Chapter 1
Chloe lay in bed trying to stifle her tears, suddenly wishing the last hour never happened. The room was dark, but she could hear Brady snoring softly behind her and she hoped the sound drowned out her muffled sobs. The last thing she wanted to do was to wake him up and have to explain why she was crying. It wasn’t something she could tell him.
How did she get so far from where she was supposed to be, she wondered. This wasn’t what her first time was supposed to be like. And Brady wasn’t the man she was supposed to be with her first time. Philip was.
Philip Kiriakis was her high school sweetheart and, until a few months ago, they’d been inseparable.
Yet, by the time senior prom rolled around, Chloe realized she wasn’t sure how she felt about Philip anymore. He’d grown so clingy, so possessive, even obsessive. She couldn’t breathe. At the prom, he threw a fit when some eleventh grader asked her to dance. She had no intention of dancing with anyone else, but it bothered Chloe that Philip acted like he owned her. His behavior that night sealed his fate and she decided to call it quits with him.
But breaking up with him was easier said than done. They had so much history between them, so much time and emotion invested, and a deep connection she couldn’t deny. Their lives were so intertwined that Chloe wasn’t even sure she knew how to be without him.
Still, something inside told her she had to try. That’s when she came up with the idea of a trial separation instead of a breakup. That way, if independence wasn’t all it was cracked up to be, she’d still have Philip waiting in the wings.
As it turned out, the whole thing was a lot more logical in theory than in reality. Halfway through summer, she dropped the bombshell on him and told him she needed some space. They were about to embark on a new phase of their lives — college — and it was a perfect opportunity to set some new ground rules and impose a few degrees of separation. So she told him they wouldn’t be seeing each other for the first three months of their respective freshman years. Both of them were going to school in New York City — her to Juilliard, him to Columbia. After being a couple all through high school, the time was right to learn some independence, fly solo, become Chloe Lane, future musical theater star, instead of just one-half of Philip and Chloe, or “Ken and Barbie” as the kids at school often called them.
“Okay, if we’re going to be in the same city, we’re going to have to get some things straight between us,” she told him.
Standing on her front porch, Philip put his hands on Chloe’s waist and inched closer. “No problem, Miss Lane,” he whispered, stopping just short of a kiss.
“Stop it, Philip,” she demanded, taking a step back in order to keep her resolve intact. She couldn’t let his physical closeness affect her determination. “When we get to school, no contact for three months.” She held up three fingers and he grabbed them.
“Ya right.” He wasn’t taking her seriously at all.
She pulled her hand from his grip. “I’m serious. We need to get acclimated to school and to campus life and our teachers and ...”
“The student body?”
“Yes,” she tried to ignore his innuendos. “It’s important that we make new friends and get to know our fellow classmates.”
“The guys, you mean.” Here we go again, Chloe thought. The jealousy, the possessiveness, the sensitivities, the fights. The truth was, she understood why he was feeling insecure. Their lives were about to change forever. She was nervous too, but he was making her crazy, and not in a good way.
“I mean everyone,” she replied, trying to sound calm and composed and refusing to get roped into his manufactured drama. “You of all people know that it’s especially hard for me to make new friends -- girls, guys, doesn’t matter. I don’t want to be playing catch-up all year, or be that girl everyone thinks is aloof.”
He shook his head vehemently. “I can’t go a whole day without seeing you, Chloe, let alone three months. I don’t think you can do it either.”
Chloe sighed. She knew Philip was right. Not seeing him would be tough on her too. Sometimes she felt like they were an old married couple, and she was only eighteen, after all. She had a lot of living to do, and not every second of it had to be lived with Philip. So for the sake of her sanity and her growth as a human being, she believed it was the right move. “Yes you can. And you will,” she insisted. “And no sneaking on campus to see me either.”
Stroking his chin, he said, “I don’t know. How about a week?”
Exasperated as he made her, she had to admit how cute he was, standing there trying to bargain with her. His chestnut-colored hair was streaked with natural highlights that shone under the porch light. The brown and navy Salem High t-shirt he wore showed off his lean physique, all tanned and toned from working outdoors at his father’s car dealership for the summer.
Philip had these piercing steely-blue eyes that reminded her of ice skating on Glen Oaks Lagoon in the dead of winter when the frozen water reflected the clear blue sky. His eyes sparkled as he tried to charm her into relenting. She almost laughed when he ran his hand through his hair, a habit of his she’d seen a million times. It meant he was getting nervous. Poor Philip’s hair always looked uncombed for that very reason. And oh my, that unintentional tousled, bed-head style looked downright sexy on him. It would be so easy to cave, to abandon the idea of a separation, but she didn’t. “Twelve weeks,” she repeated.
“Two weeks. And maybe a week off for good behavior.”
His charm wasn’t working like it used to, and that alone was reason enough to go through with the separation. “Philip, this isn’t negotiable,” she told him. “It’s not a prison sentence.”
“It’s gonna feel like it is. What happened to Whither Thou Goest?”
Whither Thou Goest was their favorite quote. Chloe once heard it spoken in a re-enactment of the Story of Ruth in church, and it struck a chord. The words floated into her mind one night while she and Philip were cuddled on her front porch swing. It was the first night they said “I love you” to each other. Ever since then, the quotation became a private little thing between them, and they recited it to each other often — at picnics, at the beach, near their lockers, and at her front door when they kissed good night, as if to say “nothing will keep us apart.”
