by Lyssa Layne
Encircled by Smitty’s arm, I roll to my side, my upper body on top of his torso. My body rises and falls with each of his breaths as I watch him sleep. So peaceful, not a worry on his mind right now. I sigh, I wish it could stay like this, but it can’t. It will only wind up for heartbreak again, for both of us. Turning my head, I rest it back on his chest and close my eyes.
Dozing in and out of sleep, memories of Caroline’s accident haunt me. I never meant to hurt her. I was only trying to help. Still, that day was my fault. Smitty lost her because of me. I picture Caroline taking her last breath and I jolt upright, breathing hard and fast. I startle Smitty with my sudden action and he sits up, still half-asleep, reaching for me and pulling me to his chest.
“Ssh, Lo, it’s okay. I got you, I’m right here,” he says, stroking my hair as I cry softly against his chest.
I lean back and wipe my eyes. “That’s the problem. You’re here.” I know it’s cold, but it’s the truth.
He pulls his hands back and looks into my eyes. “How so?”
I crawl out of bed, pacing beside it, trying not to trip over the disarray of clothing. “Jacob, this will never work. I like you, I enjoyed every moment I had with you, but it’s back to reality now and it’s not that easy.”
He swings his feet to the floor and sits up. Reaching out, he grabs my hands and pulls me in front of him, making me stop my movement. “Why are you calling me Jacob?”
I scrunch my nose, confused. “Uh? What are you talking about? It’s your name.”
His thumbs rub the backs of my hands. “Yes, it’s my name, but I introduced myself to you as Smitty. It wasn’t until you ran away that you started calling me Jacob. How’d you know? Did you find something out about me that you didn’t like?”
Internally, I scoff at his statement. Yes, I found out something about him that I didn’t like, but it’s because of me, not him. “I…uh, read it on your luggage tag. What would I not like?” I’m trying to turn the tables, make him give me a reason to end this.
He purses his lips, but doesn’t say anything. Instead, he flips my hand over and spells with his finger T-R-Y. His lifts his gaze to me in the dark room, only lit by the moonlight. “Sloan, please give us a try. We’re both scared to let go of our past, but we can be scared together.”
My stomach quenches and I hate that he’s saying all the right words. I should just tell him the truth, but I don’t want him to hate me. Even if we never see each other again, I can’t bear the thought of him hating me, although he should.
I move my hands to either side of his face and look into his eyes. I can barely make him out through my tears, but as my fingers move over the stubble on his cheeks, my heart breaks even harder. I speak softly and slowly. “Smitty, you have no idea how scared I am. The past has done too much to me to be able to have anything to do with you. I’m so sorry, I never meant to hurt you, but I know you are destined to find someone who can love you the way Caroline did and give you everything you need.”
“No, no, no.” His hands are on top of mine and he grips my fingers tightly. “Sloan, don’t say that. You’re the one that can do that.” Smitty stands, his hands dropping to my hips and pulling me tightly against his body. “We may have only spent a few days together, but Sloan, I’ve fallen for you and I’ve fallen hard. I need you so whatever happened in the past, we can work through it together.”
Why is he making this so hard? Oh, because I can’t just tell him the truth. I wiggle my hips and he doesn’t make it easy, but I manage to pull away from him and walk to the hallway. “I wish we could, but…” I shake my head. “We can’t.”
Smitty walks toward me until we’re both in the doorway. Trapped between him and the doorframe, I avert my eyes, waiting for him to leave. It seems like an eternity before he finally speaks, his fingers on my chin. “Sloan, I lo—”
Quickly, I interrupt him. “Goodbye, Smitty.”
He sighs. “Is this really it?”
I jerk my head away from him, looking back at my bed and trying to fight the tears. “It has to be.”
Without another word, he turns and walks out of my townhouse and out of my life forever. Sliding down the doorframe, I crumple into a heap, hiding my face in my legs as I sob. My mother was right, I was lucky enough to find the love of a lifetime, not once, but twice and I just watched as I let the second one go without so much as a fight.
