Chapter 7
Sloane Bennett
I hear the front door slam, and the sound reverberates through the house, closing me further into myself.
I sink onto the couch and curl into a ball.
How could I let him exert control over me like that?
I crawled across the damn floor.
Crawled.
I’ve never felt so much shame in my life. I finally get out from under one asshole, only to jump straight into bed with another.
I promised myself this would be my fresh start.
I’m so disappointed in myself.
Caving instantly for sex?
It may have been good, but my self-respect was never for sale.
I can’t believe I obeyed that man.
An almost stranger too.
The second my orgasm cleared, shame rushed in faster than the breath entering my lungs.
I can’t go down this path again.
I refuse to.
No man will ever control me or ruin my life again.
After a long pep talk, I finally drag myself into the shower.
I can still smell the sex on my body, and I can’t stand it. It’s another reminder of my lack of boundaries.
I’m getting dressed for the rest of the day when a knock sounds at the door.
Great.
Another visitor.
I look through the peephole and find Samantha standing outside. She’s smiling and holding an envelope.
I open the door on autopilot.
“Hi.”
“Hi, Sloane. I wanted to drop this off personally.”
She holds out the envelope, and I take it cautiously.
“What’s this?” I ask, examining it.
“It’s the first invitation to the block party and memorial service for your aunt.”
“Oh, yes. I forgot you were planning that.”
I smile, but it doesn’t reach my eyes.
“Yes. I wanted to do it sooner rather than later. Shirley deserves to be celebrated before anyone else throws a block party. She always hosted the first one of the summer.”
“I see. When are you planning it?”
Her gaze nervously drops to the invitation, and the moment grows awkward.
“It’ll be in two weeks. I hope that’s okay?”
I nod.
“Thank you for letting me know. It’s really nice of you to host it. I’m not settled enough to do it justice.”
“I’m happy to,” she assures me.
With a wave, she heads back across the cul-de-sac.
I sigh and look down at the invitation.
It really is sweet of her.
That doesn’t stop something in my stomach from twisting until it hurts.
My aunt should be here.
She should be yelling at me while I renovate and change her space. She should be cooking with too much salt and laughing while I fumble my way through meeting everyone.
I close my eyes against the pain.
I have to face the fact that she isn’t coming back.
???
The days blur together, and it hasn’t escaped my notice that Cal is nowhere to be seen.
I haven’t seen him in a week, not since my complete loss of control and the moment I kicked him out.
Now that I’ve had time to think about it, I realize kicking him out might have been a little premature after what we shared.
But in my mind, it was now or never.
I was slipping into dangerous territory with him.
I can’t help trying to see things from his point of view, though, and it’s messed up.
He’s been genuinely kind since I moved in.
Honestly, the entire neighborhood has done nothing but welcome me with open arms.
I just wasn’t ready to face any of this without my aunt.
I wasn’t supposed to be taking over her home or stepping into the life she built here.
The block party in her honor is this weekend, and I need to prepare myself to see Cal.
Let alone deal with the rest of the block.
I walk into the local hardware store and start looking around.
Boy, am I out of my league when it comes to renovating.
That’s partly why I’ve decided to start organizing before I get ahead of myself and buy a sledgehammer.
I’m here for storage totes so I can finally organize my aunt’s room.
I want to take my time going through everything carefully. There will be things I need to save and others she wouldn’t expect me to keep.
She knew how much I hated clutter.
I must look as lost as I feel because the older man behind the counter comes over and asks if I need help.
“Organizing totes?” I ask, biting my lip.
He nods and motions for me to follow him.
“Here they are, miss.”
He leaves me to it, but of course, the one I want is on the highest shelf.
Hmm.
Short-person problems.
Do I jump for it and save myself the embarrassment of asking for help again?
I quickly look around before deciding that’s exactly what I’ll do.
I jump wildly, and my fingers catch the handle.
That’s when I realize my mistake.
It isn’t one large tote.
There are four smaller ones stacked inside it that I couldn’t see.
Oh no.
It’s like watching a horror movie in slow motion as they tumble toward me.
“Ahh!”
I’m suddenly shoved out of the way and land spectacularly on my ass in the aisle.
I look up at the person who so gently threw me to the floor.
Cal’s hard eyes meet mine.
Fuck me.
“What the hell are you doing?” he thunders as he carefully places the totes on the ground.
“Well, I’m glad they got a soft landing,” I huff.
Jesus, that hurt.
“You were about to get knocked out, Sloane.”
His tone is anything but happy.
“I was fine,” I lie, trying to climb to my feet.
Thanks for the help, asshole.
His eyes are cold, and everything about his body language is off-putting.
“Sure you were.”
Cal rakes his eyes over me one more time before shaking his head.
“You’re welcome.”
He turns his back and walks away without another glance.
Well, that was mortifying.
I gather what’s left of my dignity, pay for the totes, and escape the doom-and-gloom store.
On the way home, I can’t stop thinking about how unlike himself Cal seemed.
The rest of the week passes uneventfully.
I pull my hair out while pretending to landscape, mow the lawn, and fail at even attempting to organize my aunt’s room.
All I manage to do is open the door.
The tears start immediately, so I set the totes on her bed and leave.
I’ll try again next week, I tell myself.
I don’t run into Cal again, and he makes no attempt to barge into my house and fix anything.
