“A few years that you’d spend nagging me to move somewhere else.”
“No! But Luke, I just think you’ve got a ton of potential, and . . .”
“And you think I’m wasting it in Somerset.” Sloane wants a husband who will publish in the big journals and speak at the big conferences. There was a time when I thought I wanted that too, but my priorities have changed.
I want to be a good surgeon, sure, but it’s not the only thing I want.
“Not wasting it,” Sloane says carefully. “But Luke?—”
“I don’t want to move back to Toronto, Sloane.”
“It doesn’t have to be Toronto,” she says quickly. “We could go anywhere, to the States, or?—”
“But I don’t want to move anywhere,” I say bluntly. “My parents live here, and I’d like them to see their grandkids. When I have them.”
“We’d visit your parents,” she insists. “Surely you’re not going to give up a relationship because you don’t want to move away from your parents?”
“No.” She’s right. The geography is just an excuse.
“Sloane, I’m involved with someone else.” It slips out of my mouth before I have a chance to think about it, but I realize it’s true. Even though Melissa isn’t replying to mytexts, and she came to hockey to see Austin, she’s still the girl who consumes my thoughts.
Anything with Sloane would feel like cheating on Melissa.
A single tear trails down Sloane’s cheek, and she blinks a few times. “I see.” She’s already pulling herself together. “Why didn’t you tell me, Luke?”
“Because we broke up two months ago, Sloane.”
“I shouldn’t have come.” She pushes her chair back from the table with enough force to scratch the hardwood floor. “I’ll get out of your way.”
She stalks away to grab her duffel, which somehow found its way to my bedroom while I was at the grocery store.
“Stay here tonight,” I suggest. “I’ll take the couch. You can head back to Toronto in the morning.” It’ll be awkward, but it’s late and she’s upset.
“I’ll be fine,” she insists.
“Please, Sloane.”
“All right,” she gives in. “But I’ll take the couch.”
“I insist.” If I give her the couch, she’ll likely try to crawl into my bed in the middle of the night.
After we finish our dinner in silence, Sloane disappears into the bedroom. I stretch out on the couch, still fully clothed and far too keyed up to sleep.
I type a text to Melissa, delete it, then type it again and hit send before I can change my mind.
Me: It was nice to see you at the game.
I wonder if Austin talked her into a dinner date.
Half an hour later Sloane reappears in my living room, wearing only a white tank top and panties.
“I got cold, Luke,” she says with feigned innocence. “I thought maybe you could come warm me up?”
I’m sure many men would find her irresistible, but I’m not even tempted. My thoughts are tied up in a curvy brunette with blue eyes and freckles. If I got into bed with Sloane, I’m not even sure I’d be able to perform.
“I’ll get you another blanket,” I say, walking to the closet to grab one. “And I can turn up the heat if you’d like.”
Something in my expression must convince her it’s pointless, and she doesn’t argue when I hand her the blanket.
