14. Sloane
14
SLOANE
Friday afternoon, I was sitting at my desk finishing up some work when my phone vibrated with an incoming call. I got excited, thinking maybe it was Wilder, only to get the ultimate letdown when I read the name on the screen. Josh. My ex was the absolute last person I felt like talking to—even seeing his name irked me—so I let the call go to voicemail. But I was curious, so when my phone chirped with a new message, I couldn’t help myself and pressed play.
“Hey, Sloane. Long time, no talk. I couldn’t decide whether I had a better chance of you reading a text from me or answering my call. Or maybe I’m kidding myself and I have no shot at either. At least I got to hear your voice on your message.” He paused, and for a few heartbeats I thought that was it, that he’d hung up. But then he spoke again. “Anyway, I miss hearing it. I’d like to talk, if you have some time. So… yeah. Call me back. Please?”
I shook my head. What balls . Though I realized this might’ve been the first time I’d thought of Josh and only gotten angry, not sad. A few months ago, a call like that would’ve thrown my whole day off, but now, I didn’t find it too difficult to get back to work.
A few hours later, a CNN alert popped up on my phone. Most of the time, I ignored them, but this particular one snagged my attention. US Rugby League approves expansion team.
I swiped to open. Oh wow. How have I not googled this man for old photos yet? The article had two pictures of Wilder at the top. The first must’ve been from his playing days—his teammates had him on their shoulders as he held a gold trophy of some kind in the air. He had no shirt on, and his chest was so carved with muscles, it didn’t look real. I pinched the screen and zoomed in. Wow. Just wow. It took a solid minute of drooling before I panned up and studied his face. He didn’t look that much different than he did now—same smile, same sparkling eyes. It said something when those peepers weren’t the first thing to catch your attention.
The second photo was of him in a suit, looking handsome, but serious. Underneath, the article gave details about his ownership of the new team, along with two billionaire investors, and the stadium they were already in talks to secure. I hadn’t heard from Wilder since the night of the wedding, when he’d left the ball in my court to get together. I’d thought about him every day—even picked up my phone and debated texting him on more than one occasion. But in the end I always chickened out. Now, though, I had an excuse. In fact, it would be rude of me not to reach out. At least that’s what I told myself as I started to type.
Sloane: Congratulations! I just read the big news on CNN. You did it!
I’d thought he might be busy with press and stuff, but the circles on my phone began bouncing around immediately.
Wilder: Thank you. What are you doing tonight? Maybe my friend can help me celebrate…
I smiled, wishing I could, but I had Olivia tonight.
Sloane: Sorry, I can’t. My brother has a twenty-four-hour shift that started this morning so I’m making dinner for my niece at seven, followed by watching double episodes of Pretty Little Liars .
Wilder: I’m a good cook, if you need some help…
I smiled.
Sloane: I’m sure that’s how you want to celebrate getting your own professional rugby team—with a fourteen-year-old whose hobbies are rolling her eyes and giving monosyllabic responses.
Wilder: You’ll be there, right?
I felt my brows dip.
Sloane: Yes, of course.
Wilder: Then there’s nowhere I’d rather celebrate.
My heart went pitter patter. Before I could type back, another text came in.
Wilder: My brother is here, too. I think they might get along. His hobbies are rolling his eyes at me and busting my balls.
I nibbled my bottom lip, which was going to be swollen from all the gnawing the last few days. How could I say no when he’d achieved such a major accomplishment today? It was the friend ly thing to do, wasn’t it? And what could happen with two teenagers around? Nothing, of course. Not that anything would happen if we were alone, either, but…
Maybe I should bake a cake to celebrate? Cupcakes… yum.
And shoot, I needed to get my eyebrows done on the way home.
Is my apartment clean?
I looked at the time on my phone. If I left by five, I could stop at the grocery store and pick up ingredients, take the 1 train over to Libby to get my brows shaped, and still have time to clean and freshen up my makeup.
Freshen up my makeup . Yeah, it was the friend ly thing to do. I rolled my eyes at myself, but also picked up the pen from my desk and started writing a list of things I’d need. Then I added a few more quick stops I should probably make. Shoot. I better get out of here a little early.
A few minutes later, I was busy chewing on my pen, deciding if I needed anything besides under-eye concealer from Sephora—I hadn’t slept so well last night—when my phone buzzed.
Wilder: You still there?
Oh my God . I’d gotten so engrossed in planning all the crap I needed to do that I’d forgotten the most important thing: the invitation. I shook my head.
Sloane: Dinner at 7?
The little dots bounced around.
Wilder: We’ll be there. Thanks for the invite, even if I did have to invite myself, friend.
“Why is this guy coming over again?”
I opened the oven door and slipped two cupcake pans inside. “I told you, he’s celebrating that he gets to start a rugby team here.”
“Who plays rugby ?” Olivia snarled.