CHAPTER 23
Smitty
It’s a little after ten, not too late. Jules should still be up, she’s a night owl. I bang on her front door, a bottle of vodka and a sack of lemons in my hand. Lemon drop shots—it’s what Jules and I do when we end a relationship. End a relationship, Sloan is a gone… forever. Definitely time for lemon drops.
I look through the window, the lights are out, but both her and Bentley’s cars are in the driveway. I pound harder. “Come on, Jules! Answer the door.”
The door flings open and Bentley stands there in a t-shirt and a pair of boxers. He flips on the light in the front foyer. It looks like I woke him up. At least I didn’t interrupt something else.
“Hey, Bent. Sorry, is Jules around?”
“Yeah, she’s around, Smitty. She lives here, but it’s after ten and she’s in bed.” I can hear the irritation in his voice and I can take the hint. I hold up my hands and start to apologize when the hall light on the second floor flips on.
“Who is it, babe?” Jules calls from upstairs.
“Smitty,” Bentley answers. I feel like an idiot. I just crashed a married couple’s house. I’ve done it a million times before when Jules was single, but now it’s not cool. Jules walks down the stairs in a tank top and pajama pants. She rubs her eyes and I want to sink into the darkness behind me and disappear into the night.
Jules comes to stand beside Bentley, he slips his arm around her. “What’s up, Smit?”
I hold up the bottle of vodka. “I needed a drinking buddy.”
The two of them exchange a quick glance and Jules nods, reaching out and taking my hand. “Come on in.”
She pulls me past Bentley and I mutter my apology. He responds with “Don’t take anything out on my wife” as Jules walks us downstairs to his man cave and the home of their bar. Walking behind it, she sets out two shot glasses and takes the lemon from me.
Jules carefully cuts the lemons and pours two shots of vodka. “Okay, what’s going on?”
Taking a shot before I even begin, I tell her everything, starting with the youngest Talbott sister coming to my office and ending with the oldest kicking me out of her house, and life, forever. By the time I finish, I’ve already taken four shots, not even bothering with the lemons, and I’m pacing back and forth. The more I talk about it, the angrier I get. My blood pressure spikes and my voice gets louder, I can’t grasp why Sloan closed the door on us.
“I just don’t understand, Jules. She told me about Cooper, we’d agreed to continue things back home, and everything was fine. I told her about Caroline, which I don’t see how she could be upset considering she’d lost her loved one, too. I just don’t get it. We fell asleep and everything was fine. When I woke up, the note was addressed to Jacob and I have no clue how she knew my first name. She said she saw it on my luggage tag, but I had your suitcase. Not that I have anything to hide, but did she Google my name and find out something she didn’t like? I’ve searched every website out there for something on me and I can’t find anything that would make her want to run.”
Jules shrugs, not saying anything, which is totally unlike her. I glance down at the counter and see the first shot she poured still sitting there. She’s nervously twisting a dish towel in her hand.
“Why aren’t you drinking?”
“I’m not in the mood,” she answers, raising her shoulders up and down.
“We always drink together in times like this. What’s going on, Julianna?” I ask, narrowing my eyes. I’ve known her long enough to read between the lines when she acts like this.
She sighs and looks up
at me. “I’m pregnant,” she says in a disheartening voice.
“Does Bentley know?”
She nods slowly.
“And are we happy about this?”
“Yeah, he is, I mean I am too. I’m just… I’m so scared, Smitty.” Jules glances upstairs and lowers her voice as she ends that statement.
I throw back her shot and drop into a barstool. Rubbing my temple, I sigh, this is good. I can focus on Jules now and not worry about my own life spinning out of control. “Did he force you into this?” I ask in my overprotective, brotherly tone.
“No! Of course not! Come on, Smitty, you know Bentley’s not like that.” Jules walks around from behind the bar and sits beside me. “We’ve been talking about it and ever since day one, I was freaked out. You know how my brother and you guys raised me, how am I ever going to raise a kid of my own? Then I see Bentley and Emmy together and I relax. I figure Bentley knows what he’s doing so he can guide me through the whole parenting process and I shouldn’t mess our kid up too much, right?”
