23. Sloane

CHAPTER 23

SLOANE

W orking at the library is the job I didn’t know I needed. I freaking love it. The kids, the books, even the older ladies who come in purely to socialize and spill the tea on all things Thunder Creek. I’ve only been working here a few weeks, but everything about the gig is perfect, the absolute dream job.

“Sloane, honey, I have a proposition for you.” Ms. Mabel corners me in the Children’s Department as I’m reshelving the entire Wimpy Kid series.

“Oh-kay.” I hesitate, my hand frozen mid-air. I’m afraid to commit to anything before hearing the entire scenario. What if she wants me to take over restroom duty or something?

“So, a few patrons have been asking about a book club for quite some time now. But we never had anyone who could run it. We’ve been understaffed for so long, and no one wanted to take it on. But now that you’re here, we were hoping you’d be on board with the idea.” Her voice lifts along with her eyebrows as she stares me down, awaiting my response.

“Ummm…” I gnaw at my lip, wondering what exactly I’m getting myself into here. “I suppose I could do that. Like, meet once a month or something and lead a discussion on the book?”

“Sure, we could start there and see how it goes.”

“What kind of books are they interested in? A cute cozy mystery? Maybe a good thriller?”

“Romance, mostly.” She adjusts her sparkly blue readers, her voice deadpan.

“Oh! A romance book club. Okay then.” I swallow down my surprise. “Do you know if they have any book in particular they’re considering?”

“Well, I’m pretty sure they’ve already read the entire 50 Shades series.”

My face heats at the image of me leading an animated book club discussion with Ms. Mabel and her friends about various fetishes and what exactly goes down in the Red Room.

“Maybe pick something beachy, since it’s summer. Elin Hildebrand has a new one coming out. Or we could go small town and read Melanie Harlow, I know they all love her work.”

“Gotcha. I can find something, I’m sure. Let me finish reshelving these books,” I motion at the books on the rolling metal cart, “and then I’ll go check the catalogue and make a selection.”

“Wonderful. Once you choose the book, we can make up a flyer and post it here and online, maybe around town in a few places.” Ms. Mabel claps her hands together, the apples of her cheeks turning rosy. “The gals will be so pleased. Let’s schedule the meeting two weeks from today. That will give us enough time to spread the word, but also squeeze in at least three book clubs this summer.”

“Wow, aggressive. But okay, I can get it done. Guess I have some reading homework to do.”

Ms. Mabel grins, clearly pleased with her powers of persuasion, before spinning and sashaying back to the Reference desk. I hustle through the reshelving, a little stressed about this whole romance book club thing. I’ve never led a book club before. But it can’t be that tough, right? I’m sure I can come up with a few questions about a romance book and keep a discussion going. I mean, I went to college. This won’t be nearly as tough as Calculus or Chemistry.

Buzz, buzz.

Cam: You busy?

Sloane: Reshelving books. How was practice?

Cam: Tough. That kid Dalton is a real piece of work. But I think I taught Langley some good routes

Sloane: Nice. I’m sure you were fantastic out there

Cam: Hope so. Don’t want to let your dad down

Cam: You have time for a quick break this afternoon?

Sloane: Story Time’s at three, then I can duck out for a minute. Why? What’s up?

Cam: I need to see you

My stomach goes all swirly, fizzy excitement bubbling inside me at his words.

Sloane: I’d love to see you too. Maybe come around four—I should be done by then

Cam: Okay. See you soon

Staring down at my phone screen, I debate for a solid minute before quickly tapping out:

Sloane: XOXO

Then I wait, doing my best not to hyperventilate or let the cell slip through my sweaty fingers and clatter to the ground.

Cam: xoxo

Lightness fills my chest as I beam down at the four letters like a lovestruck idiot.

Cam’s as serious about us as I am. This thing between us could actually work.

Maybe Gracelyn is onto something with this whole manifestation thing. Maybe I need to start lighting candles, journaling, and dreaming of a wedding and babies.

Imagine me being Mrs. Cam Crawford, after all these years of wanting him.

Wild.

Smiling to myself, I get back to work slotting paperbacks in their rightful position on the shelf. But my mind’s definitely elsewhere.

I know that after everything that happened with Ratface, I should be more cautious, guarded. My heart’s barely healed from that trauma and here I am falling in love all over again.

But this is Cam. He’s the lone exception to the rule, I feel it deep down. We’ve been friends forever and I know he’s different. Funny and driven, smart and athletic, plus he cares about other people. He’d never do me like Ratface did.

Never.

I silence the negative Nancy voice urging me to be careful. If I listen to that bitch, I’ll be single forever, leading the Thunder Creek Library Romance Book Club with only Ms. Mabel by my side, and that is not a position I want to be in.

