Sloane took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “This isn’t easy to say, and I’d rather that after I have, you don’t ask me any other questions.”
“I can’t make that promise.”
“I didn’t think so.”
“Tell me anyway.”
“I wanted you to be, you know, my first.”
My already hard cock started to throb.
“That excites you?” she asked, perhaps noticing my accelerated breathing and the way I had to readjust my jeans.
“It does. Like you wouldn’t believe.”
She shrugged one shoulder. “We’re done with that. You know and I know. We can check it off the list.”
Her words caused an ache in my chest. “We’ve barely scratched the surface, Sloane.”
My eyes met hers, challenging her to say otherwise. I never dreamed she would.
“I’m done, Tackle. I’m not interested in more.”
I was stunned. “How can you say that?”
“I told you before, I can’t be your hookup girl. It isn’t who I am.”
“We can do other things,” I said, waving my free hand over the table. “Have dinner together. Hang out.”
“Why?”
“Because I like you and you like me.”
“No.”
“Just like that? No?”
“We want different things in life.”
“How do you know that?”
She laughed and folded her arms in front of her. “Whether you think so now or not, I can’t imagine you won’t, one day, go back to your job. That right there is enough for me to walk away.”
I started to speak, but Sloane shook her head. “I want a regular life, Tackle. I’m hoping that now that I’ve gotten you out of my system, I can move on, find a nice guy, maybe even get married and start a family.”
“No other man will make you feel as good as I can.”
Sloane laughed. “You’re right about me liking you. I do. I always have. Your cockiness, how you make me laugh, not to mention you have a killer body—”
“And I’m handsome.”
She smirked. “Yes, you’re handsome. All of that makes for a great crush. Even for the perfect person to finally give my virginity to. But not for real life. You know that as well as I do.”
I wanted to argue, but could I? I knew Sloane was right. I wanted more time with her, but how much more? A couple of weeks where I spent as much time as I could with both of us naked, pleasuring each other’s bodies? I said we could hang out, but eventually, that would get weird, and even though my friendship with Halo was strained presently, we’d still remain good friends—even best friends—for the rest of our lives. If things went on for too long between Sloane and me, maybe she’d start asking for more than I could give, and then it would be awkward between us forever.
“You’re leaving me wanting more. I don’t think anyone’s ever done that before.”
“It’s good for you, Tackle. It’ll build character.”
“Is that what it’ll do? I thought all I’d get out of it was a pair of blue balls.”
Sloane laughed. “Let’s walk away while we can still be friends. Okay?”
I nodded. “I don’t like it, but you’re right.”
Sloane put her hand on her heart. “Did you just say I’m right? Wow, that plane crash really did change you.”
11
Sloane
I let Tackle walk me back to my friend’s building, but stopped short of inviting him up. If I did, we’d end up back in bed, and I couldn’t do that. It didn’t help his case that his phone rang two more times on the walk home, and instead of pulling it out, he ignored it.
“You sure about this?” he asked when we got to the elevator. “I could tuck you in.”
“Tell you what, I’ll go upstairs and you can return the call of whoever is so desperately trying to reach you.”
He took a step forward, maybe to kiss me, but the elevator door opened and I stepped inside. “Goodbye, Tackle.”
Walking away, hurt. I couldn’t deny that, but I knew I had to make a clean break now, or when the time came that he did, I would be devastated.
While I didn’t want kids right now, I knew that someday I would. When that time came, there was no way I could go through what my mother had when my father was gone for weeks at a time. I’d already experienced the bitter taste of worry too often.
On the elevator ride up, I thought about the wording of what I might say on a dating site. “Seeking a man who avoids danger and travel—a boring homebody.”
I probably should add “really good at sex,” since I knew it would be impossible for me not to compare every man I’d ever be with to Tackle. Something told me no man would ever measure up.
When I woke Saturday morning, I decided to pack up my stuff and go home. I could use a couple of days with my mother, letting her smother me in helicopter-mom overload.
I was just about to put on my jacket when I heard the intercom buzz. Other than on the rare occasion I ordered food delivery, I never heard it. And since I wasn’t expecting anyone, I ignored it.
The thing rang again as I walked out the door and locked it behind me. Once in the elevator, I stuck a ball cap on my head, fastened my jacket up tight to my neck, and wrapped a scarf around the lower part of my face.
With my duffel bag slung over my shoulder, I stepped off in the lobby. Wait. The lobby? I meant to go to the lower parking level. I turned around to get back on the elevator, but the door had already closed.
I felt someone’s hand on my shoulder at the same time I heard Tackle’s voice say, “Let me get that for you.”
I spun around, tightening my grasp on my bag. “What are you doing here?”
“I was hoping to take you out for breakfast, but thought I’d either missed you or you were still asleep.”
“Breakfast? No. Last night we