“It’s a very popular sport in Europe. There’s a professional league here, too. It’s just not as popular as football or soccer. But Grandpa watches it. He actually went to a game with Wilder.”
“Wilder.” Olivia scoffed. “Stupid name.”
“Can you please be civil when they’re here?”
“Why? Is this guy your boyfriend or something?”
“No. He’s just… a friend.”
The buzzer rang, and a flurry of butterflies flapped their little wings in my belly. I frowned down at my stomach. Did you not just hear me say he’s a friend ? I shook my head and grabbed a bottle of wine out of the fridge. “Can you press the button to let them in, Olivia, please?”
She mumbled something, but did it. I opened the wine to let it breathe and went to the door, pointing my finger at Olivia. “Be nice to Lucas.”
Her response was a typical eye roll.
Wilder came up the stairs first, with his brother behind. They both held bags in their arms. Wilder’s mouth curved to a flirtatious grin when he saw me. “Hey.”
I smiled. “Congratulations, Mr. Team Owner.”
He shifted the bags to one arm and kissed my forehead. “Hello, gorgeous.”
Lucas rolled his eyes.
I stepped aside for Wilder to enter and smiled at his mini-me. “Hi, Lucas.” Right this way, to the other half of the I-hate-everything matching set.
He lifted his chin. “Whassup.”
Olivia was busy texting on her phone and didn’t bother to look up as they entered. I cleared my throat. “Olivia, this is Wilder and Lucas. Guys, this is my niece, Olivia.”
She managed to hold back an eye roll, but the bored look on her face remained as she lifted her nose from her cell. Though it changed when her eyes found Wilder. She blinked a few times with an open jaw.
Yeah, tell me about it, girl.
She looked away, attempting to cover for her face, but she got hit with a second punch when she saw Lucas. Olivia had her mother’s nice, year-round-tanned skin, but I could’ve sworn I saw a pink blush dust up on her cheeks.
“Olivia is in ninth grade,” I said.
Wilder nodded to his brother. “Lucas, too.”
“Oh, I thought he was a year older.”
“He’s got an early birthday, so he’s one of the oldest in his class.”
Lucas straightened his spine. “And I’m the tallest.”
Wilder chuckled. “Yes, that you are.”
There were a few awkward seconds as the two teens looked anywhere but at each other. Wilder raised the bag in his hand. “I didn’t know what you were making, so I got red and white wine.” He gestured to his brother. “And that bag has dessert. One is sugar free.”
“Thank you.” I gave Olivia a nudge. “Why don’t you put the desserts away and see if Lucas wants a soda or some water or something?” I took the other bag from Wilder. “Thank you for this. I already opened a bottle of cab. Or would you rather me open what you brought?”
“Whatever you have is fine.”
Lucas walked over to the art I had hanging on the wall. “Where’d you get this?”
I smiled and looked at Olivia. “My super-talented niece painted it.”
Lucas’s eyes widened. “Really? You’re into manga?”
She shrugged. “I drew that a few years ago when I was into Shojo, but I’m more into Josei now.”
“Josei’s cool. I spray-paint Seinen.”
“You used to spray-paint,” Wilder said. “You’re not going to destroy public property anymore, right ?”
Lucas rolled his eyes.
“There’s a comic book store around the corner,” Olivia said. “They just had a big Seinen mural painted. You want to go see it?”
“Hell yeah.”
Olivia looked to me.
“It’s fine with me, if it’s okay with Wilder.”
Wilder shrugged. “Go for it.”
I wagged a finger at my niece. “Just be back in twenty minutes. We’re going to eat soon.”
“Alright.”
The two of them rushed out the door, and I shook my head. “Well, that was a quick bonding moment.”
“He’s super into that Japanese art stuff. A little too into it. He was grounded for a month after he spray-painted the side of an abandoned building in London. He and his buddies used it as their canvas.”
“Oh, that’s not good.”
“I would never let him hear me say it, but the art was pretty kick-ass. It was an improvement to the crumbling old building. Obviously he shouldn’t have done it, though.”
I nodded. “You want some wine?”
“Definitely.”
I took down two glasses and poured while Wilder looked around. “Your place is nice. It fits you.”
I passed him a glass. “I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.”
He looked over at a small crystal chandelier I’d hung in the kitchen. “It’s girly, but not over the top. Sophisticated, but curious. Makes me want to look around a little more.”
I chuckled and leaned my hip against the counter, sipping my wine. “So is Lucas why you aren’t out celebrating the big announcement today?”
Wilder’s brows pulled together. “I am celebrating.”
“I meant celebrating somewhere good.”
“This is exactly where I want to be.”
“You just became the owner of a professional team you’ve worked two years to obtain, and you want to be at a fourth-floor walk-up?”
