The Geeks and the Socialite Read online

  “Yes to the first. No to the second. I’m sorry.” Emotion finally spilled into her voice. Grief and guilt. No wonder she refused to make eye contact. “I didn’t mean to. It just kind of happened.”

  “Of course. That makes sense. You tear into me for bringing a random person into the fantasy, storm out of here without setting things right, and... What? Trip in the lobby, as some woman is walking by, and accidentally lock lips and make out with her by mistake?”

  Ceramic clanged against Formica, a tremor ran through the counter, and a second later, Chloe stood in front of him. She was exactly the right height for him to see the lines of hurt etched on her face without having to look up. “There was no making out.” Her voice cracked. “I had a little to drink, enough to relax, and it was just a kiss. Doesn’t this give you more fodder for your fantasies?” She clenched her jaw and shook her head. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean that. I feel so bad about the whole thing, and I wanted to tell you last night and apologize, but...”

  But he ignored her when she came home. “So this is my fault?”

  “No. And if you tell me you don’t want me to do it again, I won’t. Not that I have plans to, anyway.”

  “It’s not an issue.” He moved around her. It might be, once the numbness spilling inside wore off. But holding this against her wasn’t fair. They were free spirits. Didn’t let standard roles define their lives. Add to that the already forming images in his mind of how hot it would be to watch Chloe with someone else, and every inch of him tensed at logic warring with everything else he didn’t want to feel. “I have to get downstairs. Meeting with that swag vendor from New York.”

  “Wait.” The pleading in her voice made him turn. She raised her hands, hesitated, and then rested them on his chest. The heat of her palms seared through his T-shirt, speaking to the softer emotions inside him. “I won’t ask you to tell me we’re okay. Not yet. But don’t brush me off.”

  He stared into her brown eyes. Studied the dusting of freckles across her cheeks. Watched her worry her lip with her teeth. He really did love her. Maybe this was what they needed—to invite someone else into their relationship, even for a night, rather than pretending a third person was there. “We’ll talk as soon as I’m done. I promise.” He brushed his lips over hers. Instead of reassuring him, the kiss made the empty pit behind his ribs grow.

  Chapter Three

  Chloe’s morning dragged in a way she didn’t think possible. Her schedule didn’t sync with Jordan’s at all. She spent her time sliding from partner meetings, to the convention floor to mingle, and back into more discussions. More than one vendor asked if she was okay, or if they needed to do this later, and each time she shook away her scattered thoughts for about thirty seconds, before everything rushed back.

  She couldn’t get the kiss out of her head. Despite the guilt that sank into her bones at the memory, there was the lingering trace of desire. The realization it was never that intense with anyone except Jordan. Not that she had a lot of experience before him.

  She wanted to clear things up with Jordan. Tell him what she was thinking, feeling, and struggling with. The longer the kiss flitted through her thoughts, the more it turned her on. Not only the sensation, but the potential for more. Liz had moved into Chloe’s imagination, complete with clothes coming off and them exploring each other. And Jordan was there every time.

  After his reaction this morning, she didn’t want to bring it up again. Not if it pushed his buttons like that. She was frustrated, just a little drunk, and feeling melodramatic last night when she thought of them as over. Losing Jordan wasn’t an option. She was willing to let him lead the conversation to what she did, but she wouldn’t bring up taking things further unless he did. Unfortunately, it had to wait until tonight. The odds they’d have time to talk before then were non-existent.

  Now she’d reached a conclusion—not a great one, but better than the alternative—she could get some work done. She ignored the gnawing in her stomach at the idea of suppressing this, and made her way back to the Rinslet booth. When she saw the guy with the press badge talking to one of her salespeople, she forced her feet one in front of the other, to keep moving. Stew Knapfer was on the rock bottom of her list of things she wanted to deal with.