No offense to Ms. Mabel, but I much prefer my romances to be real. A book boyfriend is cute and all, but nothing replaces the actual feeling of being with someone.

Especially if that someone is Cam. His lips on mine, large, strong hands caressing my skin, heat shimmering between us, all the delicious tension.

“Excuse me, Miss Sloane?” A quiet voice interrupts my daydream and I feel a slight tug on my skirt.

“Oh, hey, Abigail. What’s up?” I smile down at the cute little girl, her brown hair in two braids tied with purple ribbon.

“Is Story Time happening soon?”

I check my watch. “Oh yes, it is. Sorry, I lost track of time. Let me grab the book. You can head over to the cozy corner and grab a bean bag.”

Abigail makes a beeline for the bean bags while I hustle over to the desk and fetch the book of the day, a story about a family of dogs taking a trip to the beach. I head over to the cozy corner and wave at the group already assembled, waiting patiently for me to take my seat.

“Hey, y’all. Thanks for coming to Story Time today!” I slide down into the old wooden chair that’s probably been at the library longer than I’ve been alive.

“Today we have a fun story about a dog family going on a summer trip to the beach. Have any of you been to the beach?”

At least ten hands shoot up into the air and several kids start chattering to their friends about their beach trips.

“I’m glad to see you’ve all had so much fun at the beach! We’ll share our stories later, after I read the book. Right now it’s listening time. So I’m going to need y’all to zip your lips—” I motion across my face, pretending like I’m zipping my mouth closed. “And turn your listening ears all the way up.” I cup my ear and a few of the younger kids mimic me.

That’s the moment Cam saunters in, flashing me his most devastating smile before sinking down onto the floor with the rest of the kids. Except he’s a solid foot and a half taller than most of them, his broad torso towering over everyone. My mouth goes dry and I can’t remember what I was even saying as I stare out at the group.

“Miss Sloane, are you going to read the story now?” One of the boys sitting on the front row nudges my knee and I jerk back to reality.

“Yes, yes I am, now that everyone’s good and quiet. A Rottie Family Adventure: Summer Beach Days. ” I flip to the first page of the story and begin to read aloud, comprehending exactly zero words.

Luckily, it’s an early reader picture book, so at least I don’t stumble over the simple prose. But all I can think about is Cam, sitting at the back of the audience. Every once in a while, my eyes slide over to his and I can’t catch my breath. The way he’s staring at me, listening to the story as if he’s enraptured with the Rottie family—and with me—is almost more than I can handle.

I’ve never felt like this before. So appreciated. Seen. Adored.

Not even the day Ratface proposed, which I suppose should have been a big freaking red flag. But I guess you don’t know what you don’t know.

“The Rottie family pulled into their driveway as the sun set. Daddy Rottie turned to Mommy Rottie. ‘That was a wonderful adventure, Mama. Pawsitively wonderful.’”

“Mommy Rottie said, ‘Thank you, Papa. I thought so too. Next time we’ll go camping!’ The End.”

A round of applause breaks out as I close the book and a few of the children hop up, their attention spans expired.

“What did y’all think of the story? Did you like it?” I ask, setting the book down on my lap.

“Yes!” Several of the kids shout and I smile out at the crowd, pretending to smooth my skirt but really drying my clammy palms. “Great! Now it’s time for y’all to share your beach stories. Who wants to go first?”

At least ten excited hands shoot into the air and I listen to all the stories and chatter from the kids about their beach days. Checking my watch, I notice the hour’s almost up, though.

“Okay, y’all. I set paper and crayons out on the tables. You’re welcome to draw a picture of your own day at the beach and we’ll display them on the bulletin board behind the desk. And remember to get your stamp for coming to the program today. It counts toward the Summer Reading Challenge! ”

At that, a bunch of the kids jump up and run over to the tables. A flurry of paper and crayons fly across the table as they fight over their favorite colors. A few of the older kids stay behind, though, eyeing Cam as he rises from the colorful carpet.

“You’re really tall. Are you Cam Crawford, the football player?” A blonde boy stares up at Cam, his eyes narrowed.

Cam nods. “Sure am.”

“Wow. So cool. Can I have your autograph?” He swipes a sheet of paper off the table, handing Cam a green crayon. “Please? I want to give it to my dad.”

“No prob.” Cam takes the crayon and bends over, scrawling his signature across the sheet of paper. “Here you go.”

Another kid sees the exchange and suddenly there’s a line of people waiting to talk to Cam, get his autograph, or take a photo with him.

