Chapter Twelve

"Have fun?" Captain asked, pausing at her apartment door.

She pulled her key out of the door lock and turned, rested her back against the door and looked up at him. "I don't remember the last time I had that much fun. For a while I just felt like…"

"Like what?" he asked, pushing his hands deep into his jeans pockets.

"Like me." Her cheeks heated and she dipped her gaze to the sidewalk, but his finger was there suddenly, hooking under her chin and lifting her shy gaze back up to him.

"That's a good thing," he murmured. "I remember how full of life you were. I saw her again tonight."

She sighed and lifted her attention to the porch light, where three bugs lazily swirled around. "Being back here is confusing."

"I can imagine," he said, dropping his hand back into his pocket. He was so tall and muscular, he blotted out the moon above them. His eyes were glowing brightly, and his chest rose and fell with his breath.

She whispered an admission. "My heart is beating really fast."

"I can hear it. Why?" he asked, canting his head like a curious animal. "I won't hurt you."

"It's not that. I just…" She glanced at the masculine curve of his lips. The bar buzz had worn off a couple hours ago, and it had been a purposeful thing. She'd stopped after that first drink so she could be clear-headed for this moment. Honesty was best. "I haven't kissed a man in a long time, and half of me thinks you'll try to kiss me. The other half of me thinks I'm not your type and we really are just hanging out as friends. Part of me is terrified, and part of me is confused, and another part is hopeful, and I don't know how to do this. I was with Ryan for a long time, and he was all I saw, you know? I was loyal. He stopped kissing me and touching me a few years ago, probably because of Naomi. I was so confused for all that time, and I didn't feel pretty, and I didn't understand—"

Captain's lips pressed to hers, stealing the awkward admissions from her throat. Sloane froze under his affection.

He held there for a few seconds, perfectly frozen against her, and then slowly, slowly, he thawed. He brushed his fingertips against her throat, then rested his thumb against the front of her neck, angled his head, and moved his lips against hers in another kiss.

Ooooooh, she'd forgotten how this could feel. Sloane closed her eyes and let him teach her how to do this again. He was slow—gentle, patient. He'd been her first kiss way back when, and now he was her first kiss after heartbreak.

When she slipped her arms up his chest, only then did he step closer to her. He cupped the sides of her neck with his strong hands and kissed her deeper, slipping his tongue past her lips, and oh God, she was falling into him. This felt familiar and new all at once!

Her stomach was doing flip-flops, and her heart felt like it was skipping beats, and his hands on her neck caused a fire in her skin.

The soft growl that rattled his throat as his kiss intensified dredged up an excitement like none she'd ever felt before.

"Fuck," he whispered, easing out of the kiss to rest his forehead against hers. He stood just like that for a few breaths, and then released the sides of her neck and stepped back, creating space between them. Pity.

Sloane swallowed hard and brushed her lips with her fingertips. They were tingling like a limb that had fallen asleep. "Did I do something wrong?"

Hands hooked on his hips, he hung his head and shook it, then lifted his too-bright gaze, offered her a grin, and adjusted his dick. It looked huge pressed behind the seam of his jeans. "Woman, you're doing everything right."

He ran his hand through his hair and slowly backed away. "It's enough for now."

"Oh. Right." Sloane fidgeted, feeling a little rejected. She couldn't help it. She hadn't wanted that moment to end.

He gestured with his hand like he wanted to say something, but seemed to change his mind. He gripped the back of his hair, then abruptly turned and walked to his truck, turned it on, and backed out of the small parking lot of her apartment complex.

Feeling a swirl of confusing emotions, she fumbled to open the door to her apartment and went inside. She stood in the open doorframe for a minute in utter bafflement.

Okay. So he'd kissed her, but then run away. Again.

Red flag.

God, that man was a walking red flag. Right? Sure, he'd taken her to hang with his Crew, but he always left the same way. Abruptly, and with no explanation on what he was thinking.

Slowly, she turned and checked that his truck was out of the parking lot, and yep, he was long gone.

With a frown, Sloane closed the door with a soft click .

It felt like her entire body was trembling from his touch, and it was strange having him pull away so quickly.

That was a hell of a kiss. A hell of a confusing kiss.

Her phone vibrated in her purse, and she pulled it out. To her shock, the ID read Captain.

She opened the text.

Can I call you?

What? Sure. Send. She called him in case he was driving. He picked up on the first ring.

"Texting and driving is lame," she said in a stern voice.

"Agreed. I'm pulled over right down the street."

"Are you okay?"

"No. Yes. I don't know! Fuck, Sloane, do you understand what you are?"

"Ummm, a single mother that—"

"I can't make myself drive away until I say something."

"Okay."

