The Good Ones Go

Four bars and half an hour into their night, Chelsea and Colson finally settle into a cozy one where they have good IPAs on tap. The metal music blaring from the speakers set the tone she wants, and she is happy to perch onto the bar stool next to Colson who has a boyish grin on his face.

Four Lagunitas later Chelsea is feeling good. This is exactly what she needed, she thinks to herself as she laugh at another memory Colson recalls. She feels the little black dress ride up a little as she leans over the counter to push her empty glass toward the bartender who can't seem to keep his eyes off her chest tonight. Her blood alcohol level allows her not to mind the exposure or the eyes tonight.

Colson notices, but doesn't mention it. She's a grown woman, and he's sure she doesn't mind the attention right now. He takes a sip of his Jameson, but keeps his eyes on her. He can't help but stare at the way she flutters her eyelashes when she notices his gaze.

"You remember that time Mr. Johnson caught us making out in the hallway during lunch?" she asks him with a gleam in her eyes as she takes a sip from her ice cold glass. She wouldn't mind reliving that experience right now in her drunken glory.

"Yea, only because he was going to give us detention until you turned around and winked at him, and he almost had a fucking asthma attack," Colson adds with a grin. He could almost feel her lips on his as recalls the moment. It seems like it was centuries ago.

"I blew him a kiss too. That sealed the deal," she adds with a giggle. She's comfortable tonight, and that's something she hasn't felt in a while.

"I hope you're enjoying yourself as much as I am," Colson clears his throat. He can tell that she's feeling the liquor, but he hopes that isn’t the only contributing factor.

"I am," she nods as she takes another sip. She doesn't want it to get warm before she has a chance to finish it, but she decides this one will be her last because she's definitely not young enough to handle any more with a shred of dignity left. "Thank you for suggesting this, because I really needed it," she sighs. "I'm still waiting to hear back from any of the positions I applied to. I honestly didn’t think it would take this long, but I guess I don't exactly stand out here. They've got plenty of their own doctors, it's silly to think they'd choose me," she knows the disappointment is oozing through her words.

"Okay, and we are definitely not here to talk about any of that," he tries to redirect the conversation. It's supposed to be a fun night, and he doesn't want her ruining her own buzz.

"I know, I know," she rolls her eyes at the disapproving look he's throwing her way.

"Do you wanna go down to the pier tonight? I mean I know you wanted ice cream and a ride, but I'd recommend we save that for another day considering I don't want cleaning up vomit to be the way I end the night," he smirks as he tells her.

"Sure, I think I'm up for anything," she tells him with another eye roll as she pulls up her falling bra strap.

"Who would've thought that all it takes to loosen you up is a couple beers," he jokes as he takes another sip before reaching into his jeans to pull out his wallet.

"I'm trying to be reasonable. I didn't fly across the entire country to keep to my old ways, right?" she asks leaning back as she brings her glass to her mouth.

Colson watches her lick her lips after a gulp, and he can't believe how sexy she looks as she sets her glass down and flips her hair back behind her shoulder. His eyes trail down her body to her exposed legs which she crosses on cue, and he finds himself sinking his teeth into his lip as he imagines how good she would feel under his hands. He hears her clear her throat, and he's sure his face flushes a little as he looks back up to meet her cloudy eyes. He's positive her judgment is just as clouded because she gives him a wink, and if she hadn't had anything to drink he's sure he would've kissed her right there.

"There's nothing wrong with having a little fun, Chelsea," he says, and even though he's responding to her previous statement, he can't help but feel that it's his subconscious flirting with her.

Chelsea can't help but filter everything through a drunken lens, and she hears his statement as a proposal she'd like to take up. "Oh, I'm definitely up for a little fun," she leans in to whisper before turning back around for another sip of her beer. From the corner of her eye she sees bodies shifting, and when she looks up just across the bar her heart stops.