  “Chloe. Dude. I hoped I’d run into you sooner rather than later.” Stew approached with a smile wide enough to show his teeth. “You have to give me the inside scoop.” Years ago, he was a review blogger, but as the market grew more saturated with everyone sharing their opinions, he split his priorities. Now he spent as much time writing crappy gossip posts for whichever site gave him the biggest exposure. The money wasn’t in the articles; it was in the referral sales the blogger made to affiliate sites. Stew had the best headlines out there.

  Chloe would respect it if she thought more of him in general.

  She stepped around him. “No inside scoop. You watch the big reveal in Thursday’s panel, like everyone else.”

  “Not even a hint? Bro, come on. I do this for you. I want to help you feed the hype.”

  She winced internally, and more of Liz’s words from last night bled back in. People kept trying to talk to me. No one’s approaching you. Because they knew Chloe. But it ran deeper than that. She was one of the guys. Most the time, it was awesome. It made it easier to get her job done. Every once in a while, though the thought wasn’t PC or feministic, or whatever, a girl wanted to hear she was sexy and attractive. Being a bro wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. Liz’s compliments were so genuine, though. It was nice. Was that one of the reasons Chloe couldn’t get meeting Liz out of her head?

  To Stew, she said, “No hints. No clues. Oh, wait—I’ve got one for you. Big reveal.”

  “That’s what you’ve been spouting for a month.” Stew sounded annoyed. “I can make up a headline.”

  Great. They were in the threat part of the negotiation. “And when you’re wrong, people are going to call you on it.”

  “Unless I’m right. New game franchise?”

  “No comment.”

  “New sequel for The Hoarde?”

  Rinslet didn’t even own the rights to that game anymore. “No comment.”

  “We get to see your tits in a secret Easter egg?”

  Chloe clenched her jaw, to keep a growl from escaping. “No comment.”

  “Fine.” He turned away. “If I make it up and I’m wrong, I’ll say you changed things last minute, to avoid being scooped.”

  “That doesn’t even make sense,” she called after his retreating back. Apparently he wasn’t interested in being reminded a demo like the one they’d scheduled took months of planning and couldn’t be swapped out because one blogger did or didn’t guess right. Hell, at least three bloggers she could think of had already figured it out. It made her smug that he wasn’t one of them.

  She trudged through the rest of her day, too distracted and busy to enjoy more than a soda for lunch, and counting the hours until things wound down. She’d never before been so anxious for a trade-show day to end.

  “Hey, gorgeous.” Jordan’s breath brushed her cheek at the same time he wrapped his arms around her waist.

  The willingness to put the fight behind them warmed her as much as the surprise gesture. How could two simple words chase away this much tension? She leaned into his embrace, resting her head against his chest, and pulled his arms tighter. “You done rubbing elbows for the day?”

  “Rubbing elbows. Is that a euphemism?”

  “I’m sure we could make it one.” This was good. It felt right. At the same time, it stirred panic inside her when she remembered his reaction this morning. She wanted to dive into his touch and pretend nothing was wrong. Asking about the change in attitude could ruin this moment. “Live demos are done for the day. Do you want to duck back there and talk until the hall closes?”

  “I’d rather whisk you away upstairs, but responsibility.”

  She smiled at his fake disdain. “Yes. We have to adult for at least a little longer
.”

  He kissed the edge of her ear, then twirled her to face him, before leading her backward to a section of the booth where they could still observe, but talk without being overheard. She’d waited for and dreaded this all day, and now that it was here, anticipation and fear clawed inside her. What if this all went wrong? If she didn’t say anything, she’d be bitter about having to keep her thoughts to herself. If she did, they’d fight again.

  “I’m sorry for the way I reacted this morning.” Jordan’s apology tumbled out, and Chloe tripped over the words. He squeezed her fingers. “I want to make us right, and you didn’t do anything wrong.”

  Hesitant relief nudged her senses. “I kind of did.”

  “No. We’ve always said it was okay if one of us wanted to explore.”

  They were actually talking about this like reasonable people. Of course they were. She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “But I had this expectation—not that it was reasonable, but it was there—we’d talk about it first.”

