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Chapter 16
Sloan
♪Girlfriend | Phoenix
When I opened the front door at 6:15, Jason stood there leaning on his arm against the door frame, still laughing.
I put my hands on my hips and glared playfully at him. “I’m glad one of us found that amusing. That was easily the most embarrassing thing to ever happen to me.”
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Jason had laughed so hard on the phone through the whole mortifying performance, you could hear him through my cell a foot away.
“I’m sorry, you’re right. Can I come in?” he wheezed.
He looked sooooo good. Even slightly annoyed at him for laughing at me, I had to bite my lip in appreciation. He wore a green flannel with the sleeves rolled up, and his china-blue eyes were gleaming.
They were gleaming at my expense, but still.
I put an arm across the door. “I was musically assaulted today by a roving a cappella group in naval dress whites, and you think it’s funny?”
He crashed into me, hugging me around the waist. I went limp in protest, dropping my arms to my side like noodles, and it made him laugh harder.
“You just don’t realize the effect you have on musicians, Sloan Monroe. So…when do I get to musically assault you?”
I narrowed my eyes, but he kissed me, smiling against my unresponsive, protesting lips. Normally his close proximity made me swoon, but his laughing made me just indignant enough to hold my ground.
“I come bearing gifts,” he whispered, an inch from my mouth, still cracking up.
“It better be good. I’m about ready to throw you into the laundry room with Tucker.”
He let me go, picking up a plastic bag from the steps, and handed it to me, his eyes sparkling. I looked inside and gasped. It was full of tiny creamers.
“I bought five coffees for these,” he said. “When I hit the creamer station, I felt like a Viking on a raid.”
I beamed. “Jason, you pillaged for me? This is so sweet!” But when he leaned in, I turned my face to the side. “Where are my five coffees?”
“Gas station coffee? For a connoisseur like you? I wouldn’t dare.” Then he reached down, around the side of my front porch flowerpot with the petrified geraniums in it, and produced a warm Starbucks cup.
I looked at it and held my breath. “That’s so thoughtful.” I raised my eyes to his. “But I can’t have caffeine this late.”
He smiled. “I know. It’s decaf.”
I had to clutch a hand over my heart. “You realize that repeatedly bringing me my favorite coffee is comparable to feeding a stray cat, right? You might never get rid of me now.”
“Good,” he said, pulling me close to kiss me with an enormous grin. “I was hoping for something like that.”
* * *
After dinner, we watched Top Gun. I rolled my eyes in the right place. Jason had his arm around me and we were snuggled deep into the sofa with a blanket over our laps. Tucker was curled up next to me, sleeping.
The living room was clear. I’d spent last night packing everything into the car. This morning I’d dropped it all off at Goodwill, bracing myself for the punch in the heart, but it never came. And I realized it was actually a relief to let it all go, like I’d been carrying it on my back all this time.
Then I washed my car, because, you know, my car. I couldn’t let Jason see one more unattractive thing about me. I was sure he had a limit somewhere, and my Corolla was enough to make any man run screaming from the garage—not that Jason seemed to care what kind of dumpster fire I was. He’d never met the best version of me, and for some reason he still seemed to want to be here. I was a ghost, wandering the rooms of a museum of the person I used to be, and Jason was like one of the living who could somehow see me and decided to wander the place with me.
I liked that he was willing to wander the place with me.
He twined his fingers in mine on top of the blanket, and I put my head on his shoulder. He pressed a kiss to my forehead, and I could feel him looking down on me long after he finished. I smiled to myself.
