“I wasn’t talking about the sex.” I don’t blink. “But amazing is an understatement.”
The twitch returns, and she presses her lips together tosmother it. I feel a strange sort of satisfaction in the way she’s fighting this. Fighting and losing, I hope.
She tilts her head, and her gaze sharpens. “Maybe I decided grandpa kink isn’t my thing.”
That pulls a laugh from me. “I’m not old enough to be your father, let alone your grandfather.”
“Twelve years is close enough.”
“I think the fact that you remember the details means something.”
Her mouth opens and closes, but she doesn’t deny it. They say the devil’s in the details, but this feels like God answering my prayer, whether I deserve it or not.
We both turn at the knock on the doorframe. It’s the woman who offered to come with Sloane. “You need anything?” she asks softly, but I can see all the questions she’s not voicing because the air between Sloane and me is practically crackling.
“We’re finished.” She’s looking at her friend but speaking to me.
“For now,” I agree, because I’m pretty sure the women waiting for her in the room down the hall would happily dispatch me and bury the body if I push too hard.
She uncrosses her arms and gestures toward the hallway with a hand that’s not quite steady. “If you need help selecting your next unputdownable read, Suzanne at the register is more than capable. Otherwise, have a nice life, Jensen.”
There’s no way this is over. Not when I can smell her lavender scent with every breath, and I’m finally close enough to see the flecks of gold at the edges of her blue eyes. I spent a year trying and failing to forget Sloane Winslow. Now she’s so close I could reach out and pull her to me, and there’s no chance of me having a nice life, or anything close to it, until I figure out why she refuses to be a part of it.
But I nod and walk past her. I don’t know this town or herfriends. Or who she is outside of those two perfect nights we spent together. But I’m damn sure going to find out.
3
SLOANE
Sadie slips backinto the meeting room ahead of me and settles into her chair without a word. I pull the door shut and lean against it for an extra second because my knees feel about as steady as chocolate pudding.
“Care to share what just happened?” Piper asks. I can almost feel my friends holding their collective breath as they wait for my answer.
“Not even a little.” I lift my shoulders on a deep, fortifying inhale, then force them back down as if they aren’t intent on camping out around my ears. “Let’s just forget that interruption, okay?”
“Sure, sure.” Avah exhales a slow breath. “Love that for us. Almost as much as I loved hauling ass out of the concert last weekend when Jensen Grant walked on stage. Truly, ignoring the brooding hottie who apparently traveled halfway across the country for you is bringing all the lols.”
“Avah.” Molly’s tone is a gentle warning.
“I’m being serious.” Avah holds up her hands. “I’m also convincing myself out loud.”
“You’re not doing much for the rest of us,” Taylor tells her.
I sigh, knowing the quickest way past this fifty shades of awkward moment is through it. My book club besties are trying not to stare or make eye contact with each other while I’m watching. They’re worried, but they don’t want me to realize they’re worried. I’ve gotten very familiar with that particular look, and I love them for caring, even if it makes me want to crawl under the table.
“When you say you don’t want to talk about it…” Piper frowns and places her hands on her baby bump again. “Does that mean you’re going to make us drag every detail out of you?”
“There’s nothing to drag out,” I say as I take a seat. “Jensen is nothing to me. Less than.”
I try to shove the lie into a dark corner of my heart where it will take up less space, which is an epic fail.
Iris sets down her water glass with the kind of purpose she brings to every gesture. “I don’t think he knows that.”
My heart hiccups—dare I say hopefully? Oh, hell, no. I can’t allow hope into the equation when it comes to Jensen. I don’t want anything from him. Not one thing. “He’ll figure it out.”
“Talk to us, honey,” Molly pleads, and my eyes sting because she says it like my mess is their mess and they’d have it no other way. “Maybe we can help.”
“You can’thoneyme right now.” I shake my head. “This isn’t a honey situation.”
