Problematic Promises

I can't even lie to you, dude. I thought I was pretty much used to all the ways in which Chloe was capable of making me uncomfortable. Four years of spending most of my waking hours with the woman (and more than a few sleeping hours) had exposed me to a plethora of over sharing and personal space, what personal space? moments. I mean how many ways can a person invade your life before you become immune to flushes, blushes, and hot flashes? Three years of living in the same house had definitely done away with almost all normal people boundaries.

One does not get to keep their boundaries when one is best friends with Chloe Beale.

So I'm pretty much immune to Chloe's friendly gropes. Well, not immune so much as accustomed. I'm used to her suggestive eyes and flirty grins. I'm even pretty much physically nonreactive to the way she presses her front against my back when our blankets and pillows are mysteriously situated beside each other at the whenever it strikes our fancy Bellas Living Room Slumber Parties.

I was solid and secure in my role as Chloe's body pillow and Secret Keeper.

And then I mixed Promises and Problem together for that ridiculous convention performance.

As per usual, Chloe and I had squirreled ourselves away to run through the demo so that we would be on the same page when we presented it to the rest of the Bellas.

And, listen, honestly? I don't make these mashups with the idea that ten (insanely talented) women are going to have to recreate each and every part. I mean, yeah, I have that knowledge tucked away in some small compartment of my mind (I am the captain), but I mix songs so that they sound awesome. And then, y'know, we figure it out. Because I'd go absolutely bonkers if I focused on how each and every one of us would fit into one song, never mind four or five weaving in and out of each other. Like, it's not not on my mind, but each of those girls is incredible, and we've all come to understand how we fit and where to make space and how to anticipate each other's contributions.

We're a finely tuned machine after three-plus years of dominating the collegiate a cappella scene. Pick a song, dude. Pick a song. We'll blow your mind in thirty seconds or less.

I'm getting distracted. The point is that I didn't really think about hearing the lyrics of these two songs being sung by someone I knew. By someone in the same room as me. By someone….

Do you have any idea how hot it is to have Chloe Beale maintain eye contact with you as she very sweetly requests that you lick her down? So sweetly. Like she's asking you to grab her a glass of water if you happen to find yourself with a free hand on your way back from the kitchen.

Somehow that sweet innocence (as bullshit as it was) made it even hotter.

And then to not be able to fulfill that request because Chloe Beale is simply singing a line in a song that you told her to sing?

It's fucking frustrating. And hot. And so. damn. frustrating.

And a little bit of a mind-blowing revelation.

And totally platonic even though Chloe Beale's idea of platonic interaction is pretty much everyone else's idea of a wet dream.

Because Chloe Beale has those eyes, and that hair, and those lips, and that body.

And the most charmingly endearing personality I've ever been subjected to.

I think she saw my hard swallow when my brain caught up to what she'd just sung at me.

I think her brain caught up at about the same time.

Because she stuttered (and Chloe Beale does not stutter) her way through the next line, and trailed off when I missed my own.

And that's how we found ourselves mutually uncomfortable in each other's presence for the first time in years.

And that's how I discovered that I'm pretty sure I want nothing more than to do exactly what Chloe had unintentionally asked me to do.