Chapter 16

CHELSEA

I blink my eyes open, still in bed. I lift the covers and find myself naked.

I toss the covers aside and head to the bathroom, grabbing my robe on the way. I slip it on but leave it undone. I pick up my phone and check the time. It’s seven in the morning.

“Wow, it’s already tomorrow,” I say, a wide grin spreading across my face. I giggle, thinking about the mind-blowing sex I had the day before.

I descend the stairs, the aroma of brewing coffee wafting up to meet me. I enter the kitchen and find a fresh pot of coffee. I don’t question how it got there or who made it. I just grab a mug and pour myself a cup.

I stand there, sipping my coffee, taking in the familiar surroundings of the kitchen.

“I could go for some breakfast. Eggs, bacon, and fried potatoes.” I set my coffee down and gather the ingredients.

About forty minutes into my cooking, there’s a knock at the front door.

“Come in,” I call out. Lynn walks into the living room.

“Will there ever be a day when you decide to wear clothes again?” she teases, pointing at me with a smile.

I glance down. I’d forgotten my robe was open, revealing my naked body. I quickly grab the tie and loosely fasten it around myself.

“What are you up to?” Lynn asks, gesturing at the food I’ve prepared.

“Making breakfast. What does it look like?”

“You don’t cook,” she says, grinning.

“Well, today I did. Look, I made homemade fried potatoes with bacon and scrambled eggs,” I say, holding up a mimosa.

“Are you drinking already?”

“Just a bit,” I reply.

“What’s happening?” Lynn asks, crossing her arms.

“I made breakfast, and now I’m eating it.”

“No, I mean with you. You have this guilty grin on your face like you’re up to something.”

“Like having great sex?” I say, grinning widely.

“What?” she exclaims, hands on her hips. “Are you talking about the guy you slept with on your second night here?”

I can tell she’s getting annoyed, but all I can do is nod and smile.

“I don’t understand you. When you were with Brian, you made him wait until after the eighth date before you slept with him.

“This guy, you sleep with him the first day you meet, and you didn’t even eat what you cooked. I don’t get it.

“I thought it was a one-night stand, but it seems like he’s been here more than once,” Lynn says, sounding a bit disturbed.

“Get what? I think you’re just jealous that I’m happy,” I say as I plate up some food. “He makes me happy. He gives me what I need.”

“Gives you what you need! I’ve been here several times and I’ve never seen this Chris guy. What’s his name?”

“Christopher Miller. Why?”

“Because you’re my best friend, and I don’t want to see you get hurt. I’m going to run a background check on him to make sure he’s not a serial killer.”

“He’s not a killer.”

“How do you know?”

“He’s a lover,” I say, feeling giddy thinking about all the sex we’ve had.

“You are unbelievable right now.” Lynn glances at the breakfast bar and spots the card from the detective. She picks it up. “What’s this?” she asks, holding up the card.

“Some cop came by asking about Brian and the accident. That’s his card.”

“And?” Lynn prompts.

“And what? I told him we had a fight because I caught him cheating,” I say, taking a bite of egg. “Sure you don’t want breakfast?”

“When are you going to visit Brian at the hospital again?” she asks.

“I saw him yesterday. His mom’s there.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

I can tell Lynn’s getting frustrated with my evasive answers. I don’t care about Brian. I’m definitely not telling her about Chris anymore.

“I’m probably not going to see Brian,” I say, munching on a piece of bacon.

“Why not?”

“One, he cheated on me, and two, he’s in a coma.” I stab a potato with my fork. “He won’t even know I’m there, so why bother?”

“You’re unbelievable! You’re not the Chelsea I know. The Chelsea I know is caring and has a big heart. She would do anything for anyone, no matter how they treated her,” she says, waving her hand in a circle.

“When the Chelsea I know comes back, tell her to come see me. I’m leaving.”

Lynn storms out, not looking back. She slams the screen door against the side of the house, then slams it shut behind her.

I finish my breakfast, then down the rest of my mimosa. I let my robe fall open. Then I feel a hand come up behind me and cup my breast.

“She doesn’t get us, does she?” Chris asks.

“No, she doesn’t,” I say with a soft moan, keeping my eyes closed.