Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

B rooklyn tugged on my arm. "Auntie Sloan?"

I forced a smile, turning my attention from the view and thoughts of Jackson. He'd left the suite after we'd finalized our plans, but his presence lingered. His scent—he even wore the same damn scent, the cologne I'd given him for his twenty-ninth birthday. It was indelibly linked to him in my mind. A mixture of something spicy, sensual, forbidden, and purely Jackson.

"What's up?" I asked.

She peered up at me, her eyes full of concern. "Are you okay?"

"Of course." I wrapped my arm around her shoulder. I didn't know how long I'd been standing there, thinking of the past and debating my future. "I'm sorry. I'm just…thinking about my trip."

"Are you excited?" she asked.

Was I excited?

I wasn't sure what I was. I wasn't sure the myriad of emotions I was feeling could be so easily categorized. But I didn't want to worry Brooklyn. So I said, "I'm excited to be able to take such a long sailing trip."

"I'm going to miss you." She gave me a squeeze.

I squeezed her back. "I'm going to miss you too."

She hugged me extra tight, not letting go. "Hey," I said in a calming tone. "Everything okay?"

She nodded, but her face was buried in my chest.

"Brooklyn?" I placed my hands on her shoulders, peering into her face. "What's going on?"

"I just…" She pulled back and let out a shaky exhale. "That's a long time for you to be on a boat. And what about hurricane season and bad weather and…"

"Sweetheart." I smoothed her hair away from her face, eager to assuage her fears. "It's not hurricane season yet. And I go sailing every year."

"Not like this. Not crossing an ocean."

"True," I agreed. "But I have before. Before you were born. And I'm an experienced sailor. Besides—" I ruffled her hair "—I won't be alone."

She let out a sigh of relief. "I'm so glad Jackson's going with you."

I hadn't realized how concerned she was for me. How concerned all my family was for my safety. And I found her faith in Jackson…sweet. There'd been a time when I'd had that kind of faith in Jackson. When I'd felt safe because I knew he'd never let anyone hurt me.

I was leaving the restaurant late one night after my shift had ended when someone tapped me on the shoulder. I jumped, letting out a shriek.

"Sloan?" Jackson asked. "You okay?"

I turned to face him, my heart racing. "I…" I breathed out. "Yeah. Yeah." I was still trying to catch my breath, so I flashed him a bright smile instead.

He tilted his head, his gaze assessing. "Where are you headed?"

"Home. I just got off from work. Why?"

Jackson scanned the street. "I'll walk with you," he said, and for a brief flicker of a moment, I wondered if he'd planned this. If he'd come here just to see me. He knew where I worked. He knew from our texts earlier in the day that I'd had a shift tonight. I nearly laughed at myself. The idea was ridiculous.

Still…there was something between us. Could he feel it too? This connection?

"What?" he asked, and I realized I had yet to respond.

I might be tempted to ask if he'd come here for me, but I was too scared to hear his response. Instead, I asked, "Aren't you worried Greer will see you?"

He'd put me in an incredibly awkward position.

"At the moment, I'm more concerned about you." His expression was sincere, and I tried not to read too much into that comment. Jackson was older. Hot. He probably thought of me like another little sister.

I tightened my grip on my bag, exhausted after a long shift and ready to go home. "I already have four older brothers. I don't need another one."

His expression darkened, but I turned and started walking toward my apartment.

"Sloan." He grabbed my wrist, his hold light yet commanding.

"What?" I asked, glancing at him over my shoulder.

"Just…" He looked as if he was going to say something else then stopped himself. "I'm sorry if I startled you. I read about a string of assaults on campus, and I was worried about you."

I softened at his words. I wanted to ask why, but I knew better than to push. Besides, it would be nice not to have to walk home alone at night just this once. "Okay. The company would be nice."

We fell into step beside each other. We talked about work, school, Greer. My family. I kept stealing glances at Jackson, his eyes connecting with mine every time.

We slowed as we neared my apartment, and I wanted to linger in this moment with him. But this was reckless. What would we tell Greer if she happened to see us together? What would she think?

"I should—" I gestured toward the building. "I should head in, or Greer will worry. Thanks for walking me home."

"Anytime. Seriously. Call me if you ever need anything." When I said nothing, he pressed. "Okay?"

"Okay."

He lifted his hand as if to touch me. I wished he would. I held my breath, waiting for it. But then he dragged his hand through his hair.

"Wait." His arm brushed against me, and I wanted to sink into him. Into his strength and assuredness.

"Are you free tomorrow?"

My heart leaped at his question, but I told it to calm the hell down. "Yeah. Why?"

"Come by my place. I want to teach you some self-defense moves."

"You do?" I asked, lighting up.

"Yeah." He rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly bashful.

"I love that idea," I said, and I meant it. I loved that Jackson didn't want to coddle me but empower me.

