Chapter Sixteen
Sloane was holding Kendall up by the waist.
Just a moment ago, the firefighter had staggered out of the Jeep, and nearly kissed the ground. Meanwhile, Reese lagged just a few paces behind, her legs crisscrossing like a newborn fawn.
They had both had a few too many Moscow mules.
Sloane observed the binge drinking had started with that phone call Kendall had slipped out of the bar to take.
When she got back, things had quickly gone downhill from there.
Kendall kept ordering drinks, refusing to look Sloane in the eye, and Reese seemed all too happy to go along with it.
Too happy, in fact.
By the end of the night, the two friends had somehow ended up in a tequila shot competition, and Sloane had to play referee.
When she finally blew the whistle announcing home time, she was met with boos and chants of ‘You suck!’.
It had taken a lot of convincing to get the two to follow Sloane to the Jeep like good little ducklings.
“We’re nearly there,” Sloane said, unlocking the front door with one hand while holding up a very drunk Kendall with the other. “Just having a hard time getting it unlocked. Why is it jammed?”
“You smell goooood,” Kendall said, sticking her nose in Sloane’s neck and taking a big whiff. “Like chocolate fondant… and lavender and, oh wait...” She sniffed again, her cold nose brushing right against Sloane’s skin. “Oranges.”
“Well, you smell like tequila,” Sloane said, finally succeeding with the lock.
The door flew open at the same time Kendall freed herself from Sloane’s grip and ran straight for a bedroom. The wrong bedroom.
“Yours is the other one, Kendall!” Sloane called after her, watching as Kendall stripped off her clothes like some defiant toddler and disappeared into the darkness of the bedroom.
If there was ever a time to roll her eyes, this was it.
She had no idea how—or if she’d even be able to—pry a drunk woman from the bed.
No doubt Kendall would be dead weight. And the couch didn’t exactly look comfortable.
The cushions were too hard. She’d wake up with back pain in the morning, which would put her in a bad mood for the entire day.
What Sloane needed was a good night’s sleep. A good mattress. She’d take the other room and was just about to head toward it when Reese stumbled past her, beating her to it.
The door shut, and a retching sound followed right after.
Shit.
Sloane had no choice but to share a bed with Kendall.
By the time Sloane walked into the bedroom and flicked the switch on, Kendall was already snuggly under the covers.
“Lights!” the woman hissed like a vampire. “It’s so bright.”
“It will be a lot less bright in your own bedroom.”
Kendall laughed loudly and tugged the sheets right up to her nose.
She was drunk, bordering on reckless abandon.
But she was adorable… beautiful. Even with that smear of mascara down her right cheek.
Even with those few strands of dark hair matted to her forehead.
Especially with that lovely, exposed neckline.
No, stop it, Sloane reprimanded. Stop looking at her like you want to kiss her.
But she did. She so badly wanted to kiss Kendall. The thought of not kissing her hurt—physically, like a kick to her gut.
Sloane snapped her head away from Kendall and stalked off to the ensuite bathroom, shutting the door behind her.
She sat down on the edge of the bath and took in a hundred deep gulps.
But no matter how much oxygen saturated her lungs, it couldn’t stop her heart from beating so fast, so dangerously.
What was it about the woman that made her feel this way, like she was both suffocating and breathing in the crispest mountain air at the same time?
She thought back to that moment in the bar where she had asked Kendall if Reese was her type.
How she had felt slightly disappointed when Kendall had said yes, since Sloane was nothing like Reese.
They couldn’t be more different. Which was slightly annoying, since Sloane was pretty sure Kendall was her type. Not like Louise had been.
With Louise, everything revolved around sex. Fantastic sex. But then there were the arguments. The jealousy. The constant threats of leaving. The days of silent treatment.
Kendall was different.
She was the kind of woman who could never hurt someone. Sloane knew it with absolute certainty. If Kendall chose to love someone, that love would be eternal and unshakeable. It would be so deep it could reach the earth’s core.
Sloane had always wanted to be loved like that. To experience the same happy life that her parents had. Two divorce lawyers who were still besotted with each other after fifty years.
But Kendall falling in love with Sloane was as unlikely as Sloane falling in love with Kendall.
It just didn’t seem like something that could ever happen in reality.
“Just brush your teeth and go to bed,” she instructed herself, crossing to the sink. “She’s probably already asleep. And… you can build a pillow fort if you must.”
When Sloane walked back into the bedroom, she was surprised to see Kendall awake and lying on her side, the sheets pulled up to just beneath her chin. “I thought you were going to sleep in there.” Her words were just a bit slurred. Her eyes were half closed and sleepy.
“I was considering it.”
Kendall stuck out an arm and lazily patted the other side of the bed. “I don’t bite. Reese does though, and that’s why I’m sleeping here. Hope you don’t mind.”
“I do mind,” Sloane said, pulling back the covers. But she wasn’t upset, not anymore. The pep talk had helped. A pillow fort was in her foreseeable future. “I was actually looking forward to sleeping in my own bed.”
Sloane tried to slide in knee first but then didn’t factor in the friction and nearly toppled forward, barely saving herself by throwing her weight to the right. There was nothing sexy about that. But then again, was she trying to be sexy?
