Chapter 19
Sloan
“Mr. Alexander, could you cross your hands in front of…ahem…your…uh, your zipper, please? Feet a little wider?” The photographer blushes as she asks me to correct my stance for the photo.
The record label wants a new round of marketing pictures as we head to the midwest for the next segment of the tour.
I follow her instructions and she snaps away, checking the screen every couple of clicks like she needs a break from looking at me.
We’re doing individual shots today and we all hate these. Everyone else mills around talking shit while one of us is singled out with the camera and right now, it’s my turn.
“Okay, um, shirt off.”
I strip my shirt over my head and hear her sharp intake of breath.
To be fair, she did it to Brett and Ryan, too.
The only reason she didn’t do it to Noah was because he never takes his shirt off.
I can only assume this is her first big gig because she’s still got stars in her eyes at seeing our physiques.
Brett calls from the side of the room wearing a wide grin, “Put your dog tags between your teeth and bite down, you sexy bastard.”
I roll my eyes. “I will not,” I rasp. I’m supposed to still be choosing my words wisely and not talking much, but I decide this is worth it.
The guys have all been even more obnoxious with the sex jokes now that they know jokes about chicks, dicks, and multiple partners are all on the table.
They aren’t being vicious. It’s just their way of letting me know we’re good.
“Actually, that might be a good shot,” the photographer says, shyly. “Can you wrap your left arm across your stomach and place your right hand on your left shoulder? Dog tags between your teeth and cock your head to the side?”
“Brett, you’re a dead man,” I grumble as I do as the woman asks just to get this over with faster. At least I don’t have to fake the look of fury on my face.
She takes a few more shots, walking closer, then backing up again. Turning the camera sideways, flash on, flash off. Finally, after an eternity she calls a wrap and I slip my t-shirt back over my head.
“Well, that was not my favorite,” I whisper as we file out of the studio.
“Do you guys remember our first shoot with the girls? Ohmygod, I thought Noah was going to shit a brick when Sienna touched him.” Ryan laughs.
“Oh, that was so much fun to watch,” Brett chimes in, but Noah’s ready to retaliate.
“More fun than watching you fuck shit up with Bri when we had to do the shoot on the cliffs in Ireland? I’ve never seen someone get a colder shoulder than you did that day. Those pictures still make me laugh. She was ready to tear your fucking head off.”
I can’t help my grin. “I think she actually said we should photoshop him in to make it look like we’d pushed him off the cliff.”
“Fucking photo shoots,” Brett sighs.
“Are we done for the day?” I ask my bandmates.
“Why? You got somewhere to be?” Brett asks, nudging me in the arm with his elbow like a middle schooler.
“The middle of a Jen and Luke sandwich perhaps?” He keeps rambling like he can’t stop his mouth from moving.
“I mean, they say it’s not gay if it’s a three-way.
” He pauses, looking contemplative. “Actually, I guess in your case it is since you’re into that. ”
Finally, Ryan slaps Brett in the back of the head. “Are you done?”
“Uh, yeah. I think so.”
“The fuck is wrong with you today?” I rasp to Brett, laughing as we enter the parking deck from the high-rise that houses the photography studio.
Brett tucks his hands in his pockets. “I don’t know. I think I need more sleep.”
I eye him warily. We’re all close, but we naturally pair off since there are four of us.
Brett was always down for the wild shit with me while Ryan and Noah have always been reserved and responsible.
For a while I felt like I knew Brett the best, but Bri has taken over that role and Ryan is who’d I’d call in a pinch these days.
“Ryan and I actually have to head downtown for that interview with the radio station,” Noah finally says, answering my question five minutes after I asked it, and that seems to jar Brett’s memory.
“Oh yeah, I’m watching Riddik while Bri spends the afternoon floating in the pool with Sienna and Emma.
” It’s his tone with this statement that tells me where his rambling came from.
Adjusting to parenthood is hard and I think Brett feels like I’m still living down and dirty with threesomes while he’s on dad-duty.
“You’re welcome to come, Sloany. I’m sure Jen’s already been given the invite.
” Brett pauses before he shrugs, adding, “You could, uh, invite Luke.” He holds his hands up quickly.
