by Abby Jimenez
I wrapped Tucker’s leash around my hand. “Yes…”
“I have a package for you. You need to sign.”
“A package?” I scribbled my name on the digital screen. I wasn’t expecting anything. Kristen maybe?
I took the flat white envelope and let myself into my apartment, examining the outside. There was no name on it.
Kristen. She was always sending me something crazy. Last week she’d mailed me a crocheted tissue holder that looked like a vagina. She was so weird.
I dropped my keys on the credenza and sat on the sofa to open it. Tucker stood in front of me, tail wagging like there were dog treats inside it. “Maybe it’s something for you, huh?” I grinned at him as I pulled out the contents.
And then my smile fell.
I knew the handwriting on the paper instantly, even before I read a word.
A hard lump built in my throat as I scrolled through the letter.
I reached back into the envelope and a shaking hand pulled out the real reason for the delivery.
Two front-row, VIP tickets to a Jaxon Waters concert at 7:00 tonight.
Chapter 42
Sloan
♪ fresh bruises | Bring Me the Horizon
I read the letter Zane had sent me a hundred times. Stared at those four words at the top of the page until they were seared behind my eyelids. Jason lied about Lola.
Zane and Courtney were close.
The letter went on to explain that Courtney had told Zane she had been there the night Lola showed up. That Jason had never been alone with Lola except for the few seconds when she’d walked through his room to answer the door for me. Jason had taken a sleeping pill and had no idea Lola had even been there until he woke up.
Then Zane said that Lola had a breakdown and hurt herself, and Jason was only on that motorcycle to take her to rehab. She told me nothing in the tabloids was true and that Jason had told Ernie explicitly to let me believe it if I asked.
Zane wouldn’t lie. She was the most brutally honest person I knew. And if Jason knew she’d done this without his permission, he’d fire her. She was risking her job to send me that message.
I couldn’t breathe.
Why? Why would he make that up? Why would he say something so horrible to me and want me to think so many awful things about him?
I immediately called him. The first time in three months. It went straight to voicemail.
Jason had never, in the entire six months I’d known him, had his phone off. Ringer down, yes. Phone off, no.
My number was blocked.
So Jason didn’t want to talk to me. He didn’t want me calling him. He was here, in LA, and he hadn’t come looking for me. And he’d never once reached out to me in the last three months. So why was Zane trying to get me to go over there? He clearly didn’t want to be in a relationship with me if he’d fabricate a story like this just to get out of it. He’d gone to extremes to make sure it was over between us.
And now I was angry.
When he’d first done what he did, I was devastated. Then, when I saw the pictures with Lola, I’d been hurt and disappointed. I’d spent the last few months in various states of numb confusion. But now that I knew that he’d lied to me, I was furious.
So he’d wanted to break up and he’d thought destroying me would be the easiest way to do it?
I called Zane. I thought it was going to voicemail, it rang so long before she picked up. “Hey, what’s up?” she whispered.
Jason must be there.
There was something heart wrenching about knowing he might be just on the other end of that line. Maybe I’d even hear him. My knees suddenly felt weak. I hated that he still had that effect on me, that I still loved him to stupidity.
“Why would you send me that, Zane? He obviously doesn’t want to see me.”
“Just…can you give me one second? Just hold on.”
I heard shuffling. Then a few moments later she came back. “Are you coming?” she asked, her voice low.
“No. He doesn’t want me there.”
“Yes he does,” she said. “He’s fucked up, Sloan.”
I laughed, incredulous. “He’s fucked up? He lied about sleeping with another woman and then he put me on a plane and never spoke to me again.”
Her voice went lower. “Look. Just come. I don’t know what the fuck his problem is. All I know is Jason loves you.”
I shook my head. “I think Jason loved me once, Zane. But he’s Jaxon now.”
I hung up on her.
My eyelid bounded into a full-scale attack. I paced in my living room with a palm to my eye, breathing hard.
Why? Why, Jason? I thought about those last few days and what might have made him do it. He’d said he felt like he was ruining my life—so to fix it he’d ruined my life? I scoffed.
Maybe I was too much maintenance. Maybe those weeks I’d been in Ely had shown him how much taking care of me on the road had taken a toll on him. Maybe he’d figured that I was unhappy anyway and he didn’t have the energy for it and letting me believe what I saw was a win-win. He did say he wasn’t in a place to be a boyfriend. I guess he thought he was doing me some kind of favor.
The only thing I knew for sure was this: He didn’t love me. A man who loved me wouldn’t do this. He wouldn’t light a match and set my world on fire.
My phone rang. It was Kristen, probably calling to tell me they were outside. I picked up and she started talking immediately. “Okay, don’t be mad.”
“Oh God, what?” I breathed. I couldn’t deal with Kristen’s shenanigans right now. I couldn’t deal with anything. I didn’t want to go anymore, I didn’t want to stay. God, I hated my life.
“Adrian’s on his way up there alone to get you himself.”
I groaned. “Are you kidding me?”
“Everyone was getting out of the car to come up and he was all like, ‘Stay here,’ in this really deep, very authoritative voice. It was a super alpha male move. Even Josh froze up.”
