But I’m not Eric.
Honestly, right now I feel a lot like my dad. Reckless and self-serving with a nasty habit of disregarding other people’s needs in favor of his selfish desires. My stomach hitches, protesting at the thought of being anything like my father, but the proof is right here, looking at me with defeated hazel eyes.
“I have to go,” Sloane whispers, more to herself than to me. “I have to get out of here.”
When she pushes at my chest a final time, I don’t have it in me to stop her. I watch her walk out of the room on unsteady feet, teetering on heels that make no sense for a construction site, her head hung low and her chin tucked into her chest.
And seeing that—her entire body bowed and broken with regretting me—finally destroys me.
I don’t know how long I stand in there, wrapped in shame and already missing the warmth of her body, but when I finally start moving, my feetare blocks of cement. Only two of my guys, Malcolm and Jason, are still working in the interior of the suite. They’re both too focused on the piece of drywall they’re installing in the space that will serve as the living room to pay any attention to me, which is fine, because my mind is on Sloane.
On the hurt in her eyes and the defeat lining her features. Those heart-wrenching sobs tearing through her like a thousand tiny knives puncturing my chest. I don’t have to go out looking for her to know she’s left the building. I can feel her absence in my bones.
In another life, I would go after her, hold her in my arms and make everything okay, but if the past few minutes have taught me anything, it’s that my hands are not a source of solace for Sloane. As fucked up as it is, I wish Eric was here, so I could tell him how I screwed it all up. He would know exactly what to say to her, exactly how to fix the mess I’ve made, but unfortunately for both of us, he isn’t.
If he was here, she never would have let you touch her. And you would still be pretending to hate her guts to keep everyone from seeing how much you love her.
God, this is all so fucked up.
It’s the kind of mess only an Alexander man could make, but unlike my bastard of a father, I don’t plan on leaving Sloane to pick up all of the pieces on her own. She won’t let me comfort her, and I can’t give her Eric, so I’ll make sure she has the next best thing. Grabbing my phone, I type out a quick message to Mal.
Dominic:Can you go check on Sloane? She didn’t look well when she left the hotel a while ago.
There. It’s the vaguest message I’ve ever sent, but I know it’ll be enough to get Mal moving. She’s too much like Eric not to jump into action when someone she loves needs her.
Mal:I was just wondering why she wasn’t back at the office yet. I’ll swing by the house and check on her.
That’s the Kents for you. Caring. Selfless. Loyal to a fault. Knowing Mal will be with Sloane soon, taking care of her in a way I now know she’ll never let me, does nothing for the crack in my chest, but I can’t find it in me to care.
I deserve this pain. I practically begged the universe for it the first time I touched her skin after years of holding her at arm’s length with nothing but my words, so it’s on me. All the hurt I feel, all the pain Sloane feels, lies squarely on my shoulders, and I’ll bear it because that’s what you do for the people you love.
You put their needs before your own.
You take the rain, so they can dance in the sunshine.
You place a bandage over the gaping hole in your chest, so blood doesn’t spill on their shoes.
I’ve done it for her before, and it might take time, but I’ll do it again. Really, it was so stupid of me to think she would ever want more from me. Her enemy. Her husband’s best friend. A man who was so caught up in his desire he didn’t even think about what would come after the spell broke.
She deserves so much better than that, and the best thing I can do is get out of her way and give her a chance to find it.
Tossing my phone back in my work bag, I square my shoulders and let the resolute vow to leave Sloane Kent the fuck alone wash over me. I don’t expect it to bring me peace, but I’m caught off guard by the ferocious way my body rejects the old promise made new.
My skin tightens, and my fingers ache at the thought of never holding her again. My shoulders grow tense, and another pound is added to the millstone around my neck. I pull in a deep breath and push it out slowly,willing my body to give, begging for the pressure to let upjust a little, but it doesn’t happen.
Frustrated, I turn and walk toward my guys that are still working. I grab another ladder and position it underneath them then climb up to hold a corner of the large drywall slab in place. With my help, the job is done in minutes, and we all silently agree to move on to hanging the next slab.
After the ceiling is completely covered, I tell the guys to take a break and start taping the seams myself. It’s tedious work, but the monotony is exactly what I need to get my mind off of losing Sloane before I got the chance to have her.
***
Every muscle in my back is coiled tightly, protesting the excessive amount of work I put in today, as I hop out of my pickup and walk into my apartment building. It was close to eight when I called it quits at the hotel, and by the time I left, every inch of drywall we’d cut for the Presidential Suite was installed, taped, and ready for mudding—a job I decided to leave for Andre, my second in command.
Ishouldbe happy, but I’m not, because throwing myself into work didn’t do a damn thing to ease the pain of existing in a world where the one woman I want can never be mine. At this point, it feels like all I do,all I’ve ever done, is get over her, and I’m exhausted at the prospect of having to do it again.
The lobby is surprisingly empty when I make my way to the elevator and press the call button. The car comes quickly, and I let out a sigh of relief when I step inside and find it empty. My neighbors are friendly enough, but most of them feel compelled to engage in small talk during elevator rides, and I’m not in the mood.
I tap my fingers on my thigh impatiently as the car shoots to the tenth floor, anxious to get home and wash this day off.Well, some parts of it.Other parts I want to ink into my skin and keep with me forever. The taste of Sloane’s skin, the sweet smell of her desire curling in the air around us, my name on her lips.