“I’m just saying you could have some safe neutral ground to talk shit out…
because…you know, him showing up in New York was kind of a big deal and you haven’t said much about it. ”
“I haven’t said much of anything because this guy,” I throw my thumb at Noah, “said I couldn’t talk.”
“You know what he means, Sloan,” Ryan chimes in diplomatically.
I roll my eyes.
“Yeah, maybe I’ll take you up on your offer,” I say, still sounding like I’m recovering from strep, but thankfully without the pain after three days of antibiotics. “I’ll let you know.”
Luke.
What the fuck am I going to do about Luke?
I didn’t go after him in New York because I wanted to hurt him like he hurt me, but at night, left alone with my thoughts, I picture his limp body in the dirt all over again, and I could implode with the need to feel his heart beating against my chest…
especially now that he’s finally admitted his feelings for me.
Finally knowing I wasn’t imagining things all those years ago changes our course.
Against my better judgment, I saved his number in my phone after he called to tell me about Hailey’s funeral. Deciding the guys are right and this needs to progress or end once and for all, I bite the proverbial bullet.
Sloan 2:48pm
Can we talk?
Luke 2:53pm
How are you feeling? You’re not supposed to be talking.
Sloan: 2:54pm
I feel fine but I’d feel better if we hash our shit out. I promise to whisper.
Luke 3:07pm
Pick you up in an hour?
Sloan 3:08pm
What took you so long to answer? If you don’t want to do this, then we won’t.
Luke: 3:08pn
I needed to make a call. We’re doing this. I’ll pick you up in an hour.
His 4Runner is in my driveway an hour later when I get home from a couple errands I needed to run after the photoshoot. He’s leaning against the driver’s side door and fuck me, he’s in his BDUs which means he must have had to do field training today instead of hospital shit.
My heart is racing as I approach my house slowly, taking a minute to drink him in before he sees my truck. Christ, I’d forgotten how much I love that uniform. How much I love seeing him in that uniform.
The sound of my garage door opening startles him and he finally looks up from his phone to see me pulling in. He has his hat on and his sunglasses are blocking his expression from me.
I pull my GMC 2500 into the garage and motion for Luke to follow me inside. We don’t need photographers getting wind of whatever this is and driving by my house all hours of the day and night.
He shoves off his SUV, his strides more purposeful and confident today. I think it’s the uniform.
“Where should we start?” I whisper, dropping my keys in the bowl on the counter and turning to face him.
“I’m not sure, but you and I both know we can’t leave it like this. I’m going crazy. I can’t live down the road from you for the next few years and pretend like you never existed.”
My chest pinches with his admission as I lean against the doorframe in my small kitchen.
“Is that what you’ve been doing all this time? Pretending I don’t exist?” This would be so much better if I didn’t sound like a fucking Gremlin right now.
He forces a humorless laugh. “I wish. Kind of hard to do when your face and music are everywhere.” He releases an exhale, relaxing a fraction. I find myself doing the same, just because he’s here.
I can see the way he struggles as he offers the compliment.
I feel fortunate to not have ever wrestled with my sexual preferences.
They are what they are. My partners are always consensual, we’re always safe, and it’s always mutually beneficial.
Just never seemed like it needed to be discussed beyond that in my mind.
I can’t imagine feeling so trapped in my own body and mindset that I never explored my desires.
“You should probably do another salt water rinse. Even your whisper is starting to sound hoarse again.” Luke moves around my kitchen, opening cabinets until he finds what he needs and I watch in silence.
“Where do we go from here?” I ask as I take the glass from him without a fight and tip my head back, gargling the water before spitting in the sink.
He huffs a humorless laugh while his eyes are glued to my mouth. “That shouldn’t be hot.”
“It’s good to know you think it is.” I tread carefully, knowing he’ll spook easily.
“Maybe we should…you know, hang out? Talk?” He drops his voice so low I almost miss the next part. “I just don’t want to fight anymore.”
I fold my arms across my chest, watching his eyes follow the movement as my brows arch to my hairline. “Are you asking me on a date?” I need to reign in the sarcasm and surprise, but fuck, there’s no road map for this.
“Of course not. You’re with Jennifer,” he says immediately.