  “And that wasn’t an option. We’re talking now.”

  “No.” That wasn’t what she meant to say, especially when he frowned. “I mean, letting it drop is easier than fighting.”

  He brushed his thumb over her cheek and studied her face. “I’m listening, I swear. I won’t judge anything. I can’t promise not to be jealous, but that’s an instinct thing. You said this morning that you liked it. The kiss, I mean. Not the jealousy.”

  “I did.” So much, it still teased her in the midst of this serious conversation. “Not so big on the guilt that came with it.”

  “Do you want to do it again?”

  Suspicion joined the jumble of emotions dancing inside her. “Is this how the fantasy starts? Because that’s what provoked the fight last night.”

  “I’m serious. Real life, not simply talking about it—do you want to do it again?”

  The final announcement that the doors were closing echoed over the loudspeakers, and half the lights in the room dimmed. Jordan’s gaze never left her face.

  “Yes. I’m curious, and I’ve had a taste, and.... Yes.” It felt good to admit, despite her lingering concern that being honest might be a bad idea. “But not without you there.”

  A movement in the background caught her attention, despite the fact she didn’t want to be distracted. She took a second look, but she couldn’t figure out what it was.

  “So let’s make it happen.” Jordan settled his palm on her cheek and drew her attention back to him.

  “Sticking someone between us won’t fix what’s wrong.”

  “But exploring the option may make it easier to work through whatever’s holding us back.”

  Chloe realized what she saw seconds earlier. “Shit.”

  “Not what I expected you to say.” Jordan turned and followed her gaze to where Stew was talking to Liz. “Did you have to deal with him today?”

  Even at a distance and with a clearer frame of mind, Chloe didn’t mind watching Liz. “He was a pain in my fucking ass. And not in a good way. And the woman he’s talking to?”

  “Is pretty. Should we introduce ourselves?”

  His open admiration tugged at Chloe’s envy, though it echoed her own thoughts. “I’ve met her. She’s Liz. My partner-in-kissing from last night.”

  “Oh.” His tone fell flat. “Even in full-on goth makeup, you were never that pale. She looks like she wants to be anywhere but there.” His voice returned to normal. “Not that I blame her.”

  “Yeah. And she’s not in the industry so she probably doesn’t have any idea what she’s getting herself into with him. Want to meet my not-quite-fling? Let’s go inject ourselves into their conversation.”

  “Stew won’t talk to me.” Jordan intertwined his fingers with hers, and they headed toward the pair. It was more that Jordan didn’t have the patience for Stew’s bullshit. They’d almost come to blows more than a couple of times.

  “That’s okay,” Chloe said. “She may not want to talk to me either. I’ll run interference. You rescue the fair maiden.”

  “EXCUSE ME. ELIZABETH Thompson?” The crisp question drew Liz’s attention. The man who approached her looked friendly enough. When he smiled, he showed too many teeth, but he sounded polite.

  “Yes?” Liz said.

  “I’m Stew Knapfer. I’m covering a lot of the vendors here. Do you have a moment?”

  “I do, but I’m not sure I’ll be much help.” She looked around for Jonathan or anyone from K.M. but didn’t see any familiar faces. “I can put you in contact with someone more technical than me, though.”

  His smile grew, and discomfort filled her for reasons she couldn’t place. “Thanks, but I have a list of names. I’m looking for you specifically.”

  That couldn’t be right. She didn’t know anything about tech. Not at the level these people spoke at. “Are you sure you’re not looking for a different Elizabeth Thompson?”

  Stew pulled his phone from his pocket and clicked the screen. A beep sounded. Was he recording this? “Almost certain. I won’t take much of your time; I promise. You were engaged to George Debson, correct?”

  Irritation rose inside at the mention of her ex-fiancé and carried the urge to tell this person where he could stick his phone. “I’m sorry. I can’t help you.” She tried to step around him.

  He blocked her path. “I’m hoping you have a statement about how this morning’s arrest impacted you.”

  “No comment.”

