“Mac,” I correct her. “He doesn’t really like anyone knowing his real name outside of his inner circle. It makes it easier for him to cut ties if he needs to. I’m surprised he didn’t tell you that while he was here earlier.”
“I’ve always called him by his real name,” she says. “But I’ll make sure not to in front of anyone else.”
“Good girl.” I tuck my head down to kiss the side of her neck, relishing the way she tilts her head to the side to give me more access as she closes the app on her phone.
Before I get any further, she sits up suddenly with a gasp before turning to face me with mixture of shock and guilt.
“I have so many missed calls and messages from Becky.” She holds the phone up for me to see before her eyes narrow in suspicion when I just shrug. “You knew.” When I nod, she shouts. “She’s probably worried sick! I never leave her on ‘delivered’ for this long.”
“She knows where you are,” I remind her with a grin, hoping to defuse her temper. “She’s just trying to cockblock me.” When she attempts to stand, I pull her back against me. “Regardless of how much she knows about our past, or what’s going on between us now, she knows you’re safe with me.”
“Am I?” she scoffs.
My heart sinks.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Sloan
While I know that Dean would never intentionally hurt me, I’ve given him the power to wreck my heart today. If he wants me to truly trust him, then he needs to do the same. I don’t like the secrets and half-truths. I need all the information. Especially given the dangerous job he’s throwing me into tomorrow night. Despite that, I know he’s tried to unload years of baggage in one day.
“I’m sorry,” I say, regretting my question as soon as I feel Dean tense behind me. “I know I’m safe with you.” I turn to straddle his lap so I can face him. “I trust you with my life,” I admit. “I’m just having a hard time trusting you with my heart…” My words are cut off by his mouth crashing against mine.
“You’ll get there,” he pants against my lips when he breaks the kiss to take a breath. “Just knowing you want to is enough for now.”
I nod before slumping against his chest and burying my face in his neck to inhale his scent. He smells like sandalwood and pine and something manly that’s justhim.I wish I could bottle it or put it in a candle to burn on my nightstand. Because I want to sleep with that scent every night, knowing that the source belongs to me.I wonder if that’s the same reason he runs his nose under my jaw?
“I know today has been a lot.” He kisses the top of my head. “Do you want me to take you home?”
Despite his question, his arms tighten around me like he’s willing me to stay with him, and I realize that I’m not ready to let him go either. I don’t think I ever will be.
“Yes,” I whisper, raising my head to look at him when he sighs in defeat. “But…Can I go home with you?” I feel my cheeks heat at my brazenness when he doesn’t instantly agree. “It’s okay. You can just drop me off at my house…”
“Sloan!” he barks my name, stopping my backtracking. “Of course you can come home with me. I’m just surprised that you asked. You’re rushing my timeline.” When I just stare at him in confusion, he chuckles. “I bought a house, but I didn’t think I’d get to live in it for a while. I was just planning to crash here in my office until you were ready.”
“Until I was ready for…what?” I’m still confused. “Why would you stay here instead of your own house?”
“Because it’s notmyown house.” His hands drop to my thighs to hold me in place as he says, “It’sours.I bought it for us to live in once I convinced you that you were mine. I wasn’t going to live there without you.”
“Dean, I…” I lean forward to kiss him instead of blurting out the three words on the tip of my tongue. Because, for once, myhead takes charge. I want to make sure this is real before I admit what my heart already knows. So, when I break the kiss, I say a different three-word sentence that’s almost as powerful. “Take me home.”
When Dean pullshis car into the driveway of the house that I tried to buy a few months ago, I turn toward him with a scowl. I’d had my eye on this house since the first time I saw it on my way to a party up the mountain. When it went up for sale, I offered ten percent over the asking price despite knowing I would have to live on packaged ramen to afford the payments. I was devastated when I got the call from the realtor that someone had outbid me by thirty percent, only to be relieved when I received the eviction notice for my studio space two months later.
It makes me wonder if all the times he’s admitted to watching me, it was just some long con. Maybe this is all just an elaborate way to escalate the torture he put me through in college. He’s driving my dream car. He’s living in my dream house. He’s running a business that showcases my dream job—not that my dream is to be a stripper, but to enhance my talent into a more well-rounded dancer. He’s pulled me into my dream relationship—where I’m worshiped and protected.But am I, really?I’m beginning to think that every time I felt like someone was sabotaging me, it was him.
“I just lost my dance studio this morning,” I mumble as he parks behind the house and kills the engine.
“I know.” His face is a mask of indifference as he admits, “I bought that, too.”
I want to lash out and hit him. I want to scream at him. I want to hate him. But his voice in my head reminds me that there’s a thin line between love and hate. I seem to be as good at straddling that line as he is at straddling the line of the law.
Before I can voice any of the questions floating around in my head, Dean pulls the keys from the ignition and gets out of the car. He stalks around to my side and opens the door before holding his hand out to help me stand.
“Come on,” he says when I just stare at him. “It’s cold as fuck out here.” When I still don’t take his hand, he drops it and bends at the waist until our noses almost touch. “You can get out of the car and walk on your own, or I’ll throw you over my shoulder and carry you. Either way, you’re coming intoourhouse so I can explain this.” He waves his hand toward the house.
“Fine,” I scoff. “But I’m ordering an Uber as soon as we’re inside. You’ll have about fifteen minutes to say your piece. Then, I never want to see you again…Dick.”
“Whatever you say, Sly,” he chuckles as he stands and steps back so I can climb out of the car.
