23. Sloane
SLOANE
It’s ridiculous to wake up missing the warmth of a body I’ve only slept beside for a handful of nights.
Jensen wanted me to stay with him after my road-trip-friends-with-benefits visit to his bed.
He claimed Cody wouldn’t notice (or care) since it was doubtful country music’s hottest star would emerge from his room before noon.
But Cody was just an excuse. The part I couldn’t deny—at least to myself—was knowing that this thing between us was becoming too real and important to pretend otherwise.
Breaking a dry spell in the woods out of convenience?
I could file that away under “wild adventure fling” and move on with my life.
But these growing feelings for Jensen terrify me in ways I’m not ready to examine.
So I let him give me two more orgasms, but drew the line at allowing him to hold me while I slept. Totally rational, right?
My phone vibrates on the nightstand just as I’m swinging my legs over the side of the mattress. It’s a FaceTime request from Sadie, and I settle back against the fluffy pillows before answering.
Two faces fill the screen. Sadie’s golden hair is piled in a messy bun, and Piper sits beside her, practically glowing even though she insists she’s not a morning person. I hear a single dog bark and recognize the background as the porch at Sadie and Ian’s house.
“Morning, wilderness warrior,” Piper says, holding up her mug in a spirited toast.
I’ve talked to everyone in the book club at least once since I got back into cell service.
They’re all furious on my behalf about Kristen leaving early and taking the ATV shortcut instead of hiking in, as her social media claimed.
And while they’ve been supportive of me doing the initial trek, they’ve been less than enthusiastic about my decision to trail her to Tahoe.
I’ve also kept the details about Jensen vague, saying that having him along turned out to be convenient more than anything else.
I don’t think any of them believe me. But it’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.
“How are you feeling?” Sadie asks, her eyes searching my face through the screen.
Like someone gave me two orgasms before I fell asleep last night, but I definitely don’t say that out loud.
“Good,” I tell them instead. “The bed in the rental is a big improvement from trail accommodations, so I’m feeling pretty well rested.”
Piper raises a brow, like she’s not entirely picking up what I’m laying down, but she doesn’t push.
“You know the funny thing?” I continue, pulling my knees up and wrapping my free arm around them.
“I was so worried about what Kristen would think of me when I started this whole thing. How she would react to some random fan showing up on her doorstep in the middle of her writing retreat. But now...” I trail off, trying to find the right words.
“Maybe some books are better left on the shelf.”
“You don’t have to go see her today,” Sadie says.
“It’s my bucket list challenge. How can I not see it through when the rest of you did?”
“It’s not your fault the chick bailed on her own cabin,” Piper offers, her voice firm. “That says more about her than it does about you. You did what you set out to do. You hiked into the wilderness and proved you’re a badass. That’s huge, even though the rest of us already knew it.”
“It doesn’t feel huge,” I admit, and the truth of that sits under my skin like an itch I can’t quite reach. “Or like it means anything. Not yet. The rest of your challenges changed your lives in meaningful ways. And I’m…” I pause, swallowing past the tightness in my throat.
“You’re this close to kicking cancer’s ass.” Piper holds up her thumb and pointer finger, barely a centimeter apart. “That’s meaningful in a way none of the rest of us came close to.”
“That’s why this is so important to me,” I say with a sigh. “Because it’s me doing something that has nothing to do with a stupid disease. Something that’s just mine. Something I chose because I wanted it, not because I was fighting for my life.”
“Oh, Sloane.” Sadie’s voice is gentle like a butterfly kiss. It makes my eyes sting. “You’ve already done something incredible. You didn’t let cancer define this trip. You made it about adventure and courage and going after what you wanted.”
“Even if what—or who—I wanted to be a part of it turned out to be a big disappointment,” I say with a weak laugh.
“She doesn’t matter,” Sadie says adamantly. “And neither does some specific end point you started with. You’ve seen all of us through our bucket list journeys. You know none of them turned out the way we thought.”
“They turned out better,” Piper adds.
“The point of the challenge,” Sadie continues, “Isn’t the destination. It’s who you become on the way there.”
I nod, not trusting my voice, and Piper’s grin returns, a little sly around the edges.
“So,” she says, drawing out the word, “speaking of the journey… Are you bringing a hot country crooner back to Skylark with you?”
“No,” I choke out and nearly drop the phone, glancing toward the closed door of the bedroom like Jensen and Cody are standing on the other side listening. “Of course not.”
“That was a very fast no,” Sadie observes. “Suspiciously fast.”
“There’s nothing suspicious about it. His life is in Nashville. Mine is in Colorado. This was just—” I wave my hand vaguely, “—a casual wilderness thing.”
“Uh-huh.” Piper doesn’t look convinced. “So casual that he tracked you across multiple states and then followed you into bear country. Does that mean nothing?”
“It means he’s persistent and possibly unhinged.”
