by Jamie Howard
When I reach the sand, I call out. “Sloane?”
She moves a few feet in front of me, the sequins in her dress glinting underneath the white light of the moon. I walk over until I’m standing in front of her.
Her shoulders are slumped, and a few stray tears leak from the corners of her eyes. She doesn’t look at me, but I can feel her giving up. I spent most of the summer trying to make this happen, trying to break her down. But now that I have her surrender, I find that it’s not what I want at all.
I have so many questions I don’t even know where to start. So I pick one and start there. “What does your father have to do with cheating men? Your parents have one of the best marriages I’ve ever seen.”
She laughs without much humor in it. “Looks can be deceiving, can’t they?” Her finger flicks away a tear, and she turns a little so that she can look up at my face. “Blaire didn’t tell you? She didn’t let you in on the big family secret?”
I shake my head.
“My dad’s a cheating bastard. He couldn’t deal with not getting laid while Mom suffered through a high-risk pregnancy with Blaire, so instead he went out and knocked up some other woman. That woman gave birth to me nine months later.” She turns away, giving her head a slight shake. “Mom took in his bastard and raised me as her own. She swallowed his infidelity and lived with the proof of it every single day of her life. Never complaining, never raging against his betrayal. Just taking it. What kind of person does that make her?”
“It makes her loyal, Sloane. It makes her the kind of person who can forgive your father for some stupid-ass mistake he made.” I’m talking about her parents, but I’m thinking about us. “I get being pissed at your dad, but your mom? From what I can tell, she never treated you any differently. She loves you.” I run a hand through my hair as I try to process this new information, these new insights into Sloane.
“She lied to me, Luke. For eighteen years she lied to me.” She counts off on her fingers. “Mom, Dad, Blaire—they all lied to me. That’s all people ever do—lie and cheat. If you think about it, the betrayal, the cheating, is in my blood. I’m cursed by it. I’m surrounded by cheating men.” She turns around in a circle until her eyes land back on me.
“I didn’t cheat on you,” I say, though my argument is weak at best. My stomach rolls as the reality of what Sloane went through that summer sinks in. First Nick, then me, then her Dad. It’s no wonder she shut off the way she did.
“You want to argue semantics with me?”
I ask another question. “You saw … me and Blaire?”
“One of the highlights of my teenage years, let me tell you. I should have brought popcorn with me; that’s really my only regret.” She’s right back at it again, trying to rebuild the walls she hides behind.
The wind gusts at us, tearing her hair out from her interwoven braid. She holds up a hand to shield her face from the sand and then, without a word, she turns and starts walking away. I hurry after her, surprised to find that I’m still clutching her shoes in my hands.
Instead of heading back inside, she heads through an arch to a covered patio that sits underneath the terrace. Here, we’re sheltered from the wind.
“I never wanted you to see that,” I tell her, trying to swallow through the guilt that’s built a barricade in my throat.
“Then what did you want? Explain it to me Luke, because I don’t fucking understand.” She fists her hands at her sides, letting her eyes search mine. “Did I imagine it? Did I make it all up in my head? I knew who you were. I saw the lipstick stains on your collar; I smelled the perfume. But I could have sworn…” The muscles in her neck work as she swallows. “If someone had asked me, I would have sworn that there was something between us. That you felt something more for me. Tell me why, Luke. Why? Because for the life of me, I’ve never been able to understand it.”
I squeeze her shoes so hard between my fingers that I’m not sure they’ll ever regain their shape. “I was a fucking mess, Sloane. You deserved better than that. I didn’t want you to get saddled with some sad, messed-up kid who wasn’t even close to having his shit together. I thought I was doing the right thing—pushing you away, making you hate me. I thought it right up until the second I finished with Blaire, when I realized I’d made the biggest mistake of my damn life. I was so fucking crazy about you that I didn’t care if I took you down with me. I didn’t care that I was the worst possible thing in the world for you. I needed you more than I needed to breathe. When you disappeared, when you wouldn’t answer my calls or my texts, I convinced myself it was for the best. I’ve never done it the right way, or said it the right way, but I’ve always wanted the best for you, even if it wasn’t me.”
