Instead, he plops down on the step right beside me, and his arm brushes mine ever so slightly. Then he’s looking at me again, smiling as if leaving this step is the furthest thing from his mind.
“Nah, I think I’ll just catch the next one. Is it okay if I sit with you?”
“Why would you want to do that?”
He shrugs. “You look like you’re having a bad day.”
“Something like that. I don’t want to talk about it with a stranger though.”
Both of his dark brows rise, and for an instant, he looks like he’s second-guessing his decision to abandon the tour, but then he smiles again and extends his hand to me. “I’m Eric Kent.”
I stare at his proffered hand hanging almost awkwardly from his arm while he waits for me to do or say something. After a beat, I place my hand in his, allowing his long fingers to wrap around mine. His skin is warm, and he clears his throat gently when another second goes by without me telling him my name.
“Sorry,” I say finally. “I’m Sloane Carson.”
“Nice to meet you, Sloane.” More of his perfect teeth come into view as his smile grows wider. “We officially aren’t strangers anymore.”
Chapter 38
Sloane
Now
Day one without Dom started with me watching the sunrise through swollen, puffy eyes I hadn’t closed for more than a minute all night. I dragged myself out of bed at five in the morning and sat in the bathtub for long hours, soaking in all of my regrets and wishing I gave Dom a real chance to explain before I asked him to leave.
I was overwhelmed by what little information he gave me, but all the questions I was too scared to hear the answers to in the moment kept me up last night. I stared at the ceiling and tried to picture the details of the night he remembers so vividly that have evaded me for years.
Me walking into a party and seeing him. A tall, impossibly handsome stranger with smooth bronze skin and trouble in his eyes. I wondered if the connection was immediate. If I was drawn to him the second his midnight stare locked on me, and whether I gave in to the urge to be close to him as soon as I felt it.
And then I obsessed over all the different ways we could have ended uphere.
But no matter how many times I turned it over in my head—the list, the party, the note Dom says he left that I never saw—I just couldn’t put it all together. Once I realized I wouldn’t be able to do so without the help of the one person who would probably rather lick an un-sanded piece of plywood than talk to me, I gave up trying and decided to distract myself with work.
I’ve been sitting at the island choosing materials and adjusting project budgets for over three hours when my phone starts vibrating. I grab for it instantly, hoping stupidly that it’s Dom, and see my dad’s name flashing on the screen. I consider not answering, but I haven’t talked to him all week, so I paste a smile on my face and accept the call.
“Hey, Daddy.”
“Bean!” he bellows. “I’m so glad I caught you. How would you like to join us for brunch at the club? Your mother says you usually have plans with Mal and Annette, but I wanted to extend the invitation anyway. We haven’t shared a meal since…”
Since your wife told me I needed to get over the death of my husband and find a rich man to marry.
“Thanks for the invite, Daddy. I don’t know if I’ll be able to make it though. I’ve got to—”
Mom.
Suddenly, the memory of my mother’s visit the morning after the party hits me. She was in the room when I woke up because my roommate let her in, and I have no idea how long she was there before the weight of her disapproving stare woke me up.
It’s wholly possible she could have seen Dom’s note and gotten rid of it before I ever laid eyes on it. That would certainly explain the way she acted after the legacy pledge breakfast: the speech about me having loosemorals, the implication that I was boy-crazy and more concerned with partying than getting an education.
My mother has never been a nice woman, but that day she was especially cruel. And I guess now it makes sense. She saw me acting out in all the ways that went against her code of perfection and wasted no time nipping it in the bud.
Isolating me in a single room on the opposite side of campus from my friends. Threatening to tell my father about finding me hungover after my first night of freedom. Stealing my only chance at remembering Dom and changing the course of my life forever. But would she do something like that?
There’s only one way to find out.
“Actually, I think I will take you up on that offer. What time should I meet you guys there?”
Dad rattles off the details, and as soon as we’re off the phone, I race upstairs to get dressed. My stomach is in knots as I pull on my clothes and force my curls into submission. Just the thought of speaking to my mother about that day makes me want to throw up, but I know I have to do this.
