Page 41 of The Spare
A few seconds later, I heard the sound of a door swinging open. Sloan fell forward and released a frustrated groan. Her head leaned against my chest for a moment. My blood heated at the brief contact, reminding me to start putting space between us, at least physically. She pulled back as quickly as she had leaned in.
“They’re in the wine cellar.” Her tone was disinterested, as though it was a daily occurrence.
She stood. “We should probably stop them before they break something.”
The night devolved from there. I don’t think anyone ate any real food—just desserts. And we all drank too much.
Things between all of us were starting to feel like they did before I left.
I’d been hoping for that since the gala.
Why did that hurt so much?
CHAPTER21
Sloan
Packing for six months was proving to be more difficult than I thought.
I had two weeks until I left for London. I would fly there on the Sutton jet with Marcus, an interesting development we squared away on Christmas. I kept running that day through my head in an attempt to make sense of it.
Marcus was different. Forward. It didn’t make any sense. There were times when it felt like we were flirting. I didn’t mind it, but the implications made me crazy. Was he just indulging me? That would mean he probably understood I had a crush on him and was being nice. It was humiliating to think about, especially since it was starting to feel a lot deeper than a crush.
“I have to go to the Hightower New Year’s Eve party.” I told Xander as I tried to concentrate on the task at hand. I looked at a black sequin dress that wasn’t long enough to cover past mid-thigh and tossed it to the side. Xander re-evaluated my choice, overruled it, and threw the dress in the suitcase. “Do you want to come?”
Xander sat on my bed next to the open suitcases as I packed the items to take and tossed others to the side.
“I have plans.” He got up for a moment, walked into my closet, and pulled out a few more similar dresses.
“You can bring your own date. I’m going with Ashton Carmichael,” I said. He was a friend of one of the senior partners at the firm; we’d met on a few occasions after work. He was nice enough, a perfectly suitable date for a party I was essentially required to attend.
“Who?” He sat back on the bed in front of the open suitcase, suddenly interested. Xander was particularly interested in my love life lately.
“He’s a friend of a partner.” I shrugged. There was nothing remarkable about him. “Easy to talk to; there isn’t any heat there.”
The truth of the matter was that there wasn’t a lot of heat anywhere. Unless Marcus was around, in which case, there was too much heat in inconvenient places. That whole situation was something I would normally run by Xander if it weren’t so complicated.
“Then why bother?” He laughed and turned his attention to the pile of books beside the suitcase. My refusal to adopt using an e-reader made packing light impossible. “If you’re going for strictly platonic, I’m sure Rohan or Tristan would go with you. At least that way, you can have a decent dance partner.”
As lovely as being the sad friend who couldn’t get her own date sounded, I passed. Besides, I had a feeling both had better ideas of how to spend their New Year’s than with me.
“Oh, I meant to tell you. Remember Jay Sachi?” I asked. Xander’s head shot up from moving the books aside. “He’s in London. He texted me, asking to get together to catch up.”
It was a bizarre text that came in on Christmas Day. I was distracted, or I would have responded then. I still hadn’t. His messages sat in my texts and awaited my reply.
Jay Sachi
I hear you’ll be in my city soon
Jay Sachi
Let’s catch up when you get here
“How does he know you’re going to be in London?” Xander’s eyes lit up, intrigued. He walked back to my suitcase.
“No idea. I’m guessing someone told him.”
Xander snorted a laugh. “Given he’s wanted to get into your pants since you met, probably not Henry.”