“I guess I misspoke. If I had my choice, we’d be out celebrating somewhere you didn’t have to cook. But I’m with exactly who I want to be with.”
I tried to ignore the warmth that spread through my chest, which had nothing to do with the wine in my hand. “So what happens next with the team?”
“A lot.” Wilder took a deep breath. “And fast. I’m flying to Spain tomorrow morning and Sweden the next day. We’ve been in negotiations with a few players, and first priority is getting them signed.”
“That sounds exciting. I’ve never left the United States.”
“Really?”
I nodded. “The next wedding is in London. I can’t wait.”
“I’m going to be busy for the next few weeks. But why don’t you come in a few days early so I can show you around?”
“That’s sweet of you to offer. Can I… think about it?”
Wilder’s eyes dropped to my lips. “Full disclosure. I’m not being sweet. I want to spend time with you.”
I felt my face grow warm, so I cooled myself with a sip of wine. “Did you see the photos from the wedding last weekend?”
He shook his head. “I’ve been busy.”
I smiled. “There’s one of you that’s hysterical. Let me grab my laptop. It’s in my bedroom. Be right back.”
“You sure you don’t want help carrying it? I could join you?”
I chuckled. “Make yourself comfortable. Actually, not too comfortable.”
I went down the hall to my bedroom. When I came back, Wilder was seated on one of the stools that was usually tucked under the island counter. He pointed his eyes to a business card sitting on top. “You work on Saturdays, too?”
I peered over to see what he was talking about. It was an appointment card for Fifth Avenue Bridal at 9 a.m. tomorrow. “Oh, that.” I shook my head. “No. That’s personal, not magazine-related. I made an appointment to sell my wedding dress.”
“ Huh . Guess I never thought about what you do with the stuff if the wedding doesn’t happen.”
“I should have gotten rid of it by now. I’m never going to wear it. But I’m pretty attached to it. I bought it almost a decade ago.”
“I thought you were only dating the guy a few years?”
I smiled. “I was. I bought it before we met. I saw it in a magazine. Bride magazine, oddly enough. It was long before I even worked there. I’d had this picture in my head of what my wedding would look like since I was a little kid, dress and all. One day I was flipping through a magazine at the doctor’s office, and there it was—my dream dress. So I figured out who had it in stock and went to see it in person. I was only seventeen. I hadn’t even planned on trying it on. But I wound up cashing in the savings bonds I’d had since I was born and buying it.”
Wilder looked a little scared, which made me laugh. I pointed to his face. “I really wish we’d gone on a date, so I could’ve told you that story at dinner. You look terrified. I bet you would have bolted before dessert.” I shrugged. “Anyway, as long as I’m letting my crazy out, I might as well let it all hang out. The appointment tomorrow is my third one. I’ve tried to sell it twice before.”
“What happened?”
“Well, the first time I made it to the front door, but I couldn’t bring myself to go in. The second time, I went in and spoke to one of the women who worked there. She took the dress out of the bag to look at it and a woman who was shopping walked over and asked if it was available for sale—she wanted to try it on. I pretended to get a call and rushed out. I couldn’t part with it.”
“What’s the attachment? The dress, the dream, or the douchebag?”
That made me smile. “You’re asking a really good question. I’m over the douchebag, but I’m not sure if it’s giving up the dress or my dreams that upsets me more. Maybe it’s a little bit of both?”
“You can dream new dreams. Ones that are bigger and better.”
I sighed and nodded. “Or maybe it’s time I live in the land of reality. But let’s not talk about my issues. I want to hear more about your team.”
Wilder’s eyes lit up as he spoke about all of his plans and ideas. He rambled for a solid twenty minutes before coming to a lull. “Sorry.” He smiled. “I was babbling. You’re probably dying to eat just so I’ll shut up for a few minutes.”
“Not at all. I find you inspiring. It’s a reminder that I used to have goals of my own that didn’t link my happiness with my love life.”
“Like what?”
“I wanted to be an author, write books. I used to love my job, but I went to school for journalism and creative writing.”
“What kind of books would you write?”
“Honestly, probably romance. It’s all I read. Well, that and…” I looked over at a stack of books on the kitchen shelf. “Self-help books.”
“You were reading one of those the night I came to your office. Do they work?”
“Sometimes when I’m reading them, I get invigorated by the ideas and outlook they have. It’s sort of like getting a pep talk from the coach before a game.”
“I can relate to that.”
I nodded. “Except after it’s over, you probably kept the excitement you felt by playing in the game. An hour or two after I shut the book, I forget everything I just read.”
“So play the game after the pep talk,” he suggested. “Start writing the book you always wanted to write.”
“I guess… Maybe.”
“I should be your coach, encourage you to follow your dreams. But selfishly, I also want to have a reason to see you every month, so you can’t quit your current job anytime soon.”
