Sloan

by Michelle Smith

  I almost face-plant off the bed, fumbling for my phone when it finally rings, but it’s not the person I want it to be. Still, there’s a reason Carson is calling this late, and hopefully it’s not to chew my ass out or tell me I’ve ruined my chances with Lizzy.

  I don’t even bother to pretend he doesn’t already know what happened today. If there’s anything I’ve learned about Lizzy and her brother, it’s that they’re close. Maybe even best friends.

  I don’t even waste breath on a standard greeting. “Please tell me she’s okay and this isn’t completely fucked up.”

  He sighs into the phone. “I don’t know the answer to that, man.” I close my eyes, the breath I didn’t realize I was holding now escaping in one long sigh as he continues. “I can tell you she’s okay. I tucked her into bed about half an hour ago and she’s asleep. She doesn’t know I’m calling you.”

  I sit up in the bed, flipping the lamp on. “You have to believe me Carson, I wouldn’t do anything to hurt her. She means everything to me.”

  There’s silence on the line, almost too long, but then he speaks. “She told me what happened at the bar, all the phone calls you’ve left her today. She showed up at the ballpark a mess. For what it’s worth, after everything she’s told me, I believe you. I think she might too.” For the first time today, my spirits lift. Maybe this isn’t as fucked up as I thought it was.

  “She’s hurt though, angry, confused, and she said she needs time to figure things out. The Thrillers play a day game tomorrow and then we’re traveling for the next week. Liz is coming on the road trip with me.” As quickly as hope bloomed now it takes the proverbial nose dive.

  “She’s running from me.”

  “She needs time to sort this mess out and she needs space to do it. My advice is to keep doing what you’re doing. She needs to know what that chick said to her isn’t true. The easiest way to make her see it is for you to show her how you feel. I know my sister. She’ll come around. She just needs time to process everything that’s happened.”

  “Why are you helping me?” I can’t help but ask. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful, but I expected you to show up on my doorstep to kick my ass.” I would have gladly accepted it too if it meant Lizzy would come back.

  Carson’s laugh filters through the phone. “I told you. I think you’re good for her. I see how happy she is with you and despite whatever this woman said to her, I know this is a misunderstanding that hopefully you can get past. And besides, I would have kicked your ass already but I don’t know where you live.”

  His joke makes me chuckle. I tamp it down, my mood anything but light. “I promise you. I’ll do everything in my power to make this right. I’ve never met someone like her before, never felt as strongly for a woman as I do Lizzy. I’m not letting her go without a fight.”

  Carson pauses on the line before he speaks. “Do you love her?” It’s a simple question, one I hadn’t figured out the answer to until earlier today, when this whole shit storm started.

  “I think we both know the answer to that, but I’d like to tell her before I tell anyone else, especially her brother.”

  “Fair enough. Listen, I need to go. I called because I didn’t want you freaking out about not hearing from her. I wanted you to know she’s safe.”

  “Thank you for calling me. And Carson?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Take care of her for me.”

  “Always.”

  I disconnect the call with a little more hope than I started with. Call it a hunch or a feeling—fuck, call it whatever you want—but I know deep in her heart, Lizzy believes me. She’s got to. And as much as I don’t want to do it, I need to back off and give her space. Hopefully she’ll realize I’m worth the hassle Bridgett created.

  Lord knows, she’s worth fighting for.

  ***

  Four fucking days later, she still hasn’t returned any of my calls or text messages, and I’m going out of my mind. I thought for sure she would have come around by now, or at the very least, acknowledged my attempts to reach her.

  Clearly, I was wrong.

  I’ve called her a few times each day she’s been gone, urging her to call me and let me explain everything, to reassure her that when things ended with Bridgett months ago, that was the end of it. I’ve told her how much I’ve missed her, and how miserable I’ve been since she cut off contact. But I also told her I understand why she needs room to think. Even though what Bridgett told her was a lie, I know how it feels to feel betrayed, and I understand her need for space. I hate leaving these messages on her voicemail, but what other choice do I have? I’ve checked the Thrillers schedule and the team won’t be back until Sunday. This is sure to be the longest damn week of my life.