“Well, I’m not moving,” Kendall muttered, not noticing Sloane’s mental conflict. She was too busy rubbing the butt of her palm against her right eye, smudging the mascara even more. “If I move, I might puke. This is safer for both of us.”
Sloane chuckled, tucking the sheets around her legs. Her dad used to say she slept perfectly still. So much so that once he had sprinted into her room thinking she was dead.
“No one said you had to drink three shots of tequila.”
Kendall moaned. “Please don’t mention that evil word.”
Abandoning the sheets, Sloane turned onto her side to face Kendall.
Whatever had led Kendall to drink so callously had to do with that call.
She was curious, probably too curious for her own good.
“Who phoned you earlier? Because honestly, it looked like whatever conversation you had triggered your alcoholic persona.”
Kendall laughed. But it wasn’t carefree like before. In fact, it came out tight and forced, like she was trying to push past something. “My dad called.”
“Daughters don’t usually gulp down two Moscow mules and three tequilas after a chat with their father. Is he getting married again?”
Kendall didn’t laugh this time. She only stared past Sloane to the bathroom. Her eyes glazed over.
It took a good few seconds for her to refocus, and when she did, her voice was soft and strangled. “Did you know my dad doesn’t think I should be a firefighter? He thinks it’s beneath me. He thinks I’m better than that.”
“Aren’t firefighters the real American heroes? Isn’t it a privilege to do what you do?”
“I think you’re probably thinking about the army, but yes, saving lives is a privilege.”
“Well, then don’t listen to him,” Sloane said. “Life’s too short to do what someone else wants you to do. It’s actually a blessing to love your work. You’re blessed, Kendall.”
All of a sudden, Kendall grabbed Sloane’s hand and squeezed it. She didn’t say a word. She just held on tight and didn’t let go.
For a while they just lay like that, next to each other. Sloane’s hand remained cupped in Kendall’s while Reese snored in the room next door.
It was getting late, yet Sloane was as awake as ever.
It wasn’t just Kendall’s fingers curling around hers that were keeping her up.
Her mind was buzzing. There were just so many things she wanted to say and to ask.
Some of which she had never considered before now—like if Kendall was a sunset or a sunrise girl?
If she liked walks along the promenade as she licked on cookie dough ice cream, if her idea of a fun weekend was going to Napa Valley or if she liked hiking.
People were often surprised when Sloane mentioned she was an avid hiker.
It was actually an excellent cardio workout.
Was this what it felt like to want to get to know someone? Sloane hadn’t experienced that feeling in years—not since she and Louise had started dating. Then again, they had skipped the twenty-one questions and moved right in together.
Kendall cleared her throat, breaking the silence.
“My mom always wanted to be a firefighter. She used to watch a lot of that series called Emergency! as a kid and grew up wanting nothing more than to become a female firefighter. They didn’t have those back then.
It was all men in that field. She said the only female character was Nurse Dixie.
So, she wanted to defy gender norms, to show that women could be just as brave and capable as men. ”
“She sounds badass.”
“She was,” Kendall grinned. Sloane’s stomach did a little roll just watching her face light up.
It was mesmerizing, like watching the stars during a new moon.
“But she never got to live her dream. Her father wanted her to settle down and get married. She became a teacher, and when she was twenty-two, she married my dad.”
“And they got divorced, right?”
“No,” Kendall said, shaking her head. “She died when I was seven. Car accident. She was in the ICU for three days before they declared her brain dead.”
Now it was easy to put the pieces together. No wonder Kendall hated hospitals.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Kendall muttered. “It was ages ago. I don’t really remember what she looked like, not the real her.
What I remember is from photos, and there aren’t that many to begin with.
Which is why I think becoming a firefighter was so important to me.
I’m living my mother’s dream. But it’s also my dream. ”
“Have you told your dad that?” Sloane suggested.
“He doesn’t listen. He never listens.”
Sloane had no more advice to give. Her parents were always supportive of everything she did.
One year, when she was particularly interested in science, her parents bought her a chemistry set, complete with a mini Bunsen burner.
The curtains ended up catching fire, but that wasn’t the point.
Her parents always encouraged her. Even when it threatened their safety.
“Why don’t you introduce your dad to me?” Sloane joked. “Let me convince him that your heart belongs to firefighting. I can be very persuasive.”
Kendall chuckled. “I have no doubt that you are.”
“Seriously, I’ll be honored to defend your choice of profession. But, I might just kick his ass if he doesn’t agree,” Sloane warned with a wave of her index finger.
Another laugh bubbled out of Kendall, this one free enough to shake her shoulders. “I’ll give up my inheritance to see that. Just so you know, he tends to drop his guard on the left.”
“Noted.”
They both chuckled and then an easy quiet settled around them.
Sloane didn’t even need to say goodnight. She could tell by Kendall’s breathing, which had become slower and more rhythmic, that the firefighter had fallen asleep… with Sloane’s hand still tucked between hers.
Not wanting to wake Kendall up, Sloane simply closed her eyes and embraced the exhaustion.