He kisses my neck again, and I take it as his agreement. With a big hand on my hip, he rolls me to face away from him and molds himself to my back. “Is this spooning?” he murmurs in my ear.
I can’t stop the giggle from rising in my throat. “Yep.”
“You’re my first spoon, Sloane McCormick.”
“You’re my first ride.”
He bites my shoulder. “You liked it.”
“I did.”
“Any time you wanna ride my cock, it’s at your service, princess.” Said anatomy twitches at my ass.
“You know just how to ruin a moment, don’t you, Fenton?”
He chuckles in my ear and pulls me closer. “It’s Fenton now, is it? Yeah, well, I told you I’m a dick. You should’ve believed it.”
“And I told you...” I let the unspoken remainder of the sentence hang in the darkness between us. I don’t actually want to kick him out. This is the closest I’ve felt to another human being in a long time. Maybe ever. And my body’s purring with the pleasure he’s shown me and still providing.
“You did. Shutting up.”
“Thank you.” I snuggle back into him, warmth flowing through my limbs.
Tomorrow we’ll sever these ties, but just for tonight, I get to enjoy the feeling of being held in a guy’s arms. A very hot, very wonderful guy who I can’t keep.
Chapter 8
Bo
“Happy birthday, Sloane!” two chirpy female voices sing out.
Fuck me!
I roll off the far side of the bed and squeeze under it just as Sloane’s bedroom door swings wide.
I’d heard the sound of voices downstairs, and I should’ve gotten up and dressed and out of here, but I couldn’t bring myself to leave Sloane’s bed. Not when holding her felt so right.
Not when leaving her meant saying goodbye.
I watch two pairs of feet enter the room and stand inside the door. Then the voices break into a round of “Happy Birthday.”
It’s sweet, but I fear Sloane’s too freaked out about my presence under the bed to appreciate it. I detect the scent of something sweet and chocolatey and the wax of a burning candle.
“Oh my God, you guys. Thank you.”
I love the rust in Sloane’s voice. It’s so damn sexy. She blows and the light scent of smoke reaches my nostrils. One candle, probably. In a cupcake. Or maybe a muffin.
“Happy eighteenth, sweetie,” her aunt says. “I know this isn’t where you thought you’d spend it, but I want you to know how much we love having you here.”
Sloane doesn’t answer at first—I’m guessing she’s holding back tears. “Thanks,” she says.
“Any plans for today?”
“Um… yeah. I’m going to meet up with Bo, my date from last night. We’re going to hang out all day. Maybe tonight, too, I’m not sure.”
My gut tightens. I’d be satisfied if I thought it was true, but I realize immediately, I’m her cover.
For the job she plans to pull today.
And she’s right, I should just walk away and leave her to it. Walk away and never look back.
But I don’t like the idea of her pulling this job on her own. I think she’s capable as shit, but she’s a human. Fragile. If she gets shot by cops, she won’t recover.
I just don’t like it.
“That’s great,” her aunt says from above the bed. “Well, maybe tomorrow we can celebrate your birthday together? Go out to dinner or something?”
“Yeah, thanks. That sounds fun.”
“Do you want your present now?” Rikki asks.
“Oh, you didn’t have to get me a present,” Sloane protests.
I’m suddenly pissed as hell I didn’t think to get her one. I knew it was her birthday today—I saw it on her license Thursday. But that seems like a million years ago. Before an ocean of change washed between us.
Before I knew what her pain consisted of.
Loss, but also unworthiness. She feels like an outsider—doesn’t think she belongs here in this townhouse, with these people. Sounds like she never belonged with her dad, either.
And all I’ve done is grind in that sentiment a little deeper.
Regret washes through me. No wonder she let me push her around—feeling blameworthy resonates for her.
“We got you a present,” Rikki tells her. “Should we save it for dinner tomorrow?”
“Yeah, let’s save it for the celebration,” Sloane says. The bed shifts as she climbs out of it. “I can’t wait.” Her bare feet move toward the bathroom. “I’m going to jump in the shower. Thank you for my birthday muffin.” She’s trying to get them out of the room. Clever girl.
“All right, sweetie. There are more muffins downstairs if you want. Rikki made a whole batch.”
“Thank you, Rikki. It’s delicious.”
Her bedroom door shuts, and Sloane rushes over to the side of the bed where I’m sitting up.
“Oh my God.” She covers her mouth with her hand and drops to her knees in front of me, stifling giggles. “I can’t believe you rolled off the bed so fast!”