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“Thanks. Can’t afford an injury.”
“Oh, true.” She eases off the gas, slowing way down. Now we’re practically crawling and her knuckles turn white from gripping the wheel.
“How long have you been back?” I ask.
“A few months.”
“Where were you before?”
“New Orleans.”
She drums on the steering wheel as we idle at the stoplight. AC blasts from the air vents, freezing the beads of sweat on my face, and Taylor Swift belts out something about being an anti-hero.
“You working now?” I notice the corners of her mouth tense, her lips pressing together tight.
“Not at the moment. I was working at a law firm in New Orleans, but I hated it.”
“Gotcha.”
“I had a job as a paralegal, but honestly, it was boring. I didn’t love New Orleans all that much, either. And I was engaged.”
The words tumble out of her, then she pauses and bites down on her lip. Her teeth dig into the flesh so hard, I’m worried she might break the skin.
“Engaged, huh? Wow.”
“Yeah, turns out he was a ratface. Cheated on me with his secretary. Like how fucking cliché can you get, ya know?” She glances over at me, her cheeks turning pink, and I’m shocked.
She was engaged?
My chest tightens, knowing she promised herself to someone else. Was presumably in love with someone else.
And then the asshole cheated on her?
In what wild, unhinged universe does a guy cheat on a woman like Sloane? A person so kind, so genuine, so honest, loyal, and true?
I clear my throat. “I’m sorry, that really sucks.”
“Yeah, well, better to find out before the wedding, I guess. Really would have been great if he decided to bang her before I paid all those down payments, though. Asshole.”
“That is a dick move.”
“Yeah, the actual, literal definition of a dick move. So, when you feel bad about your life, slide on over and talk to me. That should cheer you up.” She shoots me a wan smile and I search for something—anything—to say that might make her feel better.
“I heard one of the Jonas brothers is single again.”
Really, Crawford? That’s all you can come up with? A stupid joke about the Jonas brothers?
“Haha, funny. Doubt I’d have much luck with a Jonas brother at this stage of my life. Besides, I think I may have evolved from there.”
“Really? You’re out of your boy band phase then?” I cock a brow.
“Firmly.” She pauses for a minute. “What about you? I’m sure you’ve had tons of girlfriends since you left Thunder Creek. Did you leave anyone special back in Chicago?”
“Me? No, definitely not.” I smooth my hands down my shorts. “There’s been no one special. Casual stuff here and there. But my focus has been on football. Doesn’t leave time for much else.”
“Yeah, I’m sure that’s tricky.”
She pulls into the driveway, inching her car up next to mine. Cutting the engine, she turns to face me. Her face is flushed from the sun, the cinnamon freckles across her nose a touch darker. The scent of sunscreen fills the car and I can’t stop staring at her glossy lips, wondering what she’d taste like. Her tongue darts out, licking at her lower lip, and a tense silence stretches between us.
