Chloe’s mother on the other hand is happy in Paris now, far removed from everything that threatened to tear us apart. She laughs easily on the phone, talks about the cafés she’s discovered, the paintings she’s seen, the dinners she’s hosted. Her voice carries through the receiver and I feel some of the tension leave Chloe, feel her exhale in a way that says the world is not all broken.
Miles leans back in the chair across from me, still rubbing the stubborn stiffness from his ribs, and says something low, more to himself than anyone else. “We survived.” His tone isn’t triumphant—it never is—but it’s steady, honest.
I glance at Chloe, who’s tidying the small kitchen, humming under her breath, a habit she picked up after the night terrors eased. She glances back at me and smiles, small, private, and I realize the weight we carried has lessened, if only slightly. We’re still alive. We’re still ourselves.
Outside, the light is soft, the kind that comes before sunset, painting everything gold. We’ve taken this city, this apartment, these little routines, and claimed them from the chaos. The past is never gone, but it no longer controls the way we breathe.
Chloe pauses, leaning against the counter, eyes meeting mine. “How are we celebrating Miles’s birthday by the way? And you are not allowed to say sex,” she says, almost like a vow, almost like a promise.
“I love sex,” Miles says.
I shake my head, happy with their banter. “Shouldn’t we be looking into joining campus and finishing school. I hear it has a great cheerleading scholarship, baby.”
“Scholarship?” she asks.
I nod.
She bites her lips. “Will you help me with the paperwork?”
“If you fuck me every night.”
Miles scoffs. “I’m not third wheeling.”
Chloe looks between the two of us. “You are never a third wheel, baby.”
“Yeah?” Miles asks, allowing her to slip on his lap. She’s wearing a skirt, which I realize is on purpose. “How about an early birthday––”
She presses a finger against his lips. “Shh, don’t say another word.” Then she starts making out with him. I watch as they lick each other’s mouths. My dick swells in my pants.
“Fuck,” I groan, and Chloe reaches out her hand for me.
I let her palm fall on my bare dick, and when she turns, her face softens as she pumps me a few times.
Miles grabs her hand from my cock and says, “Wait your fucking turn.”
I grab the back of her neck, forcing her lips against mine. I watch as Miles scowls at me, rubbing her clit under her skirt.
“No fighting,” Chloe whispers against my mouth. “Now sit there like a good boy and watch Miles fuck me.”
I do as I’m told, putting my cock back in my pants, watching Miles take his time on her. He kisses her down, teasing her. I catch her eyes a few times, but she’s solely focused on Miles andwhat he’s doing to her. And then she takes control, giving me the perfect view of how well her pussy strokes Miles’ dick.
“Is it my turn yet?” I mutter. I don’t wait for an answer as I tug off my clothes and lay down next to Miles. “Baby, I’m ready whenever you are.”
Miles grabs onto her hips, not letting her go.
We change positions. Miles fucks her from behind while I choke her on my cock.
“There’s my perfect girl,” I growl as she takes me deeper.
She starts moaning and shaking out of control, getting me more worked up and excited. I come down her throat while Miles fills pussy with his.
We fall onto the bed with her in between us. Miles keeps a possessive hand on her stomach while I stare at her cute face. She’s flushed, glistening with a tiny amount of sweat.
“I was thinking…” She trails off as Miles runs his hands up to her lips. He leans in and kisses her cheek.
“What were you going to say, baby?”
“Can this really work?” she says aloud but it sounds like a question she’s asking herself.