Colson rolls his eyes at her shameless flirting. He knows she wouldn't back it up, because by the time they get home she'll be completely sober and admit that it was an illogical statement to make. He looks up at her to see her face pale before his eyes, and he furrows his brows as he asks her, "Chelsea, what's wrong?" When she says nothing he follows her gaze down the bar and is equally surprised to see Travis sitting there with an oblivious redhead.

"Okay, do you want to go because we can go?" he asks pulling a hundred from his wallet and setting it on the counter. He doesn't know what she's thinking, but seeing him obviously makes her uncomfortable, and he's perfectly fine with being her savior right now.

Chelsea can't even hear herself think. She hears Colson's voice, but no part of her brain can spare the power to process his speech. She can feel her heart thumping in the pit of her stomach, and she's praying she won't be sick as she feels a wave of heat overcome her. She feels trapped because she can't look away from the brown eyes staring dead at her, and though she can't read his expression, she can see the familiar dazzling smile of the redhead next to him as she waves at her. Her hands are sweating, and she can feel herself shaking. There's no way around it - she's sure she's going to vomit. She jumps up off the stool, and her tunnel vision guides her toward the door of the bar. When she's outside she gasps at the crisp air of the night realizing she'd been holding her breath the whole time. She brings a cigarette to her lips with shaky fingers, and her head spins at the sound of the door opening to see Colson step out into the night.

"Are you okay? You look sick," he's worried as he looks her over. He wants to take his jacket off and wrap it around her, but she looks too warm so he decides against it.

"I'm fine," she manages to get out between deep inhales and exhales of smoke. She's not fine. She's panicking. Seeing him with her again makes it hurt even more. She's jealous. She's so fucking jealous it's pathetic.

"You're definitely not fine. What the fuck's going on? Is it Travis?" he asks leaning against the brick wall as the breeze hits the skin of his neck relieving his own heat. She doesn't answer, and he's left rolling his eyes. It's Travis. "Let me go pull the car around. Will you be okay for a minute?" he doesn't know if her feet will carry her down the block right now. She only nods in response before taking another drag.

Colson walks away briskly, but she doesn't watch him. The music seeps through the opening bar door once again, but she makes no attempt to look over as she lets her cigarette smoke consume her. "I thought that was you. What are you doing in LA?" that so familiar so beautiful voice lingers in her mind.

"Chelsea?" she hears him ask again, and finally she allows herself to look over. She feels her heart drop as she does because as soon as she sees him there she has an uncontrollable urge to run into his arms. She doesn't, and, goddamn, it takes all the self control she has in her.

"I, uh, I need a, uh, I needed a change of scenery," she finds herself stumbling over her words again as she says them. Her blood feels so hot as it surges through her body, and she can feel the electricity sting her skin as her eyes stare straight at his lips.

Travis stares at her with furrowed brows obviously confused. "You mean you moved out here?" he asks her in disbelief. "With him?" The last two words come out with disgust like his mouth is full of expired milk. He doesn't understand why she would relocate to LA with her ex boyfriend. Why hasn't she called him back?

The sound of a honking horn pulls them both out of their thoughts, and Travis looks up to see MGK in his signature Phantom waving Chelsea over from the driver's seat.

Chelsea is willing her feet to move, but they won't. She wants to run away so bad. The feelings surging through her body are indescribable, and she's never been so scared before. She's watching Colson wave at her aggressively, and she lets out a sigh as she says, "goodbye, Travis," before sprinting toward the car.

"Chelsea!" he shouts after her, but she doesn't stop. "Chelsea!" he tries again, but it's too late because as soon as she gets in Colson steps on the gas and peels away. Travis looks back with an angry grunt as the bar door opens, and Madie steps into view.

"Did you know?" she asks him with crossed arms. She's pissed. She agreed to meet up with him, but if all of this is to make Chelsea jealous then she doesn't want any part in it.

"No," Travis shakes he head as he looks up at her. The red dress she's wearing is incredibly flattering, but he can't even bring himself to focus on that right now.

"Why'd you call me if you're not over her?" she demands. She's not here to play games.

"Honestly, I needed a distraction. I never thought she'd be out here," he admits still in shock. John Hopkins was her life. If she could leave that behind for MGK, then Travis doesn't stand a chance.