  “Not the first time I’ve heard that today. It doesn’t deter me.”

  “He’s right.” Chloe wedged herself between them. “I told him that earlier, more times than he can count. Spoiler alert—that’s not a lot.” Chloe winked at Liz.

  The man accompanying Chloe squeezed her hand before letting go. He must be her partner. Boyfriend? Husband? Neither he nor Chloe wore a ring, but that didn’t mean much. The man turned to Liz. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Legal wants your sign-off, before this contract goes to the vendor.”

  Liz actually understood that. Before she could find her voice, Chloe nudged Stew back. “The woman said no comment.”

  Stew frowned. “But I—”

  “No comment.” Chloe never raised her voice, but when she moved forward, Stew stepped back.

  “Come on.” Chloe’s partner grabbed Liz’s fingers and tugged. “Those documents won’t sign themselves.”

  “Ms. Thompson.” Stew’s call landed against her back.

  “We’re not done yet,” Chloe said to him. “You wanted to talk to me earlier. I’ll tell you all about Ms. Thompson.”

  Liz’s feet froze to the floor, and the strange man with shocking blue hair who was with Chloe stopped next to her. He bent his head close. “Trust her.”

  “She’s a gymnast.” The cheer was back in Chloe’s voice. “Chinese circus. Escaped last week.”

  Liz had no idea what the two were up to, but the nonsense and lack of desire to talk about her life with a stranger were enough to start her legs moving again. Behind them, Chloe’s ridiculous story faded into the background, as she continued to talk over Stew.

  Once they cleared the convention hall, the stranger stopped and faced her. “I’m Jordan. Chloe’s boyfriend. You looked like you needed a hand in there.”

  Liz leaned against a wall, trying to collect her thoughts. “I did. I think. And thank you. But...” She had no idea how to phrase her question.

  He shrugged. “It was pretty obvious you didn’t want to talk to him. We’ve learned to do a bit of media dodging in our line of work.”

  “I thought she worked for a game company.” At some point during the day, did she step through the looking glass? Jordan was as attractive as Chloe. A stark contrast to the slacks, tie, and button-up shirt that hung off muscled shoulders and chest, his blue hair fell over eyes of the same color. She had to tilt her head up to look him in the eye.

  “We do. And our jobs come with a lot of knowing what to say to bloggers and when to walk away.” He so
unded as if his answer explained everything.

  She wanted to ask for more information but wasn’t sure it would make sense. What was she supposed to say to the boyfriend of the woman she shared an impulsive kiss with? Did he know? He couldn’t. And it wasn’t her place to tell him. “Of course. Thank you for saving me. Both of you.”

  “I know about last night.” He leaned against a pillar across from her. “Chloe told me the story this morning. I assume she told me all of it. Just a kiss.” It was the first sign of hesitation she’d seen from him. It helped take the edge off her feeling of being lost.

  What happened with Chloe wasn’t just a kiss. It was incredible. Liz hated the thought as soon as it popped into her head. She was horrible. “Yes. That’s all it was.” Mostly.

  “It’s not a big deal.” He raked his fingers through his hair, leaving the already chaotic blue strands sticking in a million different directions. “We don’t get hung up on stuff like monogamy.”

  Liz’s mind wanted to latch onto the words and dive head first to interpret them. His tone and downcast gaze made her think he didn’t completely believe what he was saying, and that cut off her fantasies faster than any attempts at convincing herself to not lust after either of them. Months ago, when she threw herself at Mercy, a desire was knocked loose in Liz to explore her sexuality. Great. Admitting she was attracted to both sexes made things double awkward with a cute couple. “I’m glad you’re both good with it.” That was the polite thing to say.

  Whatever made him pause moments earlier vanished behind confidence again. “Chloe will be done with Stew soon. It doesn’t take her long to twist him up. Do you want to join us for dinner tonight?”

  “Uh...” Way to sound intelligent, Liz. “You were here for the part of the conversation where we talked about your girlfriend kissing me, weren’t you?”