Chapter 29 Sloane
SLOANE
The sheets were warm. That was the first thing I registered.
The weight of the comforter, the soft brush of skin against my back, and the slow, even breath at the nape of my neck.
Oliver’s arm was wrapped loosely around my waist. His hand rested below my ribs, fingers splayed like he’d needed the contact to fall asleep.
The room was still. Early light filtered through the blinds in soft lines across the far wall. The kind of light that always made me feel like I was in the wrong place—like I should’ve been awake an hour earlier, already working through player logs and neuro reports.
My phone buzzed somewhere on the nightstand. Twice. I ignored it.
Instead, I lay still and listened to him breathe.
His chest rose against my back. His lips brushed the top of my shoulder once, a subtle shift in sleep, and then he stilled again.
He didn’t know I was awake. Last night was…
it changed things. This wasn’t some fling between us.
I knew that in my bones, that this relationship could be the thing I’d always dreamed about. Something real, something solid.
I trailed my fingers over his arm, my heart swelling thinking about how tender he was last night, how he stared at me like he cared. He was nothing like the version of him I had found on the closet floor yesterday, hands clenched and heart rate spiking, blinking tears into the dust.
I closed my eyes, trying to settle my thoughts, but the weight of them pressed against my chest. I should’ve gotten up. I should’ve moved, but my body didn’t want to leave his.
Oliver murmured something incoherent, his breath warm against my skin. He pulled me closer for a second, his arm tightening slightly before he settled again.
I rolled onto my back slowly, trying not to wake him. He didn’t stir.
His face was relaxed. Unburdened. His lips parted, brows soft, expression neutral in a way that made my chest ache. The lines that usually lived at the corners of his eyes were faded in sleep. I studied them anyway.
He looked younger like this, or maybe less haunted. I knew I wanted to wake up with him like this every day.
My phone buzzed again, and this time I reached for it.
William: Labs are back. Call when you’re in. Want to talk it out with you.
The message sat heavy on the screen, a knot in my chest tightening.
This was about Oliver, this man who was now ingrained in my heart.
A part of me was pleased that William wanted to talk it out with me, but that meant the results were up for discussion, that they weren’t black and white.
And I had a feeling I knew what the results were. I have to get there now.
I wasn’t sure I could stay objective with Oliver anymore, which meant I couldn’t do my job.
I slid out from under the sheets and sat on the edge of the bed.
My legs felt heavy. My chest even heavier.
I grabbed the hoodie he’d left crumpled at the foot of the bed and tugged it over my head.
I padded out into the hallway barefoot. The apartment was silent, only the distant hum of the refrigerator breaking it.
I grabbed a glass from the cabinet, filled it with water, and leaned against the counter.
My tablet buzzed again.
William: Need confirmation you’ve seen this.
Fuck. I was terrified of the results. I had to get there. I needed to see with my own eyes, so I could adjust. My heart raced. My stomach tightened. God, what were the results?
I didn’t answer him yet. I sipped the water slowly, letting the silence fill my ears.
Oliver’s apartment was neat but lived-in.
A pair of shoes left half-tucked near the door.
A clean water bottle on the table, unopened.
Dishes drying in the rack. It was so normal.
So unremarkable. But standing in it like this, hoodie oversized on my frame, I felt out of place in the best and worst way.
It felt like a life. A simple, steady one. The kind of life I’d spent years telling myself I didn’t need. I didn’t know if I was allowed to want it.
The sound of my phone ringing cut through the stillness. I turned it over.
Caleb.
My stomach dropped but not in the way it used to. It wasn’t panic. It was anticipation. We hadn’t spoken since the diner. That was the first time in years we’d had a conversation that didn’t end with me walking away.
I answered on the second ring. “Hey.”
“Hey,” he said. His voice was steadier. “I didn’t mean to interrupt anything.”
“You didn’t.” I moved to the table and sat down. “I’m up. What’s going on?”
There was a pause.
“I saw something yesterday,” he said. “Made me think of you.”
I almost smiled. “What was it?”
“Some sports doc on YouTube. A roundtable on mental health in athletes. There was this one woman—dark hair, serious, kind of intimidating. Reminded me of you.”
I smiled despite myself. “Was she swearing at her coworkers and drinking cold brew out of a protein shaker?”
“She looked like she could.” He chuckled. “But she was good. She said some things I’ve heard you say. About building systems that don’t crush people.”
