Explicit ✔

ten

♫ You turn up unannounced, at my door step
I'm not letting you in
Coz I don't know where you've been ♪
(Vera Blue—Give in)

While Ryan waited in his car—hoping to avoid confrontation in case Delilah was home—Coralie hurried to shower and change for her shift at the bar. And before she slipped on her shoes, she pulled up her phone's contact list and switched Chester's name to Chess, his nickname from back in the day. She worried that Ryan's behavior—coincidentally finding her at the coffee-shop with a snooping vibe—was one of suspicion. And in case he browsed through her cell, she didn't want him stumbling upon messages with Chester that he might misinterpret. By typing Chester's nickname, it left to the imagination who he was... and what gender.

Sadly, Coralie was used to adopting such tactics. With Jayden, she'd had to employ code names for almost all her male friends, lest he see her texting them and explode. His jealousy and trust issues were outrageous, and Coralie was noticing a similar pattern with Ryan. And she hated it. It was controlling, concerning, and prompted her to revise how she felt about him.

But it didn't deter her enough to get her to make up her mind and discard him from her life. She still wanted him, still loved him, and shrugged off his demeanor as he drove her to work, laughing, teasing her as if they hadn't had a spat, as if the air wasn't slick with tension. He parked by the bar and apologized for being invasive, and stated once more how he regretted being forceful with her about breaking up with Michael. His eyes—that were stormy earlier—had reverted to their kind, sultry ocean blue, and she melted as he kissed her cheek, right near the crease of her lips.

Throughout her shift, she kept sneaking into the back-room and pulling up her chat screen with Chester, hesitating to text him, confide in him, take advantage of his offer to help her. And every time, she grunted, shook her head, and locked the cell to put it away, worried that conversing with him too much would be making room for him in her new life. If she let him in, she risked spiraling out of control again. The partying, the drinking, the blacking out in bar-backs with boys she didn't know and surrounded by drugs—she'd given that up a while ago. Chester hadn't, that much was clear, and she couldn't allow herself to stumble into that lifestyle again. She'd lose sight of her goals, and likely lose her jobs—both of them.

I can't let that happen.

Plus, with Ryan breathing down her neck, she'd struggle to explain hanging out with Chester. She chuckled imagining herself trying.

"Hey, this is my former best friend from years ago that I hardcore partied with, and slept with a lot, and who might be in part to blame for my near-rape. But we made up and we're cool now and he wants to get drinks, you good with that?"

"Fuck." She snorted, so lost in her little world that she almost spilled a drink as she handed it to a patron. "He would not appreciate that," she mouthed to herself as she turned to the register to start the client's tab. "No, he'd throw a fit and believe I was having sex with Chester, too."