Get Closer by Alyssa Turner

Chapter 9

Russel

I stared at the door, drowning under the weight of disappointment I didn’t want to feel. Martell’s words washed over me. I felt like I was outside my body, watching this empty shell of a man simply standing there, doing nothing. You should go after her, a small voice in the back of my head urged. Since when did I become the sort of man that did nothing? When did I stop taking chances? What happened to me over the years to change me into the type of person who didn’t seize things by the balls and claim what was mine?

Martell was right.

I was going to regret letting her go without making the case for trying again.

But what sort of relationship could we have? Now I had feelings for Martell, too. That was definitely made evident after that night at the lake. The whole thing was confusing. Was I gay now? I mean, what the fuck? Everything was so complicated.

He was my closest friend. I loved him. No confusion about that. But the line was crossed now, and we were so far past being just friends. There was no forgetting the way he sucked my cock or the feel of his lips, that tongue of his stroking against mine when we kissed. I wanted to explore his body, find out what made him cry out in pleasure; tease his cock with my tongue, shove my dick so deep in his ass and drive him to the breaking point until he was begging for release. I wanted to search for each of his buttons and push them…hard.

The thought of that lit a fire in the pit of my stomach.

I wanted him. And I wanted her. But, of course, she didn’t take the job here at Hunter Railways. No one wants to complicate their lives on purpose.

Chloe was like a dream I’d had the immense pleasure of having twice but couldn’t hold on to in the cold light of reality. Forget that she was such a perfect mix of sexy, smart, and sweet. Never mind that I knew just the place to fuck her deep to make her back arch, have her begging for more. Who cared that she was so in tune with me and Martell, she practically set us up to finally pull the curtain on the feelings building between us?

I scrubbed the back of my head with my palm.

Just accept it.

She was leaving. She had her own life, her own goals. I wasn’t her boyfriend. What right would I have to ask her to stay? You don’t change the course of your life over a sexual relationship—because that’s all that it was—right?

I stroked my chin, watching the cabs below me and imagining her entering one. I imagined running after her, stopping the cab and begging her to stay. I pictured her shocked, open-mouthed expression.

Why would she stay? I rubbed my temples while turning away from the window, imagining her chuckling softly and calling me crazy for even suggesting it.

How do you know that? A small voice pressed me. How do you know she’ll say no if you don’t at least try? If you don’t take a chance?

After all these years, Chloe was always there in the back of my mind. Her number had stared back at me on too many lonely nights. All those years had come and gone, and I never called her. I always assumed it was too late for us, but what if it wasn’t? What if this was our second chance?

What if this was my last chance?

I grabbed my suit jacket from my desk chair, shoved into it, and busted out of my office door and traipsed towards Martell’s. When I flung it open, Martell was standing in the center of the room, staring back at me earnestly. I reached for his hand.

“Let’s do it,” I said, not bothering to shut the door and not caring who saw or who heard. “I don’t want to let her go again. Let’s go get her.”

“She’s on her way to the airport,” Martell breathed, while I whipped out my phone. “It’s too late for that. Let’s stop her there.”

I paused, my thumb lingering over her number. “Cut out of work?”

“Fuck work,” Martell said, already tugging me towards the door. I ran through the office, following after Martell into an elevator. It was empty, and he pushed me up against the side, his mouth grazing over mine.

I smiled against his lips, one arm slowly wrapping around him, the other cradling his face to me. He pulled back, his fingers caressing my cheek lightly before the elevator dinged and the doors opened. We ran through the foyer and I was practically doped up with adrenaline. Martell slapped my ass and laughed as he raised his hand to hail a cab. Shoving inside, we shouted directions to the taxi driver.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” I said muttering, running my hands over my face. I turned, smiling at Martell. “This is crazy.”

Martell took my hand, his lips brushing over my knuckles. “It is,” he whispered. “It is absolutely fucking crazy.”

When the taxi arrived I rushed out of the car, barely taking notice of Martell flinging money at the driver. We burst through the airport doors and ran to the information board, searching for her flight. Her airplane was already boarding.

“Don’t worry,” Martell said, tugging me towards the security checkpoint. “She might be in line. We can still stop her.”

I ran after Martell, praying he was right, but I didn’t see her anywhere. It didn’t help that the place was busy and filled with other business travelers.

“Chloe!” Martell shouted. “Chloe Pierce!”

“Chloe!” I shouted with him, ignoring the irritated stares of the people around us. “Chloe!”

“Do you see her?” Martell asked his hand on my shoulder. His touch had a calming effect on me that I finally started to understand. We were in this together, no matter how it turned out. Always had been, always would be. I leaned into him, looking around over his shoulder. There was no sight of her.

“No.” I ignored the worry overwhelming me. This idea had legs now. This couldn’t be the end.

Martell slid his hand onto the back of my neck. “Hey,” he said. “Do you have one last hail Mary in you?” He raised his eyebrows. “Message her.” His gaze was intense, ready to hold me accountable. “Message her and tell her to wait for us at the connecting airport in Boston. That’s got to be the flight she’s on.”

“What?” I breathed, but despite the crazy idea, I was already pulling out my phone and searching for her name.

“You message her and I’ll get the tickets.” I watched him run through the crowds. “This isn’t over!” he shouted.

I found her name in my contacts, quickly typing and sending the message. Hopefully, her plane was still grounded. Hopefully, she got the message before the flight left.

I stared at the text message. Hopefully, this was going to work.