This time, however, Chloe chose to ignore the reference. “Think of it this way,” she said, tugging at the front of his shirt. “It’ll build character. You could use a little maturing.”
“Ouch.” He physically winced.
“Well it’s true. A little growth and maturity won’t hurt.” But she could see that it did hurt, so she tried to cushion the blow. “In fact, it will make us stronger,” she lied. “Trust me. It will be good for both of us.”
He looked askance at her. “I should trust you, huh? Three whole months?” He moved closer again, invading her personal space before taking her in his arms. “If you expect me to go three months without you, I’m gonna need something special to tide me over.”
::::::~
But he never did get that something special that he wanted. Chloe was always very clear with Philip about not going all the way. She didn’t think either of them were mature enough to handle it. Even so, they enjoyed plenty of nearly naked fooling around where they did just about everything except sealing the deal.
A couple of nights before leaving for college, they drove up to Salem Heights. It was a hot and hazy night and the clouds obscured the moon. The only visible illumination was from the city streetlights below.
“Why are we stopping here?” She knew that was a stupid question as soon as she saw the desire in his eyes.
He rested his arm along the top of the seat and, stroking her cheek, he spoke low and slow. “We have some unfinished business.”
Man, he was so hard to resist when he looked and sounded like that. But she was determined not to become a teenaged statistic, so she kept her tone light. “Grandview Drive? Really Philip? This is so clichéd, and a bad cliché, at that. Besides, you know I’m afraid of heights.”
She could tell his feelings were a little hurt. His eyes always gave away his emotions. One look and you knew whether he was happy, sad, in love, angry, joking. Right now, he just looked exasperated. “I just want to be alone with you, Chloe,” he whined. “Something wrong with that?”
She had no smart comeback for that. “No, but ....”
“Shhh. Stop talking,” he whispered. He unbuckled his seatbelt in one swift move and leaned over on the passenger side. Taking her face in his hands, he brushed her lips with his before running his tongue along her lips sending shivers through her body, from the back of her neck all the way down to her thighs. He pressed his lips harder against hers and in an instant, the soft sweet kiss ignited into fiery passion. She’d teetered on this precipice before, where common sense and willpower were of no use. If there were any brain cells functioning, they were telling her to forget about preserving her virtue and just give in to the temptation.
Heeding those instincts, Chloe slid down onto the leathery seat cushion, pulling Philip on top of her. She could feel his heart pounding through his t-shirt, she could hear him breathing hard. His tongue flicked in and out of her mouth and his hands searched her clothing, looking for an entrance.
Chloe’s senses were going wild as she felt Philip’s hands roaming her body, making their way under her shirt and inching upward, over her stomach, under her bra. “Yes,” she heard herself say as his fingertips skirted the outer spheres of her breasts before zeroing in on her nipples.
“I love you so much,” he panted.
“Oh yes,” she replied through a sexual haze. His lips moved from her mouth to her neck and Chloe was feeling things she never felt before. Incredible things. Her brain was mush. She was completely lost in the eroticism of the moment, with her arms around Philip, kissing his neck, sliding over the smooth skin on his back, not remembering how or when his shirt came off. When his lower body pressed against hers, she could feel through his pants how much he wanted her, and she wanted him just as much.
She kissed him deeply as he unbuttoned her jeans. When he unzipped them and slid them downward, she knew there was no turning back. Almost involuntarily, she opened her legs to grant him entrance, and her knee hit the steering wheel horn.
*Honnnnnnk.*
Startled, Philip jerked back quickly and hit his head on the roof of the car. “Ouch.”
“Are you okay?” She reached up to rub his head.
“Ow. Yeah, I’m fine. I’m fine.” Regaining his composure, he said, “Now where were we?” He pressed her back against her seat again.
But the magic moment was over for Chloe. “Philip, wait.”
“Wait? Why?”
She gently pushed her palm against his chest, holding him back. “This isn’t right.” This isn’t how she always envisioned her first time. It was supposed to be in a big bed with silky sheets, maybe some rose petals, candlelight bathing the room and Ravel’s Bolero providing the soundtrack. There was something about the dichotomy of Bolero’s overly orchestrated movements providing the backdrop for the primitive and unrehearsed act of sex that gave Chloe goose bumps.
His brow knit as he looked down at her. “Yes. It’s right.” He kissed her but she pushed back.
“No. It’s not.”
“Chloe!” He was clearly annoyed.
She struggled to sit up as she pushed his weight off of her. “Come on, Philip, do you really want our first time to be in a car?”
Not missing a beat, he blurted, “Yes!”
She wriggled back into her jeans and re-buttoned her blouse. “Well, I don’t.”
“Look baby,” he tried to reason with her. “Next time we’ll get a hotel room, do the candles and the music, just like you told me you always wanted, but right now, I need you, I need you.” He leaned over to kiss her, but she pushed him away again. “Damn it, Chloe.”
Straightening out her clothing and smoothing her hair as if nothing happened, she ordered him, “Let’s get out of here. Let’s just go.”
Philip looked at her incredulously for a long minute. He shook his head, gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white, and grit his teeth. “Aarrrr.”
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