I even wave at him during his run when I head out for coffee one morning, but he pretends not to see me drive past.
Sleeping with the resident neighbor was clearly a mistake.
This block party is going to be a nightmare.
???
I invite Celeste over the night before because I need to talk to someone about all of this.
She waltzes inside wearing a tight green dress like we’re about to go clubbing.
This woman is something else.
She grins and holds up a bottle of wine.
“I thought you’d never invite me over!”
“Sorry. I’ve been lost in my own shit lately. Come in.”
“Oh, I get it. Don’t you know it.”
“Oh yeah? I’d much rather hear about your drama than start on mine.”
“Oh no. You’re not getting away with that.”
She plops onto my couch while I pour our wine and carry the glasses over.
“You’re going first.”
Celeste takes her glass from me and has a proper sip.
“Go on. Is it the party tomorrow?”
I swirl my wine and stare down at the red liquid.
“Partly,” I admit.
“I figured it would be hard on you to say goodbye and everything. Especially with meeting the rest of the association.”
She nods sympathetically.
I purse my lips.
“Yeah, I’m definitely not excited about it. You’ll have to help buffer me. I can’t deal with people lately.”
She waves a hand dismissively.
“I never can.”
“You love being the center of attention,” I tease.
She grins. “I didn’t say I won’t make them sweat.”
“You’re impossible.”
“And you’re stalling.”
Hmm.
How do I say this?
Maybe I should just come out with it.
I bite my lip, reluctant to admit it, but damn, I need to tell someone.
“I fucked Cal’s brains out after our last wine night.”
“What!” she exclaims. “Oh my God, Sloane!”
“I know. It ended horribly, and now he hates me. I don’t want to see him tomorrow.”
“What do you mean? Was he shit in bed?”
I laugh. “What? No. I mean, I lost my mind. After only a few times in bed, I was following his orders like a puppy.”
“A few times? A puppy?” She stares at me. “Whoa. There’s a lot to unpack there.”
I belly laugh.
“Will you shut up?”
She giggles and bumps her shoulder into mine.
“So, he was good in bed?”
I nod.
Her mouth falls open.
“If that man told me to jump, my only question would be how high.”
I drop my head into my hands.
Fuck.
I know.
He really is something.
“I know, and I did. Then I think it triggered me.”
Understanding flashes across her face.
“Your ex was controlling?”
“He was the worst. I can’t fall into that pattern again, you know?”
“Cal is a great guy, Sloane. The women on this block have been after him for years.”
“He’s really sweet, but I can sense this intense need for control radiating from him.”
“He’s definitely the intense, lonely type. He always has something going on,” Celeste quips.
“What’s your plan? And what do you mean when you say it ended badly?”
“I basically had a breakdown and kicked him out after the best orgasm of my life.”
“Hmm.”
Celeste hesitates, apparently unsure how to respond to that.
“Then I ran into him at the hardware store, and oh, he hates me.”
“No. I’m sure he’s probably just hurt.”
“He acts like I don’t exist anymore. Going from being in my business every second to giving me the cold shoulder is hard to take.”
She thinks for a moment.
“Well, I bet you’ll have to make the first move. You just went through an awful divorce, and then you kicked him out. He probably thinks you need time.”
“I do need time. I have no clue what I was thinking, getting into bed with that sex god.”
She bursts out laughing.
“Oh, I know exactly what you were thinking. He’s fine, girl.”
“He really is.”
“I didn’t even mention that the same day I kicked him out, Owen showed up and asked to take me to lunch.”
Celeste covers her mouth.
“He didn’t!”
“He did. That bastard actually came here thinking I’d talk to him, like there was anything left to discuss.”
I shake my head in disgust.
“Typical.”
“Men suck.”
“Cheers to that, sister.”
She clinks her glass against mine and downs the rest of her wine.
“Whoa there, killer.” I laugh.
She rolls her eyes and holds out the empty glass for a refill.
“We haven’t even begun talking about my stupid husband yet.”
I laugh and refill it.
“What has he done now?”
“He invited my stepson and his friend to stay with us for the summer.”
“Well, that doesn’t sound too bad.”
“My stepson hates my guts.”
“Oh no. I’m sorry. That’s rough. Do you know why?”
“Something about me being young enough to be his sister.”
She rolls her eyes.
“You are one hot stepmom.”
I look her up and down.
She grins and clinks her glass against mine.
“Well, we’ll see. It’s been a while since I’ve seen the twit.”
I choke on my wine.
“Celeste!”
She looks at me impishly.
“What? I’m really not looking forward to it,” she grumbles.
I smile. “Clearly.”
There’s a pause before I ask, “What about his friend?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I haven’t seen the kid in years. He’s been my stepson’s best friend forever.”
She waves off the question.
I watch her, and something about the situation feels off.
Deciding I have enough of my own shit to deal with, I call it a night.
“I’m exhausted, but I’ll see you tomorrow at the party.”
She gets up from the couch and pulls me into a hug.
“Yes, you will.”
She pulls away and wiggles her eyebrows.
“I look forward to watching you and Cal squirm.”
“Oh, stop it!”
I huff and push her hands away.
She flips her perfect blonde hair over one shoulder.
“Night. Sleep tight,” she sings as she disappears through the front door.
Tomorrow is going to suck.