Chapter 8
Zander
“So…you and Evie?” Sloane swooshes the drink she’s got in her red cup.
Her head is down, and her voice carries the weight of vindication.
I don’t know when she discovered that I was in love with Evie or what it felt like for her to realize that.
I can’t imagine it. But I’m glad she told me.
And ya, maybe it was a little petty for her to stage that awkward costume contest in hopes of embarrassing Evie, but Sloane has a good heart. She’s just hurt. And that’s on me.
“Ya. You were right, Sloane. I’m sorry.” I don’t think I’ll ever be able to make it up to her. But one day she’ll find a man who can fix the damage I’ve done. That’s a hard pill to swallow for me. When everyone in town thinks I’m the Golden Boy but I know the mistakes I’ve made.
She shrugs her normally confident shoulders. “It’s not easy being right all the time.” And then her shoulders sag.
“I never meant to hurt you. I-I didn’t know.”
“I know. That’s why I’m not really mad at you.
” Not mad, just hurt. Disappointed. I hear what she’s not saying.
Finally her eyes find mine. “There’s someone else for me.
Someone better than you, though you may find that hard to believe.
” Her playful tone is hollow, yet rings of truth and hope. I know she’s going to be fine.
“You deserve the best, Sloane. I’m just not that best for you.”
“Yup.” She takes a big gulp of her drink, then offers us up a toast. “Here’s to not being the best for each other. Now, don’t fuck this up.” Her head tilts toward the east wall of the barn where Evie is making a beeline for me.
“I wouldn’t dream of it. She’s it for me”
“I know.” From the corner of my eye, I see Sloane give a little wave and stroll off.
My gaze is pinned on Evie. There’s a fire in her eyes that I love. She is one passionate woman. I only hope I can keep up with her. I’ll spend my life trying. I know that much.
When she’s within a few feet of me, she points her finger at my chest. “You,” she announces, “and me. Savoring. Now.”
I don’t know what the fuck she’s talking about, but I love it because her hands are all over me. Right here, in front of all of our friends, she sticks her tongue down my throat and weaves her hands through my hair. I don’t notice until later that the cowboy hat fell off.
This sexy AF woman is in my arms, claiming me. When she said someone might see us earlier, I thought she wanted to take it slow and not tell people yet. I guess I was wrong. It’s been known to happen.
Her kiss is hot, desperate, seeking. I know how badly she wants me because my body is thrumming with the same insatiable desire. Having her in the shed was just a taste. I’m planning to take her a few more times tonight if she’ll let me.
But then she pulls away, stares into my eyes, and asks the most asinine question I’ve ever heard. “You’re not mad?”
My hands are wrapped around her waist, and I don’t care who’s watching us. There have been a few people curious about our relationship over the years, so I’m sure they’re discreetly taking it all in.
“Why the fuck would I be mad?”
“You said you wanted this to stay between us for now.”
A cough dislodges from my throat. “I said that because I thought you didn’t want anyone seeing us.” My hands roam up and down her back. “If it were up to me, I’d shout it aloud right here and now.”
Her hand flies to my mouth. “Save that for a different day. Right now I need to kiss you.”
So she does.