Chapter 25
Sloane
Eleven Years Ago –
I wiped my nose with the back of my hand, kicking the dead grass and worn-down soil under my feet.
Stupid boys. They all sucked.
It wasn’t like Logan and I had been dating for that long, but he was popular and well-liked. Sure, he used a little too much tongue when kissing, but he was cute. And a guaranteed prom date. Or so I thought.
At least he was kind enough to walk me home before he broke up with me and told me he’d be taking Jessica to prom instead because ‘she promised him a blowie.’
I rolled my eyes again at the thought. Fucking boys.
I couldn’t be that upset. After all, I only started dating Logan because Rhys was always distracted and busy. Logan was my own version of a distraction.
I wasn’t jealous of Chantel. I just missed my best friend. He was always with her, and if he wasn’t with her, he was talking about her. And on top of that, I could tell she didn’t like me.
She stared at me with such a deep hatred that I felt it even when I wasn’t looking at her. It was driving a wedge between Rhys and me, too.
I could tell she wanted him to have nothing to do with me. And while I knew that Rhys would never leave me high and dry, the calls and amount of time he spent with me were dwindling.
I wouldn’t point it out, though. Rhys was clearly happy. But now, I was single and painfully aware of the fact that I’d have to watch Rhys and Chantel dry-hump on the dance floor while I sat and drank spiked punch in the corner.
Alone.
The sun had set at least an hour ago. My mom and Lisa were sitting in the Armstrongs’ kitchen, peeling potatoes for dinner, and my dad and Jim were probably drinking beer, their eyes glued to whatever sports game was on TV.
They all knew what happened, but left me alone to host my own little pity party for a little bit.
Rhys’s Jeep pulled into the driveway, and he hopped out, basically covered head to toe in dirt. The baseball season was midway through already, and I only had a month or so before he was gone.
He’d been scouted for years, and I knew he was going pro the second he turned eighteen. I was happy for him, of course. But there was no telling where he would end up. Our time was limited, and stupid Chantel was eating it all up.
Okay… Maybe I was a little jealous.
I watched him as he walked inside, swiping more tears when they fell. The whole damn thing was embarrassing.
The screen door slammed shut as Rhys walked inside. I would give myself a couple more minutes to sulk, then head in. It felt silly to waste my time with Rhys over someone like Logan.
I wasn’t sure how long he was inside, but right as I stood to make my way over there, he was jogging across the front yard towards me.
He was still wearing his practice uniform, sweat and dirt caked to his face. “Pip, you okay?”
I plopped back down onto the swing, lifting my shoulder in a shrug. Obviously, my mom and Lisa spilled the beans. “I’m fine. Just… embarrassed, I guess. He’s going with Jessica because she promised to put out. So, now I’m single and going to my senior prom alone. All because of a blow job.”
Rhys shook his head, walking over and climbing into the tire swing with me, which was a hell of a lot easier when we were ten, and Rhys wasn’t six feet tall, and sculpted like a Greek god. Our knees pressed together, his hands gripping the worn rope right beneath mine as we swayed slowly.
The branch groaned under our shared weight, but we ignored it.
“He’s an ass.”
I nodded in agreement. “That he is.”
Rhys reached over, using his dirty thumb to wipe a tear from my cheek. “Well, it’s our lucky day, Pip.”
“Why’s that?” I sniffed and huffed out a laugh, feeling the exact opposite of lucky.
He pushed against the ground, swinging us gently. “Chantel broke up with me today.”
My head snapped up, looking at Rhys. “Oh, Rhys. I’m so sorry. I know how much you liked her.”
“Eh, not that much.” He shrugged and then nudged my knee with his. “But, I think I have a solution to this predicament.”
“What’s that?”
Rhys spoke my full name clearly, planting his feet to stop the swing. “Sloane Presley Taylor, will you go to prom with me?”
Uh… What? Had I heard that correctly?
I stared at Rhys, furrowing my brows. “You wanna go to prom with me?”
“Pipsqueak, I’d be an idiot not to want to go with you.”
His voice was so confident and so sweet, like he actually meant every word he was saying. Though I knew it was only comforting words to pacify tears I’d already shed.
I shook my head. “No, Rhys. You don’t have to do that. Go with… I don’t know, someone you’d actually have fun with.”
“When have we not had fun together?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow.
“This is a different kind of fun, Rhys.”
He rolled his eyes. “That makes no sense. Go to prom with me, Pip. Please. That way, I can actually have fun and not worry about some loser putting his undeserving hands all over you all night. I’ve been this close—” he held up a hand, pinching his index finger and thumb so close together the gap was hardly visible.
“—to decking Logan whenever I see his tongue down your throat. The guy kisses like a giraffe looking for a leaf on a tree.”
We both laughed, knowing he wasn’t lying about that part. The thing that took me by surprise was Rhys openly admitting to how much he hated watching Logan with me.
It hadn’t even occurred to me that he paid enough attention or that it affected him.
Rhys placed his hands over mine. “Please? Pretty please?”
I smiled softly. “Sure, yes. I’d love to.”
He grinned, pulling me into a hug. “It’s gonna be the best. Trust me.”