Page 24 of Walk With Me
“Who is your type?”
Sloane inches closer. This feels like a trap. I can’t tell her she’s my type without it looking like I’m coming on to her. Which I wouldn’t mind doing if I was sure she was interested in me that way.
“Um…I’m not sure.” Lamest answer ever.
“Then how do you know Keira isn’t your type?”
“Because she’s mean,” I scoff. Oops. “I mean, she’s…”
“You’re right, she is a bit mean, isn’t she?” Sloane huffs out gently.
She looks deep in thought, and I can’t help but smile at the little crease which forms between her eyebrows when she’s thinking hard. The booze won’t be helping her thought process.
“She kissed me too.”
Flexing my jaw, I offer a small nod. What can I say to that?
“I don’t think I want to kiss her again.”
Okay, Sloane likes to just blurt out every thought and feeling she’s having when she’s had a drink.
“You don’t have to kiss her again if you don’t want,” I say gently.
“You hate it here, don’t you?” she says, changing tack without a single segue. Her head rolls lazily to the side. I can tell she’s tired by the way her eyes droop.
Smiling, I shrug casually. “Just not my thing.”
After a few moments of silence, she sighs. “I can show you to the room I usually stay in. It’s right on the other side of the house. Nice and quiet. Big TV. Warmer than out here.”
Frankly, that sounds like heaven. If I can snag some party food on the way, that would make my day. My stomach rumbles in agreement.
Sloane chuckles. “Come on, let’s get you some food and a place to crash.”
We make it back to the house and through the crowd. Sloane does an impressive job of piling junk food into her arms. I copy and follow her up an enormous spiral staircase.
She leads me along a corridor and turns right. This is the longest walk ever, and I do not envy anyone who has to do this on the regular. I’ll take my room two metres from the stairs any day of the week.
The door Sloane pushes through leads to a bedroom with the biggest bed I have ever seen. Everything is white and dark wood. There are double doors that I guess lead on to some type of balcony. No wonder Sloane had dibs on this room. I would too if I partied here on the regular.
“Nobody will come in. Bryce has strict rules. Unless you’re invited in by the person assigned to the room, it’s no entry.”
“Right, okay.”
She stumbles over to the bed. “Is this okay? Will you be comfortable?”
Snorting, I tap my chin. “I suppose it will do in a pinch.”
A cute eye roll, and then we go quiet. I don’t want Sloane to feel obligated to stay with me. She came to party and celebrate the first cheer and football game of the season. “You should get back down there. Becca will be looking for you.”
“Oh, okay. Yeah. I’ll head back out.”
Did I just fuck something up?
She bites her lip for a second before stepping past me. When the door clicks shut, I close my eyes and berate myself internally. I should have asked her to stay with me. But then again, she’s had a few drinks, and on the off chance Sloane ever does want to be more than friends, I don’t want anything to happen when she’s not fully sober.
Shaking out my limbs, I toe off my boots and remove my beer-stained hoodie. The TV remote is on the closest bedside table, so I make that side of the bed my temporary home for the night.
Sloane was right. This side of the house isn’t loud. Scrolling through the streaming apps, I land onWynonna Earp. Fucking love that show. It’s been a while since I binged it.
