Meant For Me by Erin McCarthy Read Free Book Online Page B

matter .
    But it did. To Chloe. And to me.
    Do you still speak Russian?
    The minute I hit send I wanted to kick the crap out of myself. She didn’t fucking speak English. It sounded like an insult or something.
    But before I could apologize Chloe responded.
    I had a hard time learning English at first. But I think in both Russian and English now.
    I wasn’t even sure what that meant. I wished I could at least see Chloe’s face, read her expressions when she typed her thoughts. Texting could never replace conversation and I felt frustrated. I wanted to hear what she had to say. Yet I couldn’t. Never would. Was that why it mattered, because I couldn’t have it?
    No. That wasn’t all there was to it. I wasn’t that much of an asshole. She was just frankly the most interesting girl I’d met in years. It wasn’t just that she was mysterious. It was why she was mysterious. She had a life that set her apart, made her different. Cerebral. She didn’t spend her days taking selfies and having vapid pointless chatter with girlfriends or random girls. Her thoughts mattered and her speech, because it was almost nonexistent, mattered most of all.
    Or maybe her speech didn’t matter one iota. It was intriguing and strange and a welcome distraction from my own self-created bullshit.
    Which was why I sent the next text.
    Can I see you?
    What do you mean?
    Let’s go for a walk on the beach or go into town for a drink.
    I stared at the ellipse indicating she was typing a response, wanting her to say yes. Aubrey’s house was small and quiet and it suddenly felt like the walls were closing in on me. I wanted, needed to walk. I couldn’t go to bed this early. My schedule was too far off normal hours of turning in at ten at night and I knew I would just toss and turn on the couch for three hours. I could have a couple of beers to help me settle down and sleep but I had just pledged to lay off the booze. I couldn’t break that vow an hour in.
    Plus there was no denying I wanted to see Chloe.
    Come to my house and we can walk to town. My dad will freak out if I just go by myself. He thinks I’m an easy target.
    There was an eyerolling emoji at the end of her text.
    But I had to side with her father on that one. She was an easy target. Would Chloe be able to scream if someone snagged her? Probably not if anxiety caused her lack of speech.
    Okay. I’ll be right over .
    I sat up and went into the kitchen. There was a key rack hanging by the back door and I fished Aubrey’s keys off the hook and experimented with all of them until I found the one that locked the back door. I didn’t want to leave Aubrey and Emma in an unlocked house. Then I left her a note that just said, “Went to town,” on the couch in case she came looking for me.
    Aubrey was right. It was only a five minute walk to Chloe’s. Three because I was really hauling ass. I didn’t want Chloe to change her mind. Taking the steps two at a time, I knocked softly on the back door. I figured if she was telling her father what she was doing, he was going to want to see my face. Wishing I had bothered to shave, I rubbed my hand over my jaw. Talking to adults had always been easy for me, but now that I was an adult myself I hadn’t had much use for polite conversation. I was the bartender not the law student.
    But when an older guy opened the door and eyed me up and down, I smiled naturally. “Hi, I’m Ethan Walsh, Aubrey’s brother.” I stuck my hand out.
    He took it and shook. “Paul Rush.”
    “Nice to meet you. Is Chloe here, sir?”
    “Yeah, she’s here.” He paused and continued to assess me without moving out of the way. “Why do you want to see my teenage daughter at ten o’clock on a Wednesday?”
    At twenty-one Chloe was not what anyone would call a teenager but I wasn’t going to argue with him. “We are going to go into town for a cup of coffee.” That sounded better than drinking, which I was determined not to do. The thought of getting hammered