And hers.
I hear the knob jostle and her petite form pops out through the door. She’s struggling under the weight of the box and still manages to look lighter somehow. “Hi!” Her voice is bright, a little breathy.
Rushing forward, I snag the box out of her arms and press a quick kiss to her lips, feeling desperate for her. Relieved. I want to whisk her away, back into the bubble that was just the two of us on the road.
Yeah, everything in our personal lives was shit at the time. But it was us, alone. Not all this other stuff to deal with.
“All okay?” I ask.
“Yeah.”
“He wasn’t there?”
“No.” She shakes her head briskly, reaching forward to press the elevator button. “Just me, burning through there to find my stuff. It’s funny . . .” She glances over her shoulder at the door.
“What?”
“I just . . . I thought I was going back there to get my stuff. That I needed my stuff. But as soon as I walked in there, I wanted to be back out here. With you. Hell, I didn’t want to be here at all today, and I told myself I’d only grab the things that were important. The things that meant something to me. So I walked around looking for them but . . . I didn’t find them.”
“Did that asshole do something to your stuff?”
“No, no. It’s just . . . nothing in there means anything to me. I’ve lived there for a few months and I’m attached to nothing. There was nothing . . . important. Not a single memory of my time with him that I wanted. People say I’m overly sentimental, but I couldn’t find a single thing in there to feel sentimental about.”
Fuck, that’s sad. I don’t like Sterling but Sloane is a different story. And to hear she was living a life that held so little meaning to her fucking hurts. I slide my spare hand over the small of her back reassuringly. “So what am I holding in this box?”
“Oh, that? Yeah. I ended up getting every single thing that was mine and cramming it in there.”
I snort. “I thought none of it mattered?”
She lifts her face, looking like royalty as she tips her chin all high and regal. “It doesn’t, but I’m not leaving a single piece of myself in there. Not my favorite chips. Not a toothbrush. I want to disappear from his life. Just poof,”—she snaps her fingers—“gone, like I never existed in that penthouse. For a while, I felt like he deserved an explanation. But I don’t think he does anymore. That was the only closure I needed.”
She takes a small step closer to me, which is all the confirmation I need. Deep down I know it was never really a choice between the two of us.
But it feels good to be chosen all the same.
It also feels good when I slide my hand down and take a big handful of her Levi’s-clad ass while winking over my shoulder at that red blinking light. Because I know Sterling Woodcock will check these tapes.
31
Jasper
Jasper: How’s my girl? I’ll be back tonight. Meet you at the ranch?
Sloane: Yes. Really good. Especially when you call me that.
Jasper: My girl?
Sloane: Yeah. Haha. Never thought I’d hear that.
Jasper: Sunny, you’ve always been my girl.
Sweat trickles down my back in the quiet studio. There’s no bar, and the floors are too soft for pointe shoes.
And I can’t remember a time when I loved dancing so much.
Possibly as a child before it got competitive and came with criticisms about my body. Before it made my feet so sore I could barely walk.
For over a month, I’ve danced how I want to dance, ignoring every single responsibility and enjoying every moment of independence.
I stand in the skybox and watch every single one of Jasper’s games.
I wait at the exit and feel my heart race when his tall, broad form appears in the doorway.
I revel in the way he comes straight for me, kisses me, and squeezes me against his chest.
I make love to him whenever I want.
I dance when I want.
I eat what I want.
I only take the phone calls I want.
I sleep in until whenever I want.
I spend my hard-earned money the way I want.
I’m finally living for myself and feeling empowered about it.
I feel reborn.
Jasper and I have holed up in the house at the end of the block he owns. It’s right behind Summer’s gym, so I can easily have social time and get my dancing in too.
When Jasper heads out for away games, I have girls’ nights with Willa and Summer, or I have dinner with Harvey, or I help Cade check all the electric waterers on the ranch. Or I stay up too late putting fresh coats of paint in the bungalows Jasper owns.
I’ve watched YouTube videos on how to install new faucets, and Jasper never tells me I can’t or I shouldn’t or that it’s something a man should do.
No one does.
Instead, he walks in, gives the house a little smirk with his hands slung casually in his pockets and tells me how fabulous it looks. What a great job I’ve done. How capable I am.
He makes me believe in myself.
Then he bosses me around in bed—but I like that part.
The rest of it makes me realize how powerless I’ve been trained to be my entire life. It stirs an unfamiliar rage inside of me, one that keeps me from answering any of my dad’s phone calls.
I miss him and yet I’m furious with him. I miss who I thought he was—the relationship I thought we had—and yet this new perspective I’ve gained makes me loathe him at the same time.
I’ve had the time and space to reflect on the controlling way he treats my mom, the way he’s always treated her. The way he talks to serving staff, the way he walks all over anyone he deems beneath him.
Which is alarmingly similar to how he’s treated me. The only difference is that with me he uses a sugary voice and calls me “darling” while he pushes me into the places he wants me. The places that benefit him the most while sucking the soul right out of me.
Without this distance, I’m not sure I’d have even noticed. I’d still be a pretty little mannequin, born and bred to make appearances in his world.
But that era has ended. I do plan to face him at some point, to demand the respect he’s never given me. And every day I get closer. Every day I grow stronger.
Distance has brought perspective, but also an all-new pride in my capability, in my intelligence. Women like Summer and Willa surrounding me bolsters my inner fortitude.
And the support of men like Jasper, Harvey, Rhett, and Cade makes me feel less self-conscious about this new version of myself. The one who does weird dances in the back room of a gym and drinks coffee at 11 p.m. so she can rip out vomit-green shag rug until two in the morning and admire the hardwood floors beneath.
I feel . . . found. I enjoy helping Cade and Harvey at the ranch. I enjoy doing odd jobs. I still love dancing but I’ve reclaimed it for myself. My body doesn’t riot when I dance now, it sings with it.
I don’t know how this all looks for me long-term, but I am tentatively happy. Tentatively optimistic.
I sit on the floor and fold myself over my legs, sinking into the stretch. My body is all warm and buttery and I feel a deep sense of accomplishment, like I’ve flattened another little corner of my scrunched-up life map in my head while I danced around today.
Jasper is heading back from an away game and we’re doing a holiday dinner at Wishing Well Ranch. Christmas is a week away, but there’s a vibe at the ranch that always makes it seem like Christmas.