This afternoon, I was on my way to Newton to say goodbye to Knox. He’d called earlier to say the missing-person case he was working on was taking him out of town. I’d told him I had to swing by the office first, but I hoped to be to him by noon or one.
“Thanks for driving over,” he said when I walked into the house. “You didn’t have to.”
“I wanted to.” I hugged him hard and looked down at his bag that sat at the bottom of the stairs.
“Can I give you a lift?”
“Nah, Tackle is on his way here now, but thanks.”
I leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “I need to get back to work, but I wanted to see you. Stay safe and I love you.”
Knox studied me in a way that made me uncomfortable. “I love you too, Sloane,” he finally said.
Rather than return to the office right away, I stopped by the apartment to grab a bite to eat. While I didn’t feel much better than I had on Christmas, I did find that if I ate small meals throughout the day, I didn’t feel as nauseous. I’d decided earlier in the week that if my body didn’t sort itself out by today, I’d make an appointment.
“Is there any chance you’re pregnant?” the nurse at my doctor’s office asked when I described my symptoms after sitting on hold for over twenty minutes.
“None.”
“The first I can get you in to see a doctor is in two weeks. If you can’t wait that long, you could always go to an urgent care facility.”
I told her I could wait but if it got worse, that’s what I’d do.
I gathered up what I needed for work, put my laptop in my bag, and took the elevator to the lobby. I stepped off, and my eyes met the very man I’d been trying to avoid. “What are you doing here?” I asked Tackle.
“I’ve been trying to connect with you for two weeks, Sloane. Longer than that, actually.”
“Did it occur to you that I wasn’t interested in connecting with you?”
“I’ve never known you to be rude.”
“Too bad I can’t say the same about you.”
“Come on, Sloane. This conversation is long overdue.”
“What it is, is unnecessary. There’s nothing for us to talk about.”
“I disagree. There are things I need to say.”
I tried to step around him, but Tackle blocked me.
“Do you really want it to be this way between us?” he asked.
“Between us? There isn’t any us. You’re my brother’s best friend. End of story. You’ve never needed to say anything to me in the past. You still don’t.”
“I want to explain.”
“Leave me alone, Tackle.”
He took a deep breath in and let it out slowly. “I’m begging. On your brother’s life if I have to.”
I was tempted to slap his fucking face. “Are you kidding me? Tell me you didn’t just say that. How dare you?”
He hung his head. “I’m sorry. That was too much. It’s just really important to me that we talk. Give me fifteen minutes. That’s all I’m asking.”
I looked at my phone as much to check the time as to buy myself a minute to think. The truth was, there wasn’t much for me to do back at the office. At one point, I’d thought about taking the afternoon off.
“Fifteen minutes,” I said. “That’s it.”
“Thank you.”
We walked over to the elevator, and he pressed the call button. I couldn’t help but remember the last time we were in the same place. I wanted so badly for him to kiss me like he had that day. Forget about talking. Fall into bed the second we walked through the door to the apartment.
When I looked up, Tackle was studying me. The moment our eyes met, he reached over and hit the emergency-stop button, bringing us to a jarring halt. His eyes still boring into mine, he crowded me into the corner.
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he demanded.
I shook my head but didn’t look away.
“About this?” He put his fingertips on my chin and kissed me exactly how he had that day.
Instead of stomping on his foot or biting his lip or kneeing him in the groin—I kissed him back. Not just that, I wrapped my arms around his neck.
“Once wasn’t enough, Sloane. You know it as well as I do.”
Like a bucket of ice water had been poured over me, the moment was ruined. I slid my hands from his neck to his chest and pushed with all my might. “Stop this,” I spat.
His eyes opened wide. “I keep saying and doing the wrong thing when all I want to do is get it right.”
“I can’t be that person, Tackle. I can’t scratch whenever you have an itch.” I reached out and hit the emergency button again, and the elevator began moving.
“What makes you think that’s what I want?”
I walked out when the door opened. “You said you wanted to explain, not ask me questions.”
Tackle didn’t speak again until we were inside the apartment. I pulled out a chair at the dining table and sat down. He did the same.
“That day on the staircase—I guess it was Christmas—you said something about me having a girlfriend. I don’t.”
“I don’t care one way or the other,” I lied.
“I know your brother told you there was a woman—”
“Like I said…”
He put his hand on the edge of my chair and turned it so we were sitting knee to knee. “You wanna know who I was talking about when I told your brother there was a woman who I wasn’t sure felt the same way I did?”
“Absolutely not.” I felt tears threatening. If I let myself cry now, it would be the most humiliating moment of my life.
“You.”
“You’re such a liar.” I got up from the chair. Tackle stood