Madie wonders if it's fate. Maybe those two belong together, but in this moment it doesn't matter. "I'll give you a pass," she starts with a grin, "you are the birthday boy after all, and if you want a distraction, then I'll definitely give you one." Before he has a chance to say anything she has him pressed up against the dark cold bricks, and her lips are on his. Her hand is outlining his cock through his tight jeans, and she can hear him groan into her mouth. Even if it's only for one night, she'll be damned if he doesn't forget about Chelsea.



"Sorry about yesterday," Colson's deep raspy voice travels from the staircase and to her waiting ears. He watches her make herself a couple slices of toast as he pulls his jeans up before fastening his belt.

"Didn’t think he'd be there," Chelsea says feeling her head throb with the vibration of every word. She's got a raging headache, and though she's not upset that her night didn't turn out the way she wanted it to, she's upset that she ran into him.

"Were you guys like a thing because the way you reacted, I just don’t understand," Colson asks her as he grabs a bottle of water from his polished Samsung fridge. He watches her reaction as he takes a sip. She's in her underwear again, and this time they're not playful, they're lacy. Her cropped light pink long sleeve reaches just underneath her breasts, and her hair is no longer straight but coiling up into wavy curls against her shoulders. She was more uncomfortable more covered up in front of him just yesterday than she is right now. Maybe his question makes her uncomfortable, but as she stands there half-naked nibbling on her toast she seems as comfortable as someone with a hangover can be.

"You weren’t running away from Adam were you?" He asks in a moment of realization. He doesn't like to think that they're here because she's running, but it's true. Whatever's going on between her and Travis seems toxic because she's withering before him like a drowning plant.

Chelsea lets out a sigh as she chews on the dry bread. She feels her stomach groaning, and she shuts her eyes as she shakes her head in admission. Colson knows the truth now. She was hoping this would be a conversation they could avoid for a while, but Travis stomped all over those plans. Still, she can’t help but want to see those brown eyes again.

Colson sighs from beside her before he reaches over to grab a bite of her toast. Chelsea doesn't say anything, and it makes him nervous. This is not what he thought would happen. He was wrong when he thought she wanted this with him. "Well look, I wish I could stay, I really do, but I need to head to the studio today. Are you going to be ok by yourself because you can come if you really want to?" She's not okay, and he doesn't want her to be alone, but suddenly she's making him feel claustrophobic, and he needs to get away.

She shakes her head, "I'll be fine." She can see him nod from the corner of her eye, and when he grabs his bottle and the front door shuts audibly, she lets out a dramatic sigh she's been holding back. She wills her feet to carry her to the fridge and then the living room.

Chelsea lies down on the cool couch with an open Sierra Nevada on the coffee table next to her. Another drink is the perfect cure for a raging hang over, and though this is not how she planned to spend her day, she's changing her plans. Her iPhone buzzes on the couch against her bare thigh, and she reaches to grab it letting out a groan at the name sprawled across her screen. She can't avoid him forever. Running was a bad idea.

"If I wanted to talk to you then I'd call you," she spits at him, and even through the receiver he can feel her anger.

Chelsea feels betrayed, but so does he. He just wanted to see her happy. She was never supposed to fall back into Colson again. Travis was supposed to be there to make sure it didn’t happen, but he can feel his heart breaking now. It's too late, and she's his now. The only man he couldn’t compete with: Colson Baker.

"Can I just come over so we can talk?" he asks her, trying to get the lump in his throat down. He chooses to ignore her rude greeting as he struggles to control his breathing.

Chelsea considers the proposal. She's not in the mood. She doesn’t even know what she would say to him. "I don't think that's a good idea," she squirms on the couch realizing that Colson wouldn't want him here.

"Chelsea, I think we both just need some closure, okay?" he tries to convince her. Closure is a joke. He'll never get past her. Not even Madie could succeed last night. She left angry pretty soon after they made it to his hotel because he just couldn't focus on her hands without imagining Chelsea.