I could hear Josh laughing in the background.
Someone knocked on my door.
“I’m going to kill you guys,” I hissed, hanging up on her.
I slumped in the middle of my living room with palms to my eyeballs. How was I going to get through tonight? I couldn’t do this.
My hands were shaking. Not because my blind date was standing outside, but because of Jason. I took a deep breath and tried to steady myself.
Adrian knocked again. That playful, musical knock that friends do when they come over.
“Hold on, one second,” I called, hearing the trembling in my voice.
I took another deep breath. I shoved the envelope with the tickets and Zane’s letter into my purse and smoothed down my dress, took one more moment to compose myself, and then I opened the door.
The man standing in my hallway wore a dark-green V-neck sweater with the sleeves rolled up and jeans. He was holding a piñata shaped like a cupcake. “Hi,” he said, giving me a dazzling smile. “I’m Adrian. You must be Sloan.”
Well, Kristen was right. Adrian Copeland was gorgeous. Green eyes, close-clipped beard, a nice body.
I was 100 percent not interested.
He held out the piñata. “I was told to bring this up?” he said, looking amused.
I rolled my eyes. “Of course you were,” I mumbled, taking it and setting it on a table inside the door.
Tucker spilled out into the hallway, jumping excitedly on Adrian’s legs. He crouched down to pet him. “Hey there, little guy.” He smiled up at me while he ruffled my dog.
He was checking me out. Big-time. He wasn’t even trying to hide it. His eyes dropped down my body and came back up with a grin.
A fierce blush roared up my neck.
The letter had me so flustered I couldn’t even think straight. All I could think about was what Zane had said. I wasn’t in the right headspace to deal with what I’d just learned, let alone this stranger who was trying to date me, here in my doorway, shame
lessly ogling me and playing with my dog—Jason’s dog—Jason, who was here in my city and hadn’t come to see me because he broke up with me and didn’t want me anymore.
My other eyelid twitched once, just to remind me that today could still get worse.
“I’m sorry,” I said, reaching for Tucker’s collar. “He gets really excited when people come over. Tucker, let’s go.”
“It’s fine,” Adrian said. “I like dogs.” He let Tucker lick his chin.
God. I was two seconds from maniacal cackling.
Tucker finally finished with him and ran back into the apartment and Adrian stood.
Time to get this over with.
I grabbed my purse and slung it over my shoulder. Then I stepped out into the hallway and closed the door.
“I’m glad I have you alone for a minute,” Adrian said from behind me as I bolted the lock. “I actually wanted to talk to you before we went down.”
“Okay.” I turned to him.
My eyelid was having a seizure. I squeezed it shut and stood there looking up at him with one eye. I was positive I looked insane. My face was bright red and I had to cross my arms and tuck my hands into my armpits to keep them from visibly shaking.
But he smiled at me anyway. “I heard some of Kristen’s phone call with you earlier. I know you just broke up with someone and this date’s a little jarring for you.”
Oh God. I shook my head. “It’s not—”
He put up a hand. “It’s fine.” He gave me a smile. “I’m only in town for a few days and I’m just grateful for the opportunity to have dinner in Los Angeles with a beautiful California woman—even if she is unavailable. I just wanted to let you know that this is a zero-expectation situation. I’ve already been told that if I even so much as shake your hand tonight without your express consent, I’ll be punched in the forehead.”
I snorted, my face going soft, and I tucked my hair behind my ear. “Josh is really protective of me.”
“It wasn’t Josh.” He gave me an arched eyebrow. “So does Kristen hit hard, or…”
He actually managed to draw a laugh from me.
Adrian dipped his head to look me in the eye. “Look, let’s just have a good time,” he said. “Let me buy you some drinks and see if I can’t make you have some fun. Deal?”
He waited patiently for my reply. I relaxed a little. Taking the pressure off this date was at least something. My eyelid took mercy on me and relented and I gave him a weak smile. “Okay.”
He nodded toward the stairs. “Ladies first.”
We started walking. “You know, I have to be honest,” he said, holding the door to the stairwell for me. “Your pictures don’t do you justice.”
I scoffed. “Let me guess, Coachella?”
“Uh, no, actually.” He jogged down the steps behind me. “Headgear?”
I pushed the door to the sidewalk open, laughing.
Kristen and Josh were parked a few feet away. Adrian ran ahead and opened my car door for me. He put a hand to my back as I got in. I didn’t like it. I didn’t like any man touching me who wasn’t Jason.
Jason would never touch me again.
It was like I could feel him in the air now that he was here in California. He was all around me, like the sun on my face. It actually made me peer out the window, looking for him.
I let out a long breath, trying to release him from my mind.
It didn’t work.
Chapter 43
Jason
♪ Somebody Else | The 1975
It wasn’t hard to find the ones that were Sloan’s. I just looked for the paintings that looked like photographs.
Three hung in the gallery, and they all had sold signs on them, marked by red dots. I stood there, staring, studying every inch of the artwork, making out almost-invisible brushstrokes.