I laugh and pat her leg. “True, but Bentley or not, you’ll do a great job. So when’s baby Ladner due?”
A smile takes over her face, making me forget about my sorrow briefly as I see the excitement she has. “I’m ten weeks along. I don’t go to the doctor until next month, but I think I’m due sometime in March.”
“March birthdays, they are the best. How’ve ‘ya been feeling?” Honestly, if Caroline was alive, we would probably have a kid on the way, if not born already. She wanted a huge family so it’s a bittersweet discussion, but it sure beats the other option.
“Ugh, awful! I’ve had morning sickness pretty much from the moment my egg was fertilized. It wasn’t until Sloan pointed it out to me that I actually—”
Maybe it’s the alcohol, but I feel like Jules just tipped me over in my chair. I hold up my hand to stop her. “Wait a minute, when did you meet Sloan?”
Jules shifts uncomfortably in her seat. “Um… at the Cardinals game, when I went to the bathroom.”
Stay calm, Smitty. “So over a month ago, you met her and failed to say anything about it?” I clench my fists, trying to force all the anger in my body to one location.
“I was going to, but I didn’t want you to get upset. After meeting her, Smitty, I’m convinced like you are, that she’s the one for you. The day after the game, I bought a drop-in card to her boot camp and had planned on attending class so I could get to know her better, talk to her about you, but then she left the country and I got pregnant, well, I actually already was, just didn’t know it until she pointed it out. I was going to tell you, I promise, I was.”
I stand up quickly, the barstool toppling over as I do. My voice booms when I tell her, “Stay out of it, Julianna. Don’t even think about tracking her down. It’s over.”
A switch inside me flips and I’m done. I’m chasing after someone who doesn’t want me. Maybe Sloan isn’t the one, maybe I’m just lonely and desperate to replace Caroline. All I know is I’ll no longer be pursuing Sloan Talbott. She wants no part of me in her life so I’ll reciprocate the feeling.
Sloan
Smitty left my house twenty hours ago and I haven’t slept since. Not for the first time, my heart is in a million pieces. I’ve showered, I’ve hit my punching bag, I’ve cried, and I cried some more, but nothing is helping me to feel better. For the past hour, I’ve sat on my couch, staring at my pink leopard suitcase sitting in the exact spot that Smitty left it. It’s the only thing I have left of him right now.
My front door swings open and I hear Gavin call out to me. “Lo, you ready? Mom and Dad are anxious to—” He stops when he walks into the room. I see him glance from the suitcase to me. “Where’d that come from?”
“Don’t ask,” I mutter, standing up and shaking my legs to try and wake them up, that annoying needle feeling pricking my skin.
“Okay, well, you ready? Mom and Dad want to visit before dinner.”
“Do I have to?” I whine. I’m not ready to face their questioning. They’ve never met Oliver before and aren’t a fan of his since in the five years since Cooper died, I’ve spent almost half of them in Europe and no communication with my family during that time.
Gavin shrugs. “I think Boondock Saints is on. We could watch that and ‘forget’ about coming early.”
I smile and hug my brother. “Thank you, Gav.”
“Of course,” he says, plopping down on the couch and flipping on my television. The only reason I have cable is for him since I rarely watch T.V. As I sit beside him, I recognize the film. Smitty and I watched it on the iPad one rainy afternoon in Jamaica. Biting my lip, I fight back the tears and force myself to watch. I’m not sure which is worse, the hundred and ten minute reminder of Smitty or the ten minute interrogation I would have gotten from my parents.
The second the credits roll on screen, I flip off the television and stand up. “Okay, let’s go.”
Gavin looks at me, raising his eyebrows. “You gonna try to hide that you’ve been crying? Mom and Sis will be all over that.”
“Think I can pass it off as jet lag?”
He shrugs. “Sure, that works.”
We don’t talk on the way to my parents. I stare out the window trying to push the memories of Smitty out of my mind. I’ve got to figure out how to move on from him, but how? Everywhere I turn, something’s there to remind me of him.