“Romantically unhinged,” Piper agrees. “My favorite.”
I roll my eyes, but an uncomfortable ache twists in my stomach because, the truth is, I can’t imagine going back to my life without him.
Now who’s unhinged? We’ve known each other for a week—if you count our time in Nashville and now.
Because all those months in between don’t count, right?
Admittedly, I spent a good part of them wondering what he was doing, whether he ever thought about me.
If those two nights meant anything to him.
Now I know they did. He couldn’t forget me any more than I could forget him. But that doesn’t change the ending I’ve already written in my head.
“I should go,” I say, forcing brightness into my voice, and a bigger, faker smile onto my face. “I need to shower before I face Kristen.”
“You’ve got this,” Sadie tells me. “And we’re here if you need us.”
“Love you guys.”
“Love you more,” Piper says, and then the screen goes dark.
I sit there for a moment, staring at the phone in my lap. What would I be doing right now if I were a romance novel heroine? Probably having some kind of emotional revelation, a moment of clarity where everything suddenly makes sense.
Instead I just feel uncertain and a little bit scared, and way too attached to a man I’m supposed to be letting go of.
Leaving my phone on the nightstand, I shower and get dressed, grateful to past me for starting a load of laundry when we got here yesterday.
I’m halfway down the stairs when Jensen looks up and sees me, and the smile that breaks across his face is a sledgehammer to my heart.
He looks so genuinely happy, like my appearance is the best part of his morning, and I have to grip the railing to steady myself before I melt into a puddle of goo on the landing.
“Good morning.” That deep, rumbly voice wraps around me like a warm blanket.
“Morning.”
Movement in my peripheral vision draws my attention, and I turn to see Cody emerging from his room on the main floor, wearing nothing but boxer briefs.
He’s objectively attractive, all lean muscle and strategically placed tattoos, with the kind of raw sex appeal that likely sells records before he opens his mouth.
It does absolutely nothing for me.
“Put some clothes on,” Jensen says, his jaw tightening.
Cody grins and stretches, completely unrepentant. “Don’t get your panties in a twist, old man. Sloane ain’t complaining.” He flexes a little, clearly enjoying himself. “Are you complaining, Sloane?”
I roll my eyes. “I’ve seen better.”
Jensen makes a sound that might be a laugh quickly cloaked in a cough, and Cody clutches his chest in mock devastation.
“Harsh,” he says. “That’s hot.”
“Get dressed or no donuts,” Jensen tells him, holding up a bakery bag I hadn’t noticed.
Cody’s eyes light up, and he sounds more like a twelve-year-old kid than a country music heartbreaker. “Did you get jelly-filled?”
“You’ll never find out if you keep standing there.”
“Did you know,” Cody asks me as he backs away, “that his official nickname in Nashville is Captain Buzzkill? It’s true. Ask anyone.”
“I didn’t know that,” I say, fighting a smile.
He disappears down the hallway, and a moment later, I hear a door close.
Jensen shakes his head, but there’s fondness underneath the exasperation. “He’s a lot.”
“He’s sweet.”
“He’s a menace.” He sets the bakery bag on the counter. “Coffee?”
“Please.”
He pours a cup as I take a seat at one of the stools tucked under the kitchen island, and when he hands it to me, our fingers brush.
The contact sends electricity skittering up my arm, and before I can say anything, he moves around the edge of the counter and kisses me.
An unhurried good morning kiss, and it feels so natural that my breath catches.
“You were up and out of here early,” I say when he pulls back.
“Had to leave to keep myself from knocking on your bedroom door.”
I take a sip of coffee to hide my reaction. “I would have thought you’d gotten your fill last night.”
Those gray eyes flame with heat and tenderness and something deeper that I’m too flustered to name. “I’m not sure that’s possible,” he says quietly.
I open my mouth to answer, but all that comes out is a befuddled squeak.
He grins, then leans against the counter. “You’re going to see Kristen this morning?”
“That’s the plan.”
“Do you want backup? I could come with you, wait in the car.”
I do want that. I want it so much it scares me. The comfort of knowing he’d be there and not having to face this part of the journey alone. But that’s why I need to say no.
“It’s something I have to do on my own,” I tell him. “This whole trip is supposed to be about proving I can handle things by myself. If I bring reinforcements to the final boss battle, it kind of defeats the purpose.”
He nods slowly, and I can see him accepting my decision even if he doesn’t love it. “I’ll be here when you get back.”
The words shouldn’t mean as much as they do. I shouldn’t let myself start relying on him. But I can’t help myself.
“Thank you,” I say, and I mean it for more than just today.
He reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering against my cheek. “Go get your closure, Sunshine. Then come back to me.”
I don’t let myself think about how much I want that to mean something more than it does.
I just nod, finish my coffee, and go upstairs to get ready to face the woman who was supposed to change my life.
Even though I’m starting to suspect that the real change has been happening somewhere else entirely.