Chelsea groans out loud. She doesn't want this. She left to avoid this, but she can't say no to Travis. She hangs up without a word, and before he has a chance to call back she shoots him a text with the address.

344 14th Street. Travis clicks the link and looks down at Google Maps in surprise. He was expecting a hotel in the city, but they're staying in North of Montana. Maybe this is useless. It seems like she's too far gone. He's already in the garage though, and he has to try. He jumps into his rental and follows his GPS for the next 40 minutes.

Chelsea chugs her beer before she heaves herself off the couch. She walks up the stairs and pulls a pair of shorts on. They're a light wash denim and barely cover her butt, but the alcohol that's still in her system has made her a different person. Baltimore Chelsea would be embarrassed by herself if she looked in the mirror. LA Chelsea, however, doesn't seem to give a single fuck as she struts out of the room.

She runs down the stairs and, though her head is throbbing, she can feel the anxiety creeping through her body like a sickness. She pulls another beer out of the fridge before she pairs her phone with the speakers in the kitchen and plays some music. Mac Miller's voice is blaring through the speakers, and the pain in it mimics her own as she turns the water on in the sink to wash a couple mugs and plates left over from yesterday. The time it takes Travis to get there feels like a fucking eternity. She's on her third beer, and it's only 10 AM, but it's the only thing allowing her to loosen up in the moment.

When the doorbell finally chimes, Chelsea shoots up from the couch she just settled back into and slides her slippers on. She takes a deep breath before her shaking hand reaches for the door knob and pulls the white oak door back. Travis is standing there in his designer clothes with one hand in his pocket, and his clean shaven face, as he pulls his sun glasses off, makes her lick her suddenly dry lips.

Travis can't help but allow his eyes to graze across her body. Slowly they trail up and down, and he can feel his heart beat out of his chest. She might be thirty, but he's never seen her wear something like this so she sure doesn't look it. He pulls off his Tom Ford sunglasses and takes a step inside as he fights the emotions whirling inside of him. Where is his classy best friend, and who is this carefree heart breaker standing in front of him?

"Wow, I, uh, didn’t realize you guys were this serious," he says as he allows himself to look around the house before returning his gaze to Chelsea. This place is beautiful. He didn't even realize she could afford something like this because this is definitely an investment, and if Chelsea came down here and bought this house with Colson, then there is no winning her back now.

"What do you want?" she ask with arms crossed. When he doesn’t respond immediately, she drags her feet against the flooring until she's in front of the couch. She won't grant him the truth by telling him that her and Colson are not together. She prefers to watch him squirm because he deserves it. Her head turns, and her eyes linger a little too long on his lips before they trail up to the eyes she's been dying to see.

Travis stands in front of her looking down. She's curled up on the sofa, and his body is telling him to drop down and kiss her, but he doesn’t. He sets his glasses on the coffee table before sitting down. His back leans up against the arm as he crosses his legs in front of him just to face her.

"Well?" Chelsea asks in a snarky tone. She's afraid she'll get too comfortable so she forces the anger in her tone.

"You kind of left me hanging," he tells her as he licks his lips. Her long bare legs are shielding the rest of her body, but they're enough to drive him so wild he has to keep from squirming in his seat.

"Not much different than what you did to me," she retorts with an eye roll. He doesn't get to blame her for anything.

Travis gulps at her words. She's absolutely right. "And Adam?" he asks wanting to get under her skin too.

"What about Adam?" she asks shifting in her seat to sit straight up and cross her legs. Her shirt lifts slightly as she pushes herself up, and she's irritated with herself for not throwing on a bra.

Travis' eyes don't fail to notice the porcelain skin of her breast that peeks under her top as she repositions herself. He can feel his heart skip a beat, and he's sure that any idiot within a mile radius can feel the sexual tension between them. "You kind of left him a mess," he forces himself to redirect his attention. He's here for a reason, and it's not sex. "I didn’t think you had it in you, Chelsea, honestly, I didn’t," he admits letting his head fall to stare at his lap.