“Sorry,” he mouths before bending down and throwing his arm across a kid’s shoulders, grinning at the camera.

I wave him off. “It’s fine.”

Twenty minutes later, Cam’s signed tons of autographs and chatted with every child and most of the parents. Abigail wanders over and taps Cam’s arm.

“Are you Miss Sloane’s boyfriend?”

My face flames, heat creeping all the way up my neck and I know without even checking that my chest is red and splotchy. I low-key want to melt into the carpet tiles, dying right here on the spot.

Abigail and the remaining kids all stare at Cam, waiting for his answer. He shoves a hand in his pocket and lifts his marine eyes to mine.

“Yes. I think I am. ”

Abigail’s face breaks into a smile and a few of the kids cheer excitedly, fists pumping in the air. The warmth in my face dissipates a little, spreading through my whole body.

Until I remember where I am.

That this is Thunder Creek and my dad’s definitely going to hear about this turn of events by dinnertime.

Fuckity, fuck, fuck.

Oh well. I guess he was bound to find out sooner or later. Guess it’ll be sooner.

“Hey there, Cam.” Ms. Mabel slides up to us, wrapping her arm around Cam’s tapered waist and squeezing. “Fancy seeing you here. Did Sloane ask you to come in and help pick out the next book club read?”

Cam’s brow creases, one eyebrow rising. “Don’t think I’m the right man for the job, Ms. Mabel. Unless book club wants to read about football.”

Ms. Mabel laughs, a high-pitched nasally giggle. “They’re more into romance. Seems like the two of you might have a suggestion or two in that department.” She shoots both of us an exaggerated wink. “You should come to the book club in two weeks. It’ll be loads of fun.”

“Oh, I’m sure Cam will be way too busy to make it to book club,” I say at the exact same time Cam replies, “I’d love to come. Sounds like fun.”

Ms. Mabel chuckles again before patting Cam’s forearm. “We’ll see you again soon then, Cam. And in the meantime, if you need any help with book recommendations, I’m sure Sloane can help you find some great football reads.”

With that, she sidles away, leaving me beet-red and mortified in the Children’s Department.

“Well, that was embarrassing,” I mutter, low enough so only Cam hears .

“I didn’t mean to put you on the spot like that.” He reaches for my hand, linking his fingers with mine. “I hope I didn’t overstep, making a claim on you like that.”

My heart flutters, literally skipping a beat, which I thought was only an expression until this very moment.

I peer up at him, wishing we were alone so I could run my thumb over his stubbled cheeks, brush his full lips against mine.

“No, I love that you made a claim. The only thing is—” My chest squeezes tight, hot anxiety swirling in my gut. “My dad. He’s definitely going to hear about this. 100% guarantee.”

“That’s actually why I needed to see you.”

“C’mon. Let’s go somewhere a little more private.” I drag Cam away from all the little ears, back into the much-less-traveled reference stacks.

“Hey.” He leans me back against the sturdy shelves of books, caging me in between his arms. Then he leans down and presses his lips to mine in a hot, possessive kiss.

“Hey.” I smile even as my mind whirs with apprehension, wondering what exactly he needs to tell me that’s so urgent he couldn’t wait until tonight. “What’s up?”

Cam traces my cheekbone, trailing his thumb down my jawline and over the curve of my chin before meeting my gaze.

“I’m moving out.”

“What? Why?” Red-hot panic flares inside me and my jaw tenses.

“Relax. It’s not a bad thing. It’s just—” He runs the rough pad of his thumb over my lips and I taste the salt on his skin, the gesture sending a pulse of desire straight to my core.

“I can’t be with you—really be with you—while I’m living in your dad’s house. He’s my coach and I can’t disrespect him like that.”

“Oh.” I swallow hard over the lump in my throat, trying to make sense of all this.

“You understand, right?” He cuts his eyes to mine and I take a shallow breath.

“I guess. I mean, I feel like we’ve already crossed the line, but?—”

“Sloane, trust me. You have no idea the lines I want to cross with you.” He rests his forehead against mine, his breath warm on my skin. “You make me crazy. I need you like I need air to breathe. Maybe more. But I can’t do those things, be with you like that, under your dad’s roof. It’s just not right.”

“Ah—” I suck in another breath, dampness flooding my panties beneath his heated stare.

“Are you ready for all this?” His voice is low, almost desperate, as he presses his body against mine.

“Yes.” The word comes out in a breathy whisper.

Cam heaves out a breath of relief. “Good. Because I don’t know what I’d do if you said no. Die of blue balls, maybe.”

I giggle, sliding my hand over the hard bulge of his shorts.

“One question, though—who’s going to tell my dad?”