forever.
She stared hard at the front door.
Or had she lost them?
For the gazillionth time, she questioned whether she should have handled things differently. Should she have said no to Spencer’s offer to help? Refused to run with Levi?
Should she have said yes to one man and no to the other? And if so, which one should she have refused?
That last question was the one that continued to stump her. Which one should she have refused?
Neither, that’s which.
She couldn’t, in a million years, have picked one over the other. Yes, things had progressed a lot faster—and a lot further—with Spencer than with Levi, but only because their time together had been a lot more private. If she’d had the same time alone with Levi, Chelsea had no doubt she’d have gotten as naked with him as she had with Spencer.
Truth be told, she regretted not having the opportunity to get naked with Levi. The only thing she now regretted more was that she’d blown her chance with both of them.
Not that having a chance with both of them was even a remote possibility.
Chelsea pulled on her hair in frustration.
Tempting as it might be to spend half her time with Spencer and the other half with Levi, it wasn’t practical. Not for the men anyway. She might love the idea, but no man in his right mind would ever agree to an arrangement that left Chelsea happy all the time and each of them satisfied only part of the time.
Add the whole best-friends issue to the already bubbling pot of confusion, and Chelsea was slap bang in the middle of an impossible situation.
And damned if it didn’t make her want to weep. Now that she’d gotten to spend intimate time with both men, she only wanted more time with them. Lots and lots more time.
She silently gave thanks to Belinda and Kainano, who, between the two of them, had ensured Chelsea’s mood and preoccupation did not interfere with the smooth running of the restaurant. Belinda’s professionalism and brilliant customer skills and Kainano’s abilities in the kitchen also meant she could sit here now, parked outside Levi’s home and stare longingly at the door.
Under ordinary circumstances, she’d never have come here. But the note that had been left for her at Chelsea’s proved there was nothing normal about these circumstances.
Alongside the address had been the words:
We’ll be here, whatever time you leave the restaurant tonight.
L & S
She would have gone immediately had she not owned the restaurant. Facing up to her responsibilities, she’d forced herself to spend at least an hour at Chelsea’s before finally escaping. In that time, she’d called a customer by the wrong name, delivered table three’s food to table nine and mishandled a bottle of Chardonnay, ensuring that wine and glass smashed to the ground, splattering along the length and breadth of the bar floor.
Belinda, bless her, had subtly suggested Chelsea leave before she accidentally burned down the kitchen.
With her hands trembling, her cheeks on fire and the note burning a hole in her palm, she’d hightailed it to Double Bay—where Levi lived. But that didn’t mean she was ready to get out of the car.
She wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to get out of the car.
How could she walk up the front path, knock on the door and face not one but two men she wanted? What if they laughed at her? Or sat her down and explained that no woman would ever come between their friendship? What if they kindly but politely told her she was out of her mind and her league, and requested she never speak to either of them again?
It would destroy her.
On the other hand, how could she not walk up the path?
Levi and Spencer waited inside. And God help her, for every fear that haunted her, a million hormones urged her on.
Putting on her bravest face, Chelsea opened the car door.
She could deal with this. She could accept whatever they said to her. She was a grown woman, for heaven sake, and had dealt with dozens of men in her time.
She stared hard at the front door.
Or had she lost them?
For the gazillionth time, she questioned whether she should have handled things differently. Should she have said no to Spencer’s offer to help? Refused to run with Levi?
Should she have said yes to one man and no to the other? And if so, which one should she have refused?
That last question was the one that continued to stump her. Which one should she have refused?
Neither, that’s which.
She couldn’t, in a million years, have picked one over the other. Yes, things had progressed a lot faster—and a lot further—with Spencer than with Levi, but only because their time together had been a lot more private. If she’d had the same time alone with Levi, Chelsea had no doubt she’d have gotten as naked with him as she had with Spencer.
Truth be told, she regretted not having the opportunity to get naked with Levi. The only thing she now regretted more was that she’d blown her chance with both of them.
Not that having a chance with both of them was even a remote possibility.
Chelsea pulled on her hair in frustration.
Tempting as it might be to spend half her time with Spencer and the other half with Levi, it wasn’t practical. Not for the men anyway. She might love the idea, but no man in his right mind would ever agree to an arrangement that left Chelsea happy all the time and each of them satisfied only part of the time.
Add the whole best-friends issue to the already bubbling pot of confusion, and Chelsea was slap bang in the middle of an impossible situation.
And damned if it didn’t make her want to weep. Now that she’d gotten to spend intimate time with both men, she only wanted more time with them. Lots and lots more time.
She silently gave thanks to Belinda and Kainano, who, between the two of them, had ensured Chelsea’s mood and preoccupation did not interfere with the smooth running of the restaurant. Belinda’s professionalism and brilliant customer skills and Kainano’s abilities in the kitchen also meant she could sit here now, parked outside Levi’s home and stare longingly at the door.
Under ordinary circumstances, she’d never have come here. But the note that had been left for her at Chelsea’s proved there was nothing normal about these circumstances.
Alongside the address had been the words:
We’ll be here, whatever time you leave the restaurant tonight.
L & S
She would have gone immediately had she not owned the restaurant. Facing up to her responsibilities, she’d forced herself to spend at least an hour at Chelsea’s before finally escaping. In that time, she’d called a customer by the wrong name, delivered table three’s food to table nine and mishandled a bottle of Chardonnay, ensuring that wine and glass smashed to the ground, splattering along the length and breadth of the bar floor.
Belinda, bless her, had subtly suggested Chelsea leave before she accidentally burned down the kitchen.
With her hands trembling, her cheeks on fire and the note burning a hole in her palm, she’d hightailed it to Double Bay—where Levi lived. But that didn’t mean she was ready to get out of the car.
She wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to get out of the car.
How could she walk up the front path, knock on the door and face not one but two men she wanted? What if they laughed at her? Or sat her down and explained that no woman would ever come between their friendship? What if they kindly but politely told her she was out of her mind and her league, and requested she never speak to either of them again?
It would destroy her.
On the other hand, how could she not walk up the path?
Levi and Spencer waited inside. And God help her, for every fear that haunted her, a million hormones urged her on.
Putting on her bravest face, Chelsea opened the car door.
She could deal with this. She could accept whatever they said to her. She was a grown woman, for heaven sake, and had dealt with dozens of men in her time.
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