"See you tomorrow." He smiled.

"Tomorrow." I smiled back, almost giddy. I turned and headed toward the door to my building, feeling his eyes on me the entire time.

"Will you still be able to FaceTime while you're gone?" Brooklyn asked, jolting me from the memory.

"Of course." I knew it would be difficult to keep up with our daily text messages and twice-weekly calls. But I would do anything to reassure her.

"I wish I could go with you," she mumbled in a glum tone.

She'd been saying that for years. I'd hired a sailing coach at one of the local marinas for her. And we'd been sailing together every chance we got. One day, she'd be ready. One day , Nate had agreed.

"How'd it go with Jackson?" Emerson asked, entering the room.

"Good." I smiled brightly, still feeling off-kilter. "Yeah. Good."

But the more I thought about it, the more surprised I was. Because I actually meant it.

"He's super nice," Brooklyn gushed. "I knew you'd like him."

"Hey, B?" Emerson ruffled Brooklyn's hair, meeting my eyes over the top of her head. "Why don't you see if the chef can rustle up a charcuterie board."

"Okay!" Brooklyn popped up and disappeared down the hall to the kitchen.

"Hey," Emerson said in a softer tone. "Are you okay?"

"I…" I glanced away, not sure what to say or if I even should. I liked Emerson. Thought she was perfect for Nate and Brooklyn. But I wasn't sure I wanted to divulge my past with Jackson to her—or anyone.

I'd kept our relationship a secret all these years. Why stop now?

"I'm fine." I only hoped my smile looked more convincing than it felt.

I was still trying to grapple with the fact that my ex was going to be my bodyguard.

It had been easier to forget about him when we were living separate lives, but now, we'd be sharing a boat. And all the feelings I'd forgotten or suppressed seemed determined to resurface.

"Mm." She smiled. "I know you say that. And I know you want it to be true, but I sense you don't quite believe it yourself."

Was I really that transparent?

"I—" I gaped at her.

She flashed me a warm smile and leaned in. "I've been in your shoes. Many times. Pretending I'm fine when I'm anything but."

"You mean since announcing your engagement to Nate?" I couldn't fathom living with the level of publicity and scrutiny they dealt with on a regular basis. It had to be exhausting.

"Yes, but even before. I guess what I'm trying to say is that it's okay not to be okay." She placed her hand on my forearm. "And I'm here if you want to talk."

"Thanks." I swallowed past the lump in my throat, overwhelmed by her generosity. I didn't have many girlfriends. And even though Emerson was younger than me, she was wise. Genuine.

"I know what it's like to have people invade your space," she continued. "To have your life turned upside down without your consent. To suddenly have a bodyguard. And if I didn't have my best friend, Kendall, and Nate, I don't know how I'd get through it."

"You'd find a way." Of that, I had no doubt.

Emerson was an Olympic gold medalist. She was an incredible athlete. She was perfect for Nate, but she was also the type of woman I'd always expected Jackson to end up with—beautiful, ambitious, athletic. She was like a ray of sunshine.

Which got me wondering, not for the first time, about Jackson's relationship status.

If he was going on a two-month sailing trip with me surely he wasn't married, right? I couldn't imagine his wife being okay with that kind of assignment. I sure as hell wouldn't be if I were in her shoes.

Greer hadn't mentioned there being anyone serious in Jackson's life, but he didn't tell her everything. I knew that from experience.

And the idea of Jackson having a wife made me sick to my stomach. I placed a hand there to quell my growing nausea.

"Sloan?" Emerson asked. "Are you sure you're okay? You look pale."

"I am pale," I joked. "I live in London, and I'm rarely outside."

She eyed me with a healthy amount of skepticism but didn't push. Instead, she asked, "How's Edward?"

"Fine." At least, I assumed he was. We'd barely spoken all week. So, I tacked on, "Busy as ever," because that seemed more accurate.

"I'm sure it takes a toll on your relationship." I knew she was speaking from personal experience. She and Nate juggled a lot, but they always seemed to make Brooklyn and their relationship with each other the priority.

"It does."

I could hear Brooklyn talking to someone in the other room. Based on the animated tone of her voice, I assumed it was Sophia.

"I'm sure you'll be eager to return to London after your sailing trip, but I was hoping you'd attend Kendall's bridal shower."

I wasn't sure I'd be eager to return home, at least not until the threats stopped. And considering I planned to break up with Edward, I didn't think I'd have a relationship to return home to.

"I'd like to," I said. "I'll do my best," I added.

The chef delivered a charcuterie board, and I wondered if I could ask Emerson about Jackson without arousing too much suspicion. Surely it would seem natural for me to be curious about my bodyguard, right? Especially considering the fact that we'd be in such close quarters.

"What do you know about Jackson?" I asked.

Emerson considered me a moment then said, "He's a former Navy SEAL. Forty-four. Great with kids. Obsessed with