By the time we get to my parents’ house, Will and Sissy are already there. My mother ushers us to the dining room table, explaining the casserole is going to get cold if she doesn’t serve it soon. As normal, the boys sit on one end of the table, discussing the latest sports’ scores while the women sit on the opposite end. While my mom and sister make plans for shopping next weekend, I push the food around on my plate. Sissy keeps glancing in my direction, squirming in her seat.
Letting out an exasperated sigh, trying to be casual, Sissy asks, “Lolo, who picked you up from the airport?”
All conversation on both ends of the table stop and the attention turns to me.
“So it was you…?”
“Me? What’d I do?” she asks, batting her eyes and trying to look innocent. It always worked on our parents growing up, but I know better.
I drop my fork, making a loud clatter. “You had Smitty pick me up! What were you thinking? I went to Italy to get away from him, to escape the memory, and then you arrange for the first person I see States-side to be him! You’re really unbelievable, Cicely.” By the end of my accusation, I’ve raised my voice almost an entire octave.
Sissy rolls her eyes and throws up her hands. “Oh, come on, Sloan. Who’s being the dramatic one now? It was a ride home,” she says, trying to defend herself.
I stand up, leaning over the table to her. “Bullshit, Sis. I want nothing to do with him or any other man, so stay out of it.”
Not one to back down from a fight, Sissy stands up and bends forward. “Bullshit, Sloan. You want everything to do with him, but you’re too scared and for no reason. He’s not going to hurt you. Let him love you.”
I throw up my hands, not believing the words coming out of her mouth. “Did you forget about his fiancée’s accident? It was my fault, Cicely! Once he finds out, the man will never want to see me again, so let’s just avoid the inevitable.”
Sissy’s words now come out loud and even stronger than before. “You’re being too hard on yourself and you’re not giving Smitty enough credit. Once you tell him, it’ll be water under the bridge and you two can be happy together.”
I scoff. “I don’t know what deranged world you’re living in, but it doesn’t matter.”
My father clears his throat. “What do you mean, Sloan?”
Swallowing the lump that’s formed in my throat, I stand up tall, trying to look more confident than I feel. “I’m moving to Europe… indefinitely.”
My mother and sister gasp while my dad starts to lecture me on why it’s the wrong decision. Oliver and I discussed his idea more before
I left and I was on the fence. Flying home, the plan was that I would spend three months in Europe and three months in the States, but after seeing Smitty and feeling what I did, I know that’s a horrible idea. I need to break free from my past. I erased Cooper, surely I can erase Smitty as well.
Interrupting my father, I look around the table at my family and announce, “I’m leaving in two weeks.”
CHAPTER 24
Smitty
“Pass me the level,” I say to J.P., nodding in the direction of my toolbox. I wipe the sweat off my forehead while I wait for him to hand me the tool.
“Here you go. Thanks for your help, man. I know it’s early for Christmas, but Callum’s going to love this playhouse.”
“Yeah,” I grunt, not even acknowledging his appreciation. It’s been almost two weeks since I gave up on Sloan and I’ve been in a foul mood ever since. It’s safe to say I’m not over her, but I have no other choice.
J.P. and I continue to work in silence, me barking the occasional command to him. The playhouse is the exact replica of Bri and J.P.’s house, just a smaller version—perk of having your contractor build both.
An hour later, we’re both drenched in sweat and I’m dying of thirst. It’s Labor Day weekend and Missouri’s humidity doesn’t let up for another couple weeks. The sliding glass door on their house opens and out walks Bri and their toddler.
“Hey boys, thought you could use something to drink,” Bri says, setting a tray with a pitcher of lemonade and two cups full of ice on the table. Callum toddles over to his father and gives an excited squeal when J.P. picks him up. Bri is right beside her boys, giving them both kisses. I force myself to look away so my pity party doesn’t get any worse. Quickly, I guzzle down two glasses of the icy beverage, enjoying the relief from the heat. I set my cup back down and head toward our project so we can finish before sunset.