She snorts at his words without letting her confidence falter. "I don’t even know what the fuck that’s supposed to mean," she snaps back. Whatever he's accusing her of, he's out of line.

"It's supposed to mean that you treated Adam exactly the way that asshole treated you, and then you fucking picked up and left your life behind for him," he raises his voice at her. 'You didn't even want to leave with me,' he wants to say, but he doesn't in fear of making the situation worse.

"Me? And tell me again, what exactly did I fucking do? Because as I recall you fucking kissed me," she shouts at him as she wraps her arms around herself protectively.

"And I apologized for it. You left him behind with no fucking closure. I'm tired of picking up everyone's goddamn pieces all the time," he yells back at her. "Can you please shut the fucking music off, I can't even hear myself think," he's flipping out as he stands to his feet and huffs, pushing his hair back.

Chelsea is taken aback by his words. Calmly she reaches over to her phone and pauses the barely audible music still playing in the kitchen from earlier. She's not scared, but she's confused. "Travis -" she starts, but he doesn't give her a chance.

"No, Chelsea, you don't get to tell me to calm down. You don't get to blame me for the choices you made. I kissed you, and you kissed me back. Then you went to fuck Adam, and when that didn't do it for you, you ran away to the other side of the fucking country with the last person I thought I'd find you with," his words are penetrating, but his tone is shaky, and he knows she can see right through the anger to the pain.

"I wasn't going to tell you to calm down," she responds with furrowed brows. She knows she sounds dismissive, and she knows it pisses him off even more.

Travis laughs at her words in disbelief. He shakes his head as he says, "I really don't even know what the fuck I'm doing here." His hands find their way back to his pockets as he leans against the arm of the white leather couch.

"You left because you thought I needed space. I just feel like I'm fucking suffocating, okay?" she raises her voice at him as she throws her legs of the couch, sighing as her bare feet touch the cool ground.

"And MGK is somehow alleviating that, right?" he scoffs her way and rolls his eyes.

"Yes. What's your fucking problem with him? You're completely out of line. You don't get to fucking decide who I spend my time with, Travis," she shouts up at him in disbelief.

"Oh, excuse your fucking best friend for being concerned for you," his words have a bite to them as he readjusts and crosses his arms in front of him.

"Concerned?" Chelsea laughs. "You call disappearing across the world and ignoring me for months concerned?" she makes sure her words bite back, and she's positive they do because she can see him swallow whatever smart ass comment he was going to say.

"I'm sorry, Chelsea, I'm fucking sorry!" he shouts out of nowhere, stepping back to look at her. "Nothing I do is to fucking hurt you. Goddamn it, I fucking love you, okay? You can't expect me to sit back and watch you bury yourself in a hole," he has to take another step back because he wants to wrap his arms around her, and he knows he can't.

Chelsea is at a loss for words. He can't keep doing this. He can't keep fucking with her head. "You love me? That's why you left me right? Why you're with Madie? Bullshit, and I'm not your little fucking sister either, Travis. I don't need you to look out for me," she's mad and hurt, and she doesn't want him here anymore. She's sick of being lied to.

"And you were with Colson remember? And then Adam! And now Colson again! I've been here forever, Chelsea, how the fuck can you fault me for trying to move on?" his voice is a whole lot of decibels louder than she expected, and he's sure the neighbors in the distance can hear. She's being selfish, and he has to let her know. They can't keep doing this with each other.

"Travis, I," she doesn't know what to say. He's taken the breath out of her, and she feels winded just sitting there looking at the familiar way his nose flares when he's mad.

"Just fucking tell me already because I need to know. Do you love me?" he can feel the heat in his ears and on his cheeks. His hands are balled up into fists in frustration. He's scared to ask her, but he needs to know the truth, to hear her say it, to finally move on.

Chelsea's neck snaps to the left at the sound of the front door slamming. Colson walks in, and his Red Hot Chili Peppers tank top flutters around his lanky torso as he moves. His eyes jump between the two bodies in his living room, and he furrows his brows and turns his snapback around so the bill is facing the back of his head before his deep voice asks, "what's going on here?"