“The best for me? God, Luke, how could you not see that you were what was best for me? Let’s be honest here: the only one who got what they wanted was you.” She waves her hand at me. “You’re happy, you’re in love, you turned your life around. It’s all kittens and rainbows for you. Blaire too, really. It’s just me that gets fucked over and over and over.”
I don’t want to push her any further, but I have to know. “Did you mean it? When you said you were coming to tell me that you loved me, did you mean it?” My voice is hardly louder than a whisper, and I think a part of me is hoping she doesn’t hear it. That the wind will snatch my words and carry them away before they reach her. I’m not sure I’m ready to hear her answer.
“Yes, Luke, I meant it. I still mean it. I’ll probably always mean it, because my heart is that type of traitor.” She looks so disgusted with herself, like if she could reach into her chest and rip out her heart to make it go away, she wouldn’t hesitate for a second. “Just make it stop, Luke. I can’t take it anymore. There’s nothing left to break, and it still won’t stop hurting.”
She turns her face up to mine, the tears swimming in her eyes giving me that odd drowning sensation again. I expect her to crumple to the ground, to break down and start sobbing hysterically, but she just keeps staring at me, waiting for me to fix it. The tears leak out of the corners of her eyes, like she’s not even aware she’s crying, making wet tracks down her cheeks.
I trace my fingertip down them, feeling the wetness of her tears. “Tell me what I can do, and I’ll do it.”
Her eyes are searching mine and all her defenses are down. The way she’s looking at me makes me feel like steel bands are crushing my chest, squeezing tighter with every passing second. It hurts with every breath, with every beat of my heart. I did this to her. Me, Luke Evans, who thought I was worth nothing. To Sloane, I was everything. The realization of that is as terrifying as it is exhilarating.
“Kiss me, Luke.”
Chapter 42
Sloane
I don’t care how pathetic I sound, how desperate I look. I can hate myself tomorrow; I’ll have plenty of time for it. But on this night, when all my defenses have been blown to bits, I want only one thing—Luke.
Before I step back over the edge and throw myself into the pit of nothingness, I want to remember what it’s like one more time to drown myself in love. Tomorrow, I’ll just bandage up another wound to my soul and keep pushing forward, because I need this.
I retreat backward until I can feel the stone wall against my back, the rough texture of it harsh against my skin. He towers over me, blocking out the majority of the light with his large frame. Instead of doing this the quick-and-simple way like I expected, he tosses my shoes off to the side, and they land with a clatter against the smooth pavers. He steps closer until his shoes bump against my bare toes. Reaching his hand up, he trails his thumb along the edge of my jaw, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.
His eyes roam over my face, never settling in one spot. Above my head, his fist thumps against the wall and he drops his forehead against mine, shuttering his eyes. “I can’t.”
His rejection is like a slap in the face, but it stings everywhere. God, what is wrong with me? Even now I can’t stop throwing myself at him. I try to wriggle past him
, but his hands drop to my shoulders and hold me in place.
“Stop, Sloane.”
“Just let me go.”
“I can’t!” His hands release me so he can tunnel his fingers through his hair. Taking one step away, he locks his fingers behind his head and stares out at the ocean. With a deep breath, he turns on his heel and comes right back to me. “I can’t let you go. I never could. I could never stop thinking about you, as hard as I tried. And this.” He lays his palm over my heart, the tips of his fingers brushing the base of my throat. “I want this more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life. But not like this.” His hair falls forward over his forehead as he shakes his head. “Not when you’re vulnerable and not when I’m still with Haley. I’ve waited so long for this, I can’t screw it up.” His eyelids flutter shut and his lips pinch together. “I’ve fucked up so many things in my life. I don’t think I’d survive you walking away from me again.”
