And absurdly, impossibly, it might be the sexiest thing anyone has ever said to me.
***
RYAN
I’m having a hell of a time figuring Sloane out. On one hand, she has enough backbone to skip her own wedding. On the other, everything she’s mentioned about the wedding, and the man she left standing at the altar, paints the picture of someone who’s spent years living by somebody else’s rules.
Which is probably why she finally walked away.
Either way, watching her devour the pizza is…highly entertaining. I should’ve ordered an extra large.
“So tomorrow,” I say, “are you okay if we get on the road around eight, nine o’clock?”
Something flickers across her face, a hesitation she masks a little too quickly. “Yeah, sounds great.”
I can’t help imagining the kind of place she lives in. Judging by the fiancé’s apparent income level, she probably has some sleek condo in Pike Place, or one of those waterfront units in Bellevue with floor-to-ceiling windows. Even sitting here in my old sweats and a damp T-shirt, she looks like she belongs somewhere curated and expensive.
Outside, darkness is starting to settle around the cottage. It’s only eight-thirty, so it’s too early to call it a night and too late to pretend we’re not strangers sharing a house. I wonder what we’re supposed to do to fill the next hour or two until I can politely retreat to my room.
“I think I’m going to go for a walk along the water,” Sloane says. “If you want to join.”
Is it a real invitation, or just politeness?
At the wordwalk, Marshall jumps to his feet, tail wagging, staring at me like this is the best idea he’s ever heard.
“Uh, yeah. Sure,” I say. “Let me grab you something warmer. The temperature drops fast once the sun goes.”
She gathers up our plates and loads the dishwasher while I pull a fleece button-up from the closet. She pulls it on, swimming in it, and suddenly I understand the entire marketing campaign behindboyfriend fit. It’s adorable. And also…dangerously attractive.
The setting sun lights up the beach as we walk. Waves lap at the sand, filling the silence between us while Marshall bounds ahead, chasing the tennis ball I throw.
“It must be so nice to live near the water,” Sloane says.
So, not a Bellevue condo, then.
“I only lived inland during college,” I tell her. “Four years at Oregon State. It felt…suffocating.”
“I get it,” she says quietly. “I really feel like I can breathe here.”
I look over at her. She’s wearing that soft, faraway expression again, like the ocean air is helping to loosen something in her chest.
I turn to the ocean. Most visitors to Wild Rose Point talk about the scenery. Sloane’s talking about breathing, like she understands exactly why I’ve never been able to live far from the water.
“Or maybe it’s not the water,” she adds. “Maybe it’s…” She stops, shakes her head, laughs under her breath. “God. I’m already traipsing through your house, wearing your clothes, eating your pizza. I’m sure the last thing you want is to hear all about my problems.”
“That’s not true,” I say. And it isn’t. I want to know everything, but I try not to sound too eager. “Shoot.”
“Okay, well…Jack and I were together four years,” she begins. “Met at a wedding, actually. My friend from college and one of his coworkers. I caught the bouquet.”
“Dramatic,” I say.
“Yup.” She smiles faintly. “Jack asked me out that night, and everything after that rolled out pretty predictably.”
“So what went wrong?” I ask before I can stop myself.
She’s quiet for a moment, and the steady sound of waves makes the silence comfortable. I’m happy to wait for her to collect her thoughts. “Like I said last night, he’s actually a decent person. Like, he knows all my colleagues’ coffee orders. He’ll drop by every now and then with trays of drinks and treats, all made to everyone’s preferences. He knows it stresses me out to turn left onto busy streets, so he always gives me directions that take a little longer but avoid those routes. He likes surprises. Romantic gestures.”
“Sounds like a really thoughtful guy,” I say. I have a pang of wondering if I was really the cause of what happened with me and Calista. It wasn’t that I didn’t do nice things for her, but I can’t imagine she’d speak about me the same way that Sloane is speaking about the guy she left at the altar. What was his deal?