  It’s a slow Wednesday in the office, or maybe it’s my inability to concentrate that makes it seem like the day is dragging. At any rate, I’m not feeling it today, so I take the rest of the day off and head home. Maybe a walk on the beach will do me good. I can clear my head and figure out my next move. Lizzy will be home in a few days and hopefully she’ll agree to meet with me. Then I can apologize in person for what Bridgett did, and put things right again. I don’t know what I’ll do if that’s not possible.

  When I turn the corner onto my street, I notice a car parked in front of my house. When I get closer, I realize it’s Lizzy’s car. And then I notice her. The most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen, four days earlier than I expected to see it.

  My Lizzy, sitting on my front step in the shade.

  I park the car in the drive, foregoing the garage, and hustle my way to the front door. She’s beautiful, sitting there in denim shorts and a Thrillers t-shirt. But she still hasn’t moved from her spot as she watches me walk up the path to her.

  I go with simple. “Hi.”

  She stands, twisting her hands in front of her in a nervous gesture. “Hi.”

  We stand there, staring at each other. It’s killing me for her to be right in front of me and not be able to touch her. She opens her mouth to speak but closes it almost as quickly. Without a word, she walks forward until she’s standing right in front of me. And then her arms are around my waist, squeezing tight, and mine wrap around her and squeeze right back.

  At least for this moment, all is right in my world.

  Chapter Twenty

  Elizabeth

  He feels good in my arms, but I can’t let my need to touch him derail the talk we need to have. Pulling back, I look up into those gorgeous blue eyes gazing back at me. Eyes I missed, along with the rest of him. “We need to talk.”

  He nods, taking my hand in his, and not letting go until we get into the house. The familiar smells of him and his home surround me, washing me in sadness. I’ve missed this place but I’ve missed this man even more.

  “I was planning to head down to the beach, but we can stay here if you want.” He stands by the door, almost unsure, waiting for me to decide.

  “The beach sounds good.” I give him a small smile. “You should change first though.”

  He looks down at his suit, and gives me a small smile back. “You’re probably right. I’ll be back in a minute.” He starts up the stairs before he stops midway to look back down at me. “I’m glad you’re here.” He doesn’t give me a chance to respond before he dashes the rest of the way up and into his room.

  While I’m waiting for him, I walk to the bookshelf, picking up the framed picture I’ve admired from afar the few times I’ve been here. It’s a heavy silver frame surrounding a snapshot of four smiling boys, each with blue eyes like their mother’s. They look to be in their late teens, maybe early twenties, all in swim trunks and dripping wet on the dock I stood on with Sloan a few weeks ago. Sloan stands on the end, Cade next to him, followed by Ash and Nik, all with their arms draped over each other’s shoulders.

  “We had a lot of fun that day.” I hear his voice as he walks up behind me. “We’d been swimming all day and mom had come down to bring us extra food since Ash an
d Nik had already eaten everything we’d brought with us. She snapped this picture before she left.”

  I put the frame back in its place. “I can’t imagine the grocery bill she must have dealt with.”

  Sloan lets out a small laugh. “Trust me, you don’t want to know.” He takes my hand and leads me through the kitchen, then out the patio door and across the deck to the beach. We stop far enough back from the water to not get wet and Sloan takes a seat in the sand, me sitting right beside him.

  He starts to speak, but I hold up a hand, stopping him. “I have a lot to say and if you go first I may not get it all out.” He nods and sits there quietly, waiting on me to start. It takes a couple tries, but the words finally start flowing.

  I can’t meet his eyes when I speak, instead choosing to gaze out over the ocean. “Like you, there’s a reason I decided not to do serious relationships anymore. When I first started this personal assistant gig for my brother, I met a lot of baseball players, but there was one in particular who caught my attention. His name was Patrick, and he played on the same minor-league team with Carson. We went out a few times, and after a while, it became serious. Eventually, I fell head over heels for Patrick, and spent the next two years in a relationship with him. One night, the guys were playing a home game, and I went—like I always did. I never ever missed a home game. After it was over, I waited for Patrick in the players parking lot like I always did. When he finally came out of the building, he was with this girl I didn’t recognize, and he had his arm draped over her shoulder. They were laughing and talking as they walked out of the building together. When he saw me waiting by his truck, he whispered in her ear, kissed her on the cheek, and she went to sit at a picnic table on the side of the building.” Even years later, I hate that the memory still brings up those feelings of hurt and anger.

