” She inhaled, drawing the strength to cleanse the day’s negativity with each breath.

He glanced her way, warmth emanating from his eyes. “You survived today. That’s what counts. You’re resilient. You’ll land on your feet in no time,” he soothed.

She managed a chuckle, though it sounded more like a scoff. “Optimistic, aren’t we? The job market’s a desert, except in real estate, IT, and energy. And guess who reigns supreme in all three? Scott-Quinn Enterprise. Dominated by none other than Damian Scott himself.”

“Yeah, let’s keep this car a jerk-free zone,” he quipped.

“You don’t really know him. Only that your uncle and his dad are golf buddies.”

He shrugged. “We’ve crossed paths at social events, sure.”

“I ran into him today before you picked me up. After years of successfully avoiding him. After everything he did back in college. It’s a shame I didn’t meet you then. You could’ve stopped me from falling for a player.”

“You should’ve found me sooner.” His elbow found hers in a playful nudge.

“I should’ve.”

Chloe shifted in her seat, recalling when she first met Chase at a friend’s party a few years ago. He was in a relationship, but that dissolved quickly. She connected with him, bonding over shared passions from hiking to hanging out at indie concerts. Being in the same social circle helped strengthen their friendship. This realization warmed her heart, drawing a smile across her face.

“Look at that. A real smile. See? You’re bulletproof, Chloe. Corporate trash, heartbreakers, you eat ‘em for breakfast. Next up? Could be your rebound era. Maybe you’ll even catch feelings. Wild, right?”

The laugh that bubbled up from her was genuine despite the shitty day she’d had. In a world turned upside down, Chase’s steadfast friendship was a constant she deeply valued. The city lights blurred past as they drove, stirring a wave of nostalgia within her. Lester Harbor was her home and launchpad. High school, university, the grind, all building toward something real. Now her future lay wrecked—one swipe, and it all came crashing down.

Facing the uncertainty of unemployment, doubt crept in, whispering questions about her past choices. The car halted at a red light, and her gaze drifted outside, only to be captured by the sight of a new billboard. Scott-Quinn Enterprise was hiring. Her heart skipped, tempted to leap at this unexpected opportunity, yet she hesitated, her hand pausing above her phone.

Damian’s name hadn’t crossed her mind after years of therapy, of forgetting him. Yet, he was everywhere today. Was it a coincidence, or was fate weaving its threads around her?

Chase kept his eyes on the road, but his voice cut through the music. “Hey. You good over there? You look like you just saw a ghost—or your ex’s latest I*******m.”

She looked away from the haunting billboard, attempting to mask the turmoil inside. “I’m tired, that’s all. Let’s head home.”

***

Chase eased the Chevy to the curb outside Chloe’s place, the engine purring into silence. For a second, the only thing louder than the car was the unspoken tension hanging between them.

Her apartment building radiated historical charm and cozy urban living with its red brick façade and tall, arched windows. Ivy snaked up one side, adding a touch of green to the sturdy structure. Wrought-iron gates framed the entry, hinting at old-money charm, but apartment 2B was pure Chloe: quirky, safe, and hers. She didn’t just live here. She owned it. This was her sanctuary from the chaos.

She glanced at Chase, noticing how the streetlights highlighted his face’s contours, casting shadows that played upon his strong jawline and the soft curl of his hair. His tanned and toned arm was close enough that she could see the intricate pattern of the green bracelet he wore.

“You know, I’ve always loved that bracelet,” she said, touching the woven threads. “It suits you.”

“Yeah?” he asked, a half-smile forming on his lips. “It reminds me of the summer I spent as a volunteer in a Guatemalan village. A time of giving.”

The air around them seemed to charge with an electric current, the moment suspended in time. He leaned in, his gaze locked with hers, and for a heartbeat, Chloe thought she might drown in the depth of his eyes. His breath was soft against her cheek, his lips inches from hers, promising a kiss filled with years of unspoken feelings and could-have-beens.

Inches vanished. Her head spun as a tumult of feelings crashed. The sudden image of Damian—sharp and vivid—flashed through her mind, jolting her back to reality. She pressed a hand to Chase’s chest, a soft block that said, “Not tonight.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I can’t.”

Chase’s eyes searched hers before he nodded, pulling back. “No need to apologize. I shouldn’t have presumed.”

“No, it’s not you. It’s me. I’m just not there,” she said, every word scraping her raw. He gave her that soft, understanding smile—the kind that made this hurt even more.

He cleared his throat. “I should get going. Early flight in the morning.”

Chloe raised an eyebrow. “So, where’s the jet setting this week?”

“London, Copenhagen, Munich.” He kept his gaze locked on the road, knuckles whitening on the wheel, tension hanging like static.

“Hey, wanna hang out next weekend? If you’re around.”

“We’ll see.”

Chase’s role as a commercial pilot often cast a veil of uncertainty over his schedule. Yet, in his evasion, there was an unspoken awkwardness about the missed opportunity for that kiss.

Chloe’s heart sank. He checked every box—sweet, solid, the kind of guy you could trust—but her heart reached backward. Damian haunted every quiet moment, tattooing her soul. She once carried his child, a brief spark of life that flickered out in the tenth week. She never had the chance to tell him.

The cool evening air felt like a balm as she exited the car, calming her emotions. She watched Chase drive away, the taillights of his Chevy fading into the night.

“Awesome. Rock bottom. Didn’t think I’d get the full tour today,” she muttered, rolling her eyes as she took the stairs up to her apartment.

She barely crossed the threshold before those raw memories ambushed her. Damian's laughter ghosted through the living room, and suddenly she was twenty-one again.

Oh God. Hot sex in her dorm... She'd snuck him in, convinced her roommate Lisa was out. The narrow bed creaked under them, his body heavy over hers, her hand tangled in his damp hair as he whispered her name. Then the door cracked open—Lisa's shocked gasp. Chloe dove for the blanket, mortified, while Damian dragged a hand through his wild sex hair, a sheepish grin cutting dimples into his flushed face.

Try fucking quietly in the library. Locked doors, rows of books pressing in, her skirt bunched around her waist. His breath hot at her ear, his hand over her mouth to keep her quiet. She'd tried. God, she'd tried, but the pleasure of him moving inside her caused her muffled moans to bleed into the hush.

And yeah, the Mile High Club in his jet. He'd suggested doing it on the way home from a winter cabin trip. She barely noticed the clear skies and snowcapped mountains sliding past below. She'd been on his lap, straddling him, when turbulence rattled the cabin. He steadied her hips, smirked into her mouth, and told her to hold on. She clawed his shoulders, gasping as he took her higher than the plane ever could.

That was then. This is now. 

How do you mend a broken heart?

She braced herself on the hallway wall, dragging in air. She could still feel his hands in her hair, taste every broken promise on her tongue. The ache hollowed her chest, sharp enough that she pressed a palm there, willing herself to breathe.