Those thoughts don’t help me in getting her back. But ‘back’ is the wrong word, isn’t it?
I never really had her.
Because, and this brings us full circle, I’m a fucking asshole. I kept Sloan at arm’s length, afraid of what she meant to me so quickly. For someone I barely knew, I cared way more than I should have. I realized it the very first night.
I’m not sure what it is, but, dammit, that girl is making me lose my mind.
Icraveher.
Because she’s the only one who’s ever understood me.
And now I have to try my hardest to understand her and understand what she needs from me to let me back in.
Grabbing my hoodie, I put a neatly folded piece of paper in its pocket. It’s a poem I wrote on the boat. A moment of inspiration struck as we got back to the harbor in the rain.
“Hey, douche,” I call out to Tim when he’s getting ready to head out. “You going to the restaurant now?”
Tim nods, zipping up his jacket. “Yeah, I’m starving. And you know I don’t want Tally to be on her feet for too long.”
“Yeah, I get that. I think I would tie her to a chair.” I chuckle, closing the locker.
“It’s as if you don’t even know my wife.” Tim sighs but starts to grin.
“True. Let’s go.” I urge, starting to walk to the exit, but Tim’s hand falls on my shoulder.
I need to see my girl too.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“I’ll come with you.” I shrug him off and make my way to the doors.
Tim doesn’t say anything. He only lets out a long, exasperated breath, already knowing he won’t be able to make me stay away.
I immediately spot Sloan when we arrive at the restaurant. She’s leaning against the counter near the kitchen, engrossed in a conversation with Mac since they only just opened. She’s rubbing her upper arms like she is trying to generate some warmth.
I knew she was cold. Dammit.
I take a deep breath and gather my courage, only for Tim to step up, holding me back again. “One wrong move, man.”
I nod, walking over to her, and when she glances up, her glare could freeze lava. She’s still mad, no doubt about it. I clear my throat nervously. “I… uh… brought you something,” I stammer, feeling a bit self-conscious.
How does she always do that?
Sloan arches an eyebrow, clearly not expecting this. “What?” she asks, her tone laced with irritation.
I hold the hoodie out to her. “I thought you might be cold,” I say softly, my eyes locked onto hers.
She looks at the hoodie, then back at me, her anger not diminishing. “I don’t need your charity, Nash,” she snaps, refusing to take it.
I raise an eyebrow, unfazed by her stubbornness. “Charity? Nah, pretty girl,” I tease with a mischievous grin. “Just looking out for you.”
Sloan’s glare intensifies, and her cheeks flush slightly. “Don’t call me that,” she snaps. “Why are you even here? Last time I checked, you were banned from the restaurant.”
As if that would keep me from you.
I don’t give up. Leaning in closer, I lower my voice as I continue, “You know, it’s not charity if it’s from someone who cares about you,” I whisper, my gaze unwavering.
Sloan hesitates, her eyes narrowing at me, and I can see a glint of something in her eyes.