"I didn't like you talking about going on a date with someone else earlier tonight, and I'm not possessive! I never have been. I don't give a fuck about what women do. Never have, and I've seen that game before. A woman trying to drag me closer after we go out, and threatening to date other men. I would always tell them to do it, and just be out. No attachment, no feelings, and I would never think about them again. I hadn't planned to take you to meet the Fastlanders. I just want to be upfront. I brought those pizza rolls over to try and get an invite inside, maybe watch a movie, maybe get into your pants—"

"Captain! I am not that kind of girl."

"I know I should care about that, but I have a lot of old habits and ways of thinking about relationships. I still have that devil on my shoulder, and I kept thinking about you, and I have been desperate to bury my fucking dick so deep in you that you won't ever think about Ryan again. And I know how that sounds, I know that's messed up, but you should know how I am, Sloane. You should understand what I am, and then make decisions accordingly. I'm going to tell you all the bad shit about me. Part of me is going to try and chase you off when I'm too lazy to run, and part of me is going to try and seduce you closer just to see if I can get a woman like you. Part of me is going to think about buying Ruger little treats every time I'm in a store. Part of me is going to hurt you, and part of me is going to want to heal you, and I know me. I won't know how to heal anything. You talked about going on a date, and you came out all dressed up and looking fucking sexy, and something inside of me snapped and I wanted more. I…fuck!"

"You what? You're in it deep now, Captain. Finish it." Perhaps she couldn't respect all of his motives, but she sure did respect all of his honesty.

"I cared. I wanted to put you in front of the Crew and see if you sank or swam, and you fuckin' swam, Sloane. The girls loved you. I could tell. Your smile eased up through the night and I couldn't stop watching you, and then I was standing there by your door hearing you utter the words you didn't feel pretty, and I wanted to take every awful feeling your ex gave you away."

"Captain," she whispered.

"What?" he gritted out.

"That's how you heal a woman."

He let off a long, shaking sigh. "I'm going to Change soon. I have to. Honesty time—everything in me wants to come back to you and kiss the shit out of you until you're completely addicted to me, but I don't know my bear's plans well enough to put you through it. You're nice, Sloane. And a good mom. And normal."

"Normal," she repeated, confused.

"My life will eat you and Ruger alive."

"I think you are feeling just as confused as I am," she said softly, her mind whirling with her thoughts.

"I have to Change or I'm going to come back and ask for too much, too soon. I'll text you later."

"Okay," she murmured. "Do you want me to come along?"

"And see the bear? Fuck no. We did that before. It didn't go well, remember?"

"Okay," she repeated, uncertain of what he wanted from her.

"Don't let me get to you unless you are sure it's what you want."

She didn't understand, but before she could ask, a long growl rattled straight through the phone and tickled her eardrum. "Gotta go," he forced out in a deep, gravelly voice she barely recognized.

The line went dead, and she whispered, "Bye, Captain," before she shoved her phone back into her purse and looked around her apartment.

Stacks of boxes still littered the living room and kitchen. They were full of memories from her old life, that had made sense to her for so long, and she'd been putting off opening them. It had hurt her heart to think about removing the tape from the boxes and pulling out those memories one by one.

Now? Late on this night, after a roller coaster date with a man who had her attention, unpacking those memories suddenly seemed very important.

Sloane clenched her jaw in determination and set her purse by the front entrance, then approached the first box. The label, Pictures , was scribbled across the top in her cursive writing.

Ryan had moved on, but she hadn't been quite yet ready to go through the old memories until tonight.

Now, no matter what happened with Captain, she needed to feel more moments like she had tonight.

She needed to feel more like herself, now that she was assured she still existed somewhere inside of the shell of herself.

Captain had said he didn't know how to heal her, and perhaps they would go nowhere, but he did have an instinct for healing. Already he'd reminded her of who the fuck she was, and that held weight to a woman who had been drowning for so long.

Captain would be in the woods tonight as a terrifying animal, and she would be tackling a terrifying animal here—coping with the loss of a life she'd thought belonged to her.

Really coping. It would be hard work, but it was time, and as of tonight, she was ready.

She grabbed a box cutter off the fireplace mantle and cut open the top of the box.

Starting tonight, her path was changing. No more Sad Sloane the Victim.

She was no one's victim. It had taken Captain's kind words and gentle kiss to remind her she was still here, she still existed, she was breathing, she was still a red-blooded woman.

She mattered.

Fuck Ryan and how he'd made her feel. Fuck Naomi and their friends.

Sloane had hung out with the Fastlanders tonight and felt like a part of something for the first time in a long time, and it had awakened something inside of her that she'd thought she lost.

The top stack of pictures in the box was old photographs of her and Ryan when they'd first been dating.

She glared at them for a moment, letting the feelings wash through her, then plucked off the top one, crumpled it up, and tossed it into the beginnings of a trash pile.

After tonight, things would be different.

In some ways, Captain had confused her.

In some ways, he had made things crystal clear.