Page 7 of The Route to You

The doors to the elevator started to slide shut and Kyle set a hand out to stop it. “We wouldn’t want to make you late,” he said.

And that’s my cue to disappear forever. “I really should go,” she said, her heart still slamming against her ribs. Would he tell Davy that she’d just pretended not to know him? Probably. He was Davy’s date.

Why did I lie?

“See you down there?” Sloan said, stepping into the elevator.

“Can’t wait,” Davy called out cheerfully as the doors started closing again.

This time, Kyle didn’t stop them. Sloan held his gaze for exactly two seconds before the doors slid closed between them.

Kyle Winnick.

Life, it turned out, had a truly vicious sense of humor.

At least the brevity of their interaction and her lie had avoided a full-blown, public, emotionally loaded reunion. The last time she’d seen him hadn’t exactly ended on a warm, nostalgic note.

God, what did he think of her now?

Did he hate her?

And why, tonight of all nights, had the universe decided to send him back into her orbit?

She pressed the tips of her fingers to her forehead, trying to settle her breath. Shake it off, Sloan. Him being here doesn’t mean anything.

The elevator opened before she could spiral any further. Her wedding planner, Felicity, was already waiting there for her, Evan at her side. “There she is. Right on schedule,” Felicity said with a wide smile.

Sloan shook away the remnants of nerves and went to Evan’s side. He lowered his face for a quick kiss. “You look nice,” she said, sliding her arm into his as Felicity led them forward.

“This wedding planner is driving me insane,” he hissed under his breath.

“She’s very good at her job,” Sloan said, giving his arm a small squeeze.

“How was your day at the spa?” Evan asked, waving at someone they passed in the hallway.

“Relaxing. How was yours with the guys?”

“Cold, dry snow, great light, and no crowds. We skied the bowls early, cut through the trees when it started getting tracked, and just kept finding soft lines. By the end, my quads were cooked.”

Even after four years of Evan trying to get her out on the slopes with him, Sloan wasn’t quite sure if she knew what that all meant. Of course, she usually retired to the lounge as soon as he got distracted enough to ignore her lack of enthusiasm in the snow. But she smiled at him anyway. “Sounds like a great day, then.”

“It was. Tomorrow might be even better. It’s supposed to snow tonight, so there’ll be fresh powder.”

“Yeah, too bad our wedding will interfere with that,” she said lightly.

“The ceremony isn’t until late in the afternoon, though. There’s plenty of time. I might still go out with the guys in the morning.”

“I have you and your groomsmen scheduled for hot towel shaves at ten,” Felicity cut in, without looking back.

Evan groaned. “Can you push it to noon? Or even one? What are we supposed to do with all that time between the shaves and the ceremony? Sit around and waste a perfectly good ski day?”

Sloan bit the inside of her cheek. She wasn’t about to start a fight right before the rehearsal, but she hated the way his words made her feel like their wedding was just one more annoying thing to check off the to-do list in the middle of his ski vacation.

“Consider yourself lucky,” Felicity said, stopping abruptly in front of a set of massive wooden doors. “The women are starting hair and makeup at seven. You boys get to sleep in. Besides, I have Jennifer Larson from The District Gazette for a quick interview after the shave.” She glanced at Sloan. “And she asked me to have you reconsider, Sloan. All she wants is a few photos and some questions. Everyone loves photos of the bride getting ready.”

Sloan shook her head sharply. “Please tell her no. Again. I really only want my bridesmaids there.” She’d already consented to photos after the ceremony—not that she had much of a choice. Despite loathing the spotlight, marriage to a congressman came with obligations , as her future mother-in-law liked to remind her.

Evan rolled his eyes at her, then looked at Felicity. “Tell Ms. Larson it’s fine. If I can handle a few photos so can Sloan.”