“Sounds like a smart woman.”
“Yeah. She made me miss you.”
My throat tightened. “I never left,” I said, my unresolved feelings about my brother still there.
“I know.” Another pause. “I wanted to check in, not because I had anything big to say. Just... I don’t know. I’ve been doing the group stuff. Mindfulness. It’s not a miracle, but it helps.”
I kept my voice level. “You’ve made it this far. That’s something.”
“I wanted you to know I heard you. Back at the diner. I think about it a lot.”
I stared down at the water glass in front of me. “You said something too. That you weren’t asking me to fix anything anymore. That’s the part I think about.”
“I meant that.” He cleared his throat. “You sound tired.”
I exhaled slowly. “It’s been a long week.”
“Is it the job or the guy?”
I didn’t answer right away. “Both.”
He didn’t push. “You don’t have to talk about it. I wanted to call. We said we’d try again. I’m holding up my end.”
“You are.”
“I’ll let you go, but... call me sometime, okay? I’ll pick up.”
“I will. Hey,” I said, pausing. “Thank you for calling. It’s nice to hear from you.”
He hung up first.
I set the phone down gently and sat there for a while, staring at nothing. The call hadn’t fixed anything, but it was a step forward. A flicker of hope.
I turned when I heard footsteps behind me.
Oliver walked out slowly, rubbing a hand through his hair. His hoodie was gone—now mine—and he wore a pair of soft gray sweatpants that clung to his hips. He blinked at me, eyes still heavy with sleep.
“You steal my hoodie?” he asked, voice rough.
I lifted the sleeve and stretched it out. “You left it on the floor. I consider that more rescuing it.”
His smile was lazy, crooked in a way that almost made me forget the test results waiting for me. “Looks good on you.”
I stared at him longer than I should’ve. I didn’t want to go. I didn’t want to check his chart or call William or document anything. I wanted to sit back down, pull him toward me, and forget all of it.
But I had a job. And a choice to make.
“I have to head in,” I said, voice quieter than I meant it to be.
He stepped closer, close enough that I could feel the warmth of his body again. “I assumed.” He pushed my hair behind my ears, his blue eyes filled with sleep and warmth. “Hey, are you okay? You seem upset.”
No. “Yeah. I’m okay. “
He kissed my forehead without hesitation, lingering for a second before he sighed. “We both know you’re lying, but if you need to head out, I won’t stop it.”
“Oliver,” I said, hating how my voice broke. He was being kind, understanding. There was no malice in his tone when he should be demanding answers. “I’ll see you later?”
He smiled softly and placed his hand on my shoulder, his thumb gentle rubbing the spot where my pulse raced. “Yes, you will see me later. See, I’m going through something, and it seems I can only sleep when my girlfriend is with me.”
“Girlfriend?” I scrunched my nose, my face blushing. “I’m your girlfriend?”
“Mm, yeah, you are.”
I was his girlfriend… holy shit. I liked hearing that.
He smiled again, and I got lost in it. It wasn’t fair. Why did I have to fall for a guy on the team? Why did I meet him once I had my dream job? I couldn’t return his joy, my mind a mess, but he didn’t seem to care. “Please let me know when you’re home, okay?”
“Sure, yeah.” I shrugged, forcing a smile.
He rolled his eyes and kissed me once, then twice. “Hey, Sloane?”
“Hm? What?” I tensed, waiting for him to call me out on being weird. On lying to him. On avoiding the fat, large truth in between us that we couldn’t date publicly with our jobs.
“We’re gonna figure this out between us, okay? I don’t know a lot about the future, but I know mine is gonna be with you.”
My heart fluttered with the declaration. No one ever chose me this way. No one in my life and I wanted to hold onto that, keep it. I smiled, swallowing the ball of emotion those words caused.
“You say that with a lot of confidence.”
He winked and turned his back to me. My hungry gaze took in his muscles, his chiseled and hard-earned lines. Then he looked over his shoulder, smirking. “Because I know how I feel about you. Now go be Doctor Mercer for a bit, then come back to me.”
As if it were that fucking simple.
I arrived at the facility ten minutes before the full staff meeting and bypassed the performance suite entirely.
My badge clipped clean through the secondary entrance near diagnostics.
I didn’t want to make small talk in the hallway or answer questions about yesterday.
I needed to see the data with a frenzy. What lab results did William want to discuss?
What was Oliver’s future?