She touched these. Her hands had created them, her eyes had looked on every inch of canvas, and the art had sprung from her beautiful mind.
Pride filled me. I took a deep breath. I missed her. I missed her every second.
The click of heels on wood turned me to the approaching gallery curator, a polished gray-haired woman in glasses and red lipstick. “You must be the gentleman who called.”
I looked back at the paintings. “Yes. You said you had a Sloan Monroe available?”
“It’s in the back. Your timing is excellent. It was just dropped off. These don’t stick around for long.”
My heart swelled. I couldn’t take my eyes from the wall. “She’s very talented,” I breathed.
I hoped she had used the gift card I’d given her to buy the supplies to make these. I wanted to be a part of this. I wanted to be a part of it all.
It wasn’t over. It would never be over. At least not for me.
It had been ninety-four days since I’d last seen her, and I was nothing but a husk of myself now. My world was dim. All was faded. And the more time that passed, the darker it got. Life without her was a sensory deprivation of my soul.
My tour had brought me back to California. I’d been braced for how hard it would be to breathe the same air as her. Look at the same sky. But then it was hard everywhere, wasn’t it?
I hadn’t told anyone where I was going when I left the hotel. I’d had to sneak out a service exit by the dumpsters in a hat and sunglasses, evading Zane like a zoo animal that had escaped its keeper. She and Ernie would have advised against it. But I’d had to come see these.
I’d told Ernie if the paintings didn’t sell within the first week of going up to buy them for me—without Sloan knowing, of course. But they’d sold. She was gifted. She didn’t need a guardian angel.
I’d been busy too. Besides the tour, I’d actually been able to write. I’d composed six songs during my three weeks in Ely while my hand was healing. And they were good.
They were good because they were about her.
Nobody would ever hear any of them. If I put these on an album, Sloan would know they were about her, and I could never let her know how destroyed I was. Those songs were just for me.
No, the next new thing I recorded would be some pop garbage written by a hired gun my label picked. And I couldn’t even muster up the passion to give a shit.
The clicking heels led me to the back room and when the woman went to remove the brown paper from the canvas to show it to me, I put up a hand. “I’ll take it. I don’t need to see it.”
I couldn’t spare the extra minutes it would take to wrap it back up. Every second I was here was playing with fire.
Sloan lived in the loft upstairs. Ernie had told me. He was the one who’d told me where to find her artwork too. I’d asked him to take care of her once she was back in LA, and he had.
He also told me she hated me. That she couldn’t stand to even hear my name.
I’d accomplished everything I’d set out to do. She rued the day she met me, just like I’d needed her to. And my success was my greatest regret.
I finished my purchase. With any luck I could sneak back into my room without Zane ever knowing I’d been gone. I was walking to the door with the painting under my arm when I froze.
Kristen and Josh were parked in a black Honda just outside the gallery.
I darted behind a sculpture in the entry—and just in time.
She came out of nowhere, like the sun peeking through the clouds. If I’d been two seconds faster, I would have crashed right into her on the sidewalk.
Sloan.
Everything slowed.
She was just twenty feet away. We were separated by nothing but a sheet of glass.
My heart was a thumping bass in my rib cage.
I stared out at her from my blind. She looked even more beautiful than I remembered. She had on a red dress with bright-red lipstick. Her hair was down around her shoulders, and she was tan. She looked healthy, like she was taking care of herself like I’d hoped she would.
She was smiling at someone behind her, out of my line of sight. A beaming, radiant smile like the on
es she used to give me when I’d sing to her.
My heart broke a thousand times every second that I looked at her.
I was going to go out there.
I didn’t even have control over it. My body had taken on some involuntary reflex in response to her sudden presence. The pull was so strong it felt like my very existence had just tipped in her direction and everything was sliding toward her. I took a step…
And then some fucking guy was opening her car door for her and helping her in with a hand on her back.
Chapter 44
Jason
♪ If I Get High | Nothing But Thieves
I don’t even know how I made it back to the venue in one piece.
I’d tempted Fate by going to the gallery, and Fate had called my bluff. I was fucking destroyed.
Seeing her with somebody else tore through my heart like a hot knife. It took the wind right out of my lungs.
Men had always looked at her, even when I held her hand. I went mad thinking of someone else touching her. Of her smiling at their jokes or cooking them dinner.
I’d been following the updates to The Huntsman’s Wife. I checked it every day. It was the only direct link I still had to her. She’d started posting regularly while she was living in Ely and she was cooking the game Dad had in the freezer. But a few weeks ago she’d posted a recipe for wild boar.
Dad didn’t hunt boar.
I didn’t think much of it at the time. I thought maybe it was something old, from when Brandon was still alive, that she hadn’t gotten around to sharing. But now that I knew she was dating, my mind went crazy wondering if she was seeing someone who hunted, obsessing about who she cooked for, who she was spending time with.
I knew she hadn’t been ready to date when she met me, so I’d hoped, for my own selfish reasons, that she would stay single for a while, that maybe we had been a special circumstance. It was the only thing that had kept me halfway sane all these months. But she wasn’t waiting. She was seeing someone.