"Nothing," Chelsea is quick to respond as she jumps to her feet.

Travis nods from in front of her. His feet shuffle as he reaches down to grab his sunglasses. "Nothing. Always nothing," there is a look of disappointment, a disgusted smirk on his face. "You changed, Chels, and I'm so goddamn sick of you," the words slip resentfully from his mouth before he turns to walk away.

"Travis!" it's Chelsea's turn to shout after him. That's not fair.

"Hey man, just chill out," Colson says, grabbing Travis' arm as he passes by him on his way out.

Travis wastes no time yanking his arm back. His words are laced with venom as he lets a threat slip between his lips, "unless you want a repeat of that engagement party, I suggest you keep your fucking hands to yourself."

Colson lets out a snicker, "please. You should know better than to assume I'd ever let you put your bitch ass hands on me again. That was a one time deal for Chelsea's sake, and if you try that shit again I can't promise you'll be breathing." His words are dangerous even if his tone is lighthearted.

Chelsea's chest is heaving up and down violently as she's struggling to breath. Her heartbeat is out of control as she watches the scene unfold before her, and she knows she has to interject before it goes too far.

"Richard," his name comes out as a gasp, and he turns to look at her panicked face.

"I think it's time for you to go," Colson redirects his attention to the man in front of him with balled up fists.

Travis wastes no time following his instructions. He opens the door and slams it shut behind him, ignoring Chelsea's pleading words as he gets in his car and peels away.

"Why the fuck did you think that would be a good idea?" Colson turns to ask the woman in front of him. The tears in her eyes are pooling and even from the distance he can see her shaking. His anger suddenly disappears as quick as it came, and he glides across the living room to wrap her up in his arms.

Chelsea tries to hold the tears back, but a small sob escapes her as she buries her head into his torso. Her hands grip his bare biceps as if she has to hold on to him in fear of falling down. She's trying to settle her breaths as she feels his hands settle on her bare back. Her thoughts are overwhelming, and so are her emotions, and when she pulls back to look up at him she can't help but reach up and lock her lips with his.

Colson stumbles back by the force of her kiss, and he lets himself fall back on the couch as he feels her body settle on top. She's straddling him, grinding her pelvis into his, and he can't help but sneak his hands further up her back just to grab onto her shoulders and pull her closer. He feels her hands leave his neck, and as they roam down his chest he hears her sniffle. He forces himself to pull back whispering, "Chelsea." He's out of breath because she caught him off guard, and as he looks up at her he can see her eyes are clouded over with lust. He pulls his hands away from her body, and he diverts his gaze hoping she'll get the hint and get off.

Chelsea sighs and reaches to pull herself off his lap. She settles next to him and runs her hands through her hair before saying, "God, I'm such an idiot. I'm sorry."

Colson nods his head as he asks, "so he's the someone else?" He already knows the answer, but he wants to hear her say it. He needs to hear her confirm that this is it. There's nothing. There is no Colson and Chelsea, there is just Colson, and then there is just Chelsea.

"I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong idea. I just thought if I got away I'd be able to figure everything out. I didn't think my demons would follow me here," she admits as her eyes sink down to her lap. She's too fucking old for this shit.

"Chelsea," Colson's voice calls, and she picks up her head to look at him. "I love you, and I know you love me too. If we can't ever be us anymore, then I understand. I'll regret it forever, but I understand," this side of him is new to her. He's spent so many years disappointing her, and he wishes he could fix it with a simple sentence, but he knows it's too late. "I just don't want you to make the same mistakes as me," he offers her the advice he wishes someone else had given him. Fucking him to feel something other than that pain in her heart won't fix anything, and he won't let her pile on the regrets anymore. He took advantage of her for so long, and he can't do it again.

Chelsea nods in understanding. He's right. Whatever soul searching Colson had done when she left him has worked. She doesn't quite know how between the two of them he ends up wiser, but he's right. This destructive path she's heading down won't do her any good. It's time to grow the fuck up, and move the fuck on too.