The front door burst open. Lucas and Olivia were laughing and talking like the best of friends. They offered us a chin lift and disappeared into another room.
I pointed. “Who were those happy children?”
Wilder shrugged. “Fuck if I know.”
“I won my sixth-grade spelling bee,” Lucas said. “Wilder has a tattoo on his ass. And Wilder is so afraid of clowns, he once pissed himself at the circus.”
“I did not piss myself. I spilled my drink.”
Lucas cracked up. “Because you jumped out of your seat when that clown came near you. That counts as pissing yourself.”
Wilder grumbled and shook his head. “I thought the truths and lies we told playing this game were supposed to be about ourselves.”
Lucas smirked. God, he really looked like his older brother. I glanced over at Olivia, who was currently gazing at the boy much the way I looked at Wilder. I wasn’t the only one with a little crush.
Lucas pointed to me. “You go first. Which is the lie, Sloane?”
“I’m going to say… Wilder has a tattoo on his ass is the lie.”
Lucas pointed to Olivia. She smirked. “He definitely looks like he could have an ass tattoo. I’m going with Lucas didn’t win the spelling bee.”
Wilder grumbled and gestured across the table at Olivia. “I’ll vote with her.”
My eyes widened. “You have an ass tattoo?”
“Show it to ’em.” Lucas nudged his brother with his elbow. “Come on, show it to ’em.”
“I think I’ll pass on taking down my pants in front of a fourteen-year-old girl. Thanks, Lucas. People get arrested for that.”
I couldn’t stop laughing. This board game had turned out to be more fun than I’d thought, even if I was the only one whose game piece was still stuck at start. It was sort of like two truths and a lie, except when you guessed correctly, you moved your piece forward a few spaces.
“It’s your turn, Aunt Sloane.”
“Oh gosh. I’m going to sound boring after an ass tattoo.” I looked over at Wilder. “You better tell me what it is later.”
He winked. “I’ll show you.”
I wasn’t sure how many hours we played, but I couldn’t remember the last time I’d laughed so hard for so long. My face actually hurt a little. Eventually Wilder looked at his watch. “It’s almost midnight. We should probably get going. We have an early flight in the morning.”
I grinned. “Need to get home and put on your mud mask, huh?”
Wilder closed his eyes and dropped his head while the teenagers enjoyed my teasing. Lucas had revealed a lot of dirt on his brother tonight, most of which involved girly habits, like using mud masks, taking baths with candles, and watching the Real Housewives shows. “I’m going to kick your ass, kid,” he growled. But it was all in good fun.
Lucas and Olivia said goodbye after exchanging phone numbers, and Olivia gave him one of her recent drawings. She stayed behind while I walked the guys downstairs and out front. Lucas waved goodbye and jogged to the car, giving Wilder and me a minute alone.
“He’s a good wingman,” I noted. “Did you train him to be adorable and then let you end your evening with privacy?”
“Adorable? He told you I listen to Taylor Swift while working out and have an ass tattoo.”
I laughed. “Oh my God. What is the ass tattoo?”
“I’m not telling you. Gotta keep the mystery alive.”
A light breeze blew, catching a piece of my hair and pushing it across my face. Wilder fixed it. It was such a simple thing, but it took the moment from laughing to more serious.
“I had a really good time tonight,” he said.
“So did I.”
“I hope you’ll come to London early.”
I wanted to get on the plane and go, though when he looked at me like he was right now, it scared the crap out of me. It wouldn’t be hard to fall for Wilder Hayes, that’s for sure. And maybe a little piece of me was already starting to. But I needed to be smart. “I’ll try.”
He kissed my forehead. “Thank you for having us.”
My chest felt hollow as I watched him walk to the car. When he got to the door, he looked back and waved again before I went inside.
Olivia was waiting in the kitchen when I got back. “Oh my God. Did you see his eyes?”
“Wilder’s?”
She looked at me like I was nuts. “ No! Lucas’s. When Mom was alive, we went to Turks and Caicos, and I remember looking down from the plane as we landed. His eyes are the same color as the water there. They’re not really blue or green, but blue-green.”
I smiled. “Yeah, Wilder’s are the same.”
“And he likes Josei and Seinen. I gave him one of my Josei drawings, and he’s going to spray-paint me a Seinen version of it and mail it to me. Can you make sure he knows I live on the second floor? I forgot to give him my apartment number.”
“I think it’ll get to you if he uses mine or even just the house number.”
“He lives in London, and his mom died, too.”
“Yeah, I know,” I told her.
Olivia rarely mentioned her mother, so I found it pretty amazing that she’d apparently already had a conversation about her with a boy she’d just met. But it was good for her to talk about it.
For the next half hour, she rambled on about things Lucas had told her, things they’d talked about. It was clear she had a crush. There was just something irresistible about those brothers. And it was becoming a challenge to fight it already… with six months left of my moratorium.