  “I stood there for twenty minutes while Patrick told me the girl waiting in the shadows for him was his ex-girlfriend—the one he’d broken up with before he met me. I listened to him tell me he’d never gotten over her, and when they had reconnected three months before that night, he knew he still loved her and wanted to be with her. He told me he knew he needed to do the right thing by breaking up with me, but he could never bring himself to go through with it. And you know what his reason was? He strung me along for months until the season was almost over because he didn’t want to upset Carson and the team dynamic.” I give a humorless scoff.

  “His lame excuse was all for nothing though because that’s exactly what happened anyway. When Carson came home later that night after hitting the bar with the guys, he found me crying on the sofa. I told him what had happened. Carson was furious. I said I’d handle it, but his stubborn ass didn’t listen. They got into a fight at practice the next day after he confronted Patrick.”

  Sloan interjects. “What an asshole. I hope Carson kicked the shit out of him.”

  His comment draws a small laugh from me. “Not as much as he wanted to. He landed a punch or two. The other guys pulled them apart before he could do any real damage. Coach was pissed. Management was pissed. They finished the last few weeks of the season incident free, and during the off-season Carson was traded to another team in a multiplayer deal. They never said it had anything to do with the altercation, but rumor around the clubhouse was that Patrick had told management it was either ‘him or me.’ Since he was the bigger prospect at the time, they let Carson go. I felt horrible about it for a long time but it turned out to be a good thing. The team that picked Carson up in the trade brought him up to the majors, and he hasn’t looked back since.”

  “So, it all worked out.”

  “It did.” I turn to face him. “Sloan, when Bridgett cornered me at the bar and told me what happened—”

  “It didn’t happen. Lizzy, you know I would never do that to you.” Sloan interrupts again, this time taking my hands in his.

  I let out a sigh and continue. “When Bridgett told me her version of what happened, I freaked out. All I could think of was Patrick and what he’d done and how I couldn’t go through this same thing again with you, because I knew this time it would be so much harder. I realize now it was foolish of me to believe anything she said. She wanted to hurt you again, and I let her do it. She was obviously lying, and I think if the situation hadn’t been so similar to the one I’d already gone through with him, it wouldn’t have affected me as much. I overreacted, Sloan. But that’s no excuse. I shouldn’t have run. I should have come to you.”

  He sighs, shaking his head. “I have no idea why she told you what she did. When we ran into her at the coffee shop, she asked to come by my office and discuss something important with me. I wanted no part of her, so I blew her off. She called the office a few times and asked to speak with me, but Sophie would tell her I was in a meeting or on a call, anything to get rid of her. The day I met with your brother, she showed up unannounced. Sophie told her to wait in the lobby, but Bridgett barged in anyway. She gave me a bunch of bullshit about how she was sorry she cheated on me, and how she was still in love with me. She said she wanted me back, like we could just pick up where we left off.”

  My eyes go wide with the revelation. She’s the one who left him. It never occurred to me she would want him back, though I understand why she would. Sloan is an amazing man, one she foolishly deemed unworthy and tossed aside, and then had the nerve to think she could waltz back in and he’d be ready to take her back. I can feel anger replacing my sadness, but Sloan slides his hand across my cheek, bringing my attention back to him.

  “I never touched her in that office. Not that day and not any other day. And I told her I wouldn’t take her back because I realized I never loved her the way I should have. I never loved her the way I do you.”

  My heart ramps up a notch and my breath seems to catch in my throat. Did he just tell me he loves me?

  ‘What are you saying?” My words are barely a whisper and I can’t tear my eyes away from his deep blue gaze.