I pin him with a glare. “You and I both know she’s not a limiting factor.”
Squeezing his eyes shut, scrunching his nose, and scrubbing a hand over his face, still at war with himself, he groans. “If I was asking you on a date, would you go?” he asks, nervously wringing his hat in his hands, unable to look at me.
Fuck if it isn’t turning me on.
“What’d you have in mind?” I push off the door frame, stepping closer.
“I, uh, reserved the range right after you texted me. If you’re interested, we could go there?”
At one time, I was an expert-level shooter but it’s been a while since I’ve shot anything more than my load.
I can’t get on-base anymore and in order to use the range close to the house, I’d have to rent the entire thing to keep the public out so I could concentrate without an audience.
But I love shooting and it isn’t lost on me that he remembers.
“You want the chance to finally beat me, don’t you?” I tease. Luke doesn’t answer in jest.
“I want the chance to fix this.”
My eyes snap to his and the ice around my heart melts a little more.
Grant’s gone. Hailey’s gone. Why am I holding on to this bitterness?
I miss this part of myself. Hell, now that he’s returned, I’m starting to realize I’ve missed him.
Jen’s more than willing to entertain my desires and Luke…
well, Luke’s here...and that makes it feel like he’s trying.
I nod. “Let me change.”
Looks like he’ll be getting a third chance to stab me in the heart after all.
“Grab your discharge papers if you have them. I can get you on base, but it’ll help if you have your papers.”
“You haven’t hung out with many famous people, have you?” I laugh but no sound comes out. I know I’ll have no trouble getting on base whether I’ve got papers or not.
“What about Jennifer?” he asks. “I mean, do we need to invite her or tell her we’re going?”
“Jen knows everything. I told her our story. All of it. She wants us to figure this out.”
He nods, a look of relief washing over his features.
I’m already in jeans and a t-shirt but the range is dirty, so I run upstairs to slip into some older, worn jeans, and an army green tank top.
The line between my pecs is visible at the top of it and it does nothing to conceal my muscular shoulders and arms, or the tattoo I have in honor of Grant. I grab a hat and head back downstairs.
Luke chews on his bottom lip and refuses to look me in the eye. “You trying to sabotage my concentration so I don’t smoke your ass, Alexander?”
Holy fucking shit. He’s trying to flirt. And it’s adorable.
I can’t help my smirk and I push my voice to come out as normally as possible. “I don’t think smoking it is what you want to do with my ass, Lucky.”
Color paints his neck and cheeks and before I can overthink it, I grab his neck and pull him to me, the rough fabric of his uniform grazing the front of my shoulders where my tank top doesn’t cover them.
He’s hard everywhere. Jen is soft where Luke is unyielding.
I’m always cautious of my grip on Jen, afraid to leave bruises or god forbid, actually hurt her, but Luke is firm under my hands.
Able to take the punishing force I’m dying to unleash.
I groan against his mouth at the thought.
I hadn’t even realized I’d started working at the buttons on his uniform until I feel his hands over mine and he pulls away from my touch, breathing hard.
Damn it.
“I’m trying to get there, Sloan, I swear. I just need to go slow. I still carry a lot of guilt. And shame.”
The more I give in to this, the harder it’s becoming to stop once I get started, but I hear him.
“Yeah, okay,” I pant, picking up his hands and placing them on my stomach underneath my shirt. “Just, touch me somewhere. Anywhere. Just for a minute. I had the dream again and I need to feel you.”
I feel his fingertips tremble as they trace the ridges of my abs, exploring cautiously. “What dream?”
“The day you got shot.”
“I’m okay, Sloan. Thanks to you.” Leaning down, his lips place a chaste, tentative kiss on my neck like he isn’t sure he’s doing it right, and then he inhales deeply. “You smell the same.”
“I want to know if you taste the same,” I say breathlessly, knowing he knows I’m not talking about his mouth.
“How would you know? You’ve never tasted me…there.” He drags his tongue along my neck, gaining confidence and causing my fingers to flex in the waistband of his pants. I yank him hard against myself and smile when he grunts as his hips slam into mine.
“That’s my point. I’ll make sure I do this time.”