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I had only been to Sloane’s three times since we had been back, and I was ready to head over there and spend the weekend with her.
“I’m headed out, guys. I should be back Monday.”
Stretch pretended to crack a whip. “Two weeks in and you’re running away.”
I flipped him off. “You’re just pissed that I found an ol’ lady before Yarder dropped the gauntlet on sleeping around.” I put on my sunglasses and smirked. “Can’t help it that I’m fucking lucky, man.”
“Get out of here,” Fade called. “It’s not like the camera crew is here already, and I’ve got the wheels in motion for a little party this weekend.”
“Dude,” Compass sighed. “Did you not hear a fucking word that Yarder said?”
Fade flitted his hand at Compass. “I’ll take care of him.”
Part of me wished I could be here this weekend because I knew there were going to be some fireworks if Fade was planning a party.
“And this is part of the reason why we kept shit from you fucks.” Compass shook his head and walked out the door.
“Don’t get too rowdy, brother,” I called to Fade.
Fade smirked and pulled out his phone. “You don’t even know what you’re going to miss.”
“Pretty sure I’ll have my own kind of fun.” I clapped Fade on the shoulder and headed out the door.
Two weeks ago, I would have been all about having a rager and partying the weekend away.
Now?
Now I was ready to head to Texarkana and see Sloane.
She was better than any party, and that was never going to change.
*
Chapter Thirteen
Sloane
Hey, lady! It was great seeing you at the book signing two weeks ago! Great to put a face to the name. I was actually wanting to talk to you about the hot biker you snagged while there.
I know it sounds creepy, but I could notnotwatch you guys. A blind man could see how into you he was. What’s the story with you two if you don’t mind me asking? My author brain has already run through every possible scenario, and now I just need the real story.
Hope to hear from you soon!
-Winter Travers
“Why do you look like you saw a ghost?” Dove asked. She dropped onto the bench next to me and started to unlace her boots.
Dove and I both worked in the mixing room of the ice cream factory for the past ten years. I still remember my first day of orientation. Dove had been the one to show me around, and we had been close ever since.
I was in the breakroom changing my shoes after my shift and was shocked to find an email from Winter Travers on my phone.
That never happened. Sure, I reached out to the authors I like, but it was never them who started the conversation.
“Sloane,” Dove called. She shook her boot in my face, and I reared back.
“What the hell, weirdo?” I laughed.
She rolled her eyes and dropped her boot on the floor. “You were in a trance, woman. I’m fresh out of smelling salts, so my boot was the next best option.”