  “I love you, Elizabeth. Somewhere along the way, I fell completely and totally in love with you, and I would never do anything to hurt you. When you left, it killed me not to hear your voice, see your beautiful face, and kiss these beautiful lips.”

  His gaze drops to my mouth, but I make the first move. I lean into his kiss which is gentle and almost timid at first as if testing the waters, but memory takes over as his lips and tongue slide over mine. When he pulls away, he rests his forehead against mine. “I missed you.”

  “I missed you too. I’m so sorry. I overreacted and ran without giving you a chance to explain. And I promise I won’t run from you again.” I take a deep breath. “I love you too, Sloan, and I want to make this work.”

  In all the time I’ve known him, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Sloan smile this big. “You love me?” I smile and nod my head yes, but he asks me again. “You love me?”

  This time I laugh and answer, “Yes. I tried hard not to, but you’re irresistible.”

  He laughs along with me and kisses my lips again. “I tried not to fall in love with you too, but I never stood a chance.”

  He takes my lips again, but this time the kiss is anything but playful. It’s sensual, meaningful, and holy hell is it erotic. He pulls me into his lap, his hands running up and down my back, but it’s not enough. I crave skin to skin contact with this man. It’s been far too long since we’ve been together.

  “Sloan,” I mumble around his kisses.

  “Yeah?”

  “Maybe we should take this inside.” He breaks the kiss, remembering where we are.

  “You’re probably right. I don’t want my neighbors to see me get you naked.” He laughs and helps me slide off his lap to stand, and he gets up to stand beside me. When we get inside, he barely gets the patio door closed before he has me pressed up against the cool glass. He lifts me up, my legs gripping around his waist, and he carries me across the room. We wind up at the sofa, where he puts me down next to him, and slowly starts undressing me, like he’s unwrapping
a precious gift. Not to be left behind, I help him tug off his shirt. One article at a time, we undress each other until we’re naked and he sits back on the sofa, pulling me down onto his lap. My legs straddle his waist, the steely softness of his erection bumping against my pussy. He takes my mouth in another heated kiss sending flashes of desire across my body. He starts the slow kisses down my jaw and neck and I know I’m done for.

  “Shit, I need to get a condom.” He says between kisses, but there’s no way I’m letting him move from this spot. It’s been far too long since he’s been inside me.

  “I’m on the pill. You don’t have to wear one. I mean, if you don’t want to.”

  He stops kissing me, looking up into my eyes as I bite my lip in nervousness. “Are you sure?”

  I let out the breath I was holding. “I love you Sloan. I’m absolutely sure.”

  He smiles at me, lifting me up far enough to gain access, and slips his cock through my slickness. Holding me steady, I take him in inch by inch. We both let out a groan of pleasure when he’s seated all the way inside, the feeling of bare skin touching bare skin fucking incredible.

  “Fuck, you’re wet baby.”

  “It’s what you do to me.”

  He grips me by the waist and begins to move, sliding us together, then pushing us apart until only the tip stays inside. He does it again, and I take over the movement. He holds me close to him, sucking one of my nipples into his mouth followed by the other while I slide across his dick, riding him, continuing the pace he started. I lean forward, grabbing the back of the couch with both hands on either side of his head, and use the leverage to take longer, deeper strokes.

  “Fucking hell.” The words slip from his lips and I know it feels as good for him as it does me.

  He reaches down between us, his fingers finding my clit, and my body tightens in response to his firm touch. He watches me, his gaze focused on mine as my orgasm hits. My body grips him tightly, my movements erratic before he takes over, keeping up the pace for his race to the finish. It only takes a few strokes with me clenching around him for him to find his release too. He bucks up into me a few times, then stills, his cock pulsing inside me. A groan slips from his lips as he continues to grind into me, and it’s the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever heard. Griping me to him, he holds me tight with his face pressed to my rapidly beating heart, his cock still hard and twitching inside me. He looks up at me, sliding his fingers across my face to move the hair stuck to my sweaty skin. He has the most beautiful combination of love and lust in his eyes, and I reach up to stroke his cheek. My touch affects him, his head turning into my palm and his eyes closing on a contented sigh.