“Hey, hey.” Hesitantly, I lift up one hand and rest it against his cheek. The tiniest bit of stubble scratches against my palm. I keep the rest of my body firmly away from him, trying to respect the boundary he’s set up between us. “Look at me.” I wait until his long lashes sweep up, and the undisguised pain in his eyes slices through me. “You can’t take full responsibility for what happened with us.” I run my tongue over my lips. “Or Cash.”
“But if I’d—”
I seal my thumb over his lips, pressing down. “You can’t think like that. What if I’d just told you how I felt instead of hiding it from you? What if I’d offered to buy you a new phone? What if after I saw you and Blaire I didn’t run? What if I confronted you? What if, what if, what if. It’s the moist pointless phrase in the entire English language, because the truth is we’ll never know and we can never change it. All we’ve got is right now and what comes next.”
I can feel a flush work itself into my cheeks, and my eyes sting as tears prickle into them. If I could go back, there are so many things I would change. So many things I’d say when I had the chance.
Luke’s breath is like a hot whisper over my skin as he breathes out, and goose bumps trail the length of my neck and cascade down my spine. I drag my thumb down off his mouth, and my finger catches a little on his lower lip.
“I never got a chance to tell you,” he says. “But I hope you know you changed my life that summer.”
This time it’s Luke’s fingers on my chin, keeping my head in place, not letting me look away. We’re both still trying to hide from this confrontation, from all the feelings that it’s dragging it up. It’s like we’re pulling back the curtain on all our scars and examining them under the harsh light of day—picking at them, poking at them. Some are well healed and faded, but others are still raw and painful, even after all this time.
I can’t help myself. I try to put up another wall because it’s the only defense mechanism that’s been working for me, and right now everything inside me is hurting. The smile on my lips is shaky and forced. “The sex was pretty good, I’ll admit, but I’m not sure I’d call it life changing.”
“Don’t do that. That’s not what I mean and you know it.” He shrugs his shoulders, like he’s trying to work out the tension. “Why do you have to make this so hard, Sloane? Why do you always have to believe the worst of everyone? Of me?”
I clench my jaw. “Because that’s all anyone ever shows me.”
He lowers his lips to my ear. His breath sends delicious sensations skating across my skin. “You always brought out the best in me. Losing Cash…” His voice stumbles, and a muscle in his cheek bunches. “Losing Cash may have been what finally turned my life around, but you changed me long before that. You saw something in me that no one else ever had. You believed in me, and I can’t even explain to you how much that meant to the screwed-up kid I was. The right words don’t even exist for me to thank you for that.”
My breath catches in my throat, and instead of easing the pain in my lungs like it’s supposed to, it’s like it’s strangling me. The distance between our lips can be measured in inches, two or three at best, and it takes everything in me to stay still, to keep my back pressed against the wall and my hands at my sides. I curl my fingers until my nails bite into the tender skin of my palms.
Luke’s eyes dip down to my lips and I know he must be thinking the same thing, feeling the same thing, but neither of us moves. As much as I want him, I know he’s right. This isn’t the time or place. Back in the day Luke wouldn’t have hesitated, he would’ve had my dress up around my hips and my back against this wall without a second thought for Haley.
And as if my thoughts conjure her, a voice calls out from above us. “Luke, are you out here? Luke?”
Luke is as still as the stone wall behind me, but he traps my eyes with his, not letting me look away. It’s another minute before we hear her leave and the door close behind her.
“You love Haley,” I say, not bothering to disguise the defeat in my voice.
He gives his head a small shake. “Not the way that I love you.”
My heart is bouncing around in my chest throwing confetti, before my brain has time to process his words. All I manage to get out is, “What?”
“I. Love. You,” he says. “It took me a long time to admit it after you left the first time. I didn’t want to even then, because I knew it wasn’t the same for you, and loving you without you loving me back just made me feel like a jackass. A pathetic jackass.”
I wrap his tie around my hand and give it a little tug. “Well, jackass, you had a very strange way of showing it.”
He grimaces. “I only did what I did with Blaire to push you away. I was in a bad place then, and you deserved better than that. Better than me. Is there any way we can pretend it never happened?”
“Absolutely not.” I laugh, then sober up. “Are you sure about this?” I almost choke on the words, but I force them out. “You and Haley are really great together. I know I’ve said a lot of crap about her, but the truth is, she’s just like I used to be—sweet, honest, sincere. She’s the version of me you fell in love with, and I’m not … I’m not sure I’ll ever be that person again.”
“She is all those things, but she’ll never be you. No one will ever be you.”
I sink my teeth in my lower lip to keep it from trembling. My heart is swelling to unprecedented sizes, and the weight I’ve been carrying around on my shoulders is suddenly gone. It’s like I can finally take a full breath for the first time in years.
A tear snakes its way down my cheek, and I quickly wipe it away with the back of my hand.
“Hey, don’t cry.” His Adam’s apple bobs up and down in his throat as he swallows. “Is this not … do you not want me?”
I try to hold it back, but a laugh bursts out from between my lips. “Christ, Luke. Of course I want you.” I sniff, trying to stop myself from sobbing. “I’m not crying because I’m sad; I’m crying because I’m happy. So goddamned happy, and I wasn’t sure I’d ever feel this way again.”
I wrap my arms around his waist and rest my cheek against his chest. I’m probably standing right on the line when I do it, but I do it anyway. His arms come around me, and I feel him rest his chin on top of my head.
“I’ll have to tell her,” he says, and I can hear the weariness in his voice. “I can’t do that to her here. Tomorrow, though, first thing. I promise.”
“Okay,” I say, surprised that I actually believe him.
“We should probably head back inside.”
“M-hmm.” I sigh when he steps back. It’s so much colder out here when his arms aren’t around me, so I wrap my arms around myself and try to hold on to what little warmth he left me with. “You shouldn’t come back through these doors, though, she already thinks you weren’t out here. Go that way a little,” I point, “through the doors on your right. You can make your way back around through there. Say that you got lost on the way to the bathroom. It’s definitely a believable excuse since you already gave Haley the wrong directions
there.”
“Shit, I did? Where did I send her?”
I laugh. “The upstairs study.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“What fun would that have been?”
Chapter 43
Luke
“You can make your way around from there,” she said. I snort. I’m sure that I can, it’s just a matter of actually doing it. So far I’ve managed to surprise apart a couple making out in a corner, accidentally detour into the kitchen, and surprisingly enough find another bathroom. How many does this place have?
By the time I make it back to the ballroom, I’ve been wandering around for at least ten minutes. I seriously need to get Sloane to draw me a map of this freaking place.
I slip into the room as unobtrusively as possible, which honestly isn’t even that difficult since the place is packed with people. Harrison, Haley, and Blaire are sitting at our table. Making my way over to the table, I make a quick stop at the bar for another drink. I’m going to need it to get through the rest of tonight.
Dropping into my seat next to Haley, I hear her say, “I can’t believe I missed that. I’m so sorry, Blaire.”
I frown. “What are we feeling sorry for Blaire for?”
Blaire throws a disgusted look my way. “For Sloane’s lovely toast.”
“Ah, yeah, that was certainly … memorable.” I shift in my seat. “Although, I should probably take at least part of the blame for that.”
“What?” Blaire asks, her words slicing through the air.
“It’s not like I wrote the speech with her or anything. I just … well, we may have been arguing when your mom came over here and insisted that she give a speech.”
Harrison shakes his head slowly back and forth at me.
Haley frowns, a small line puckering her forehead. “What were you arguing about?”
“He was telling me that I should treat you with more respect, and that it was out of line to call you a bubblegum princess. I told him that it was tough shit, that you were asking for it when you dress that absurdly,” Sloane says, startling me by appearing from out of nowhere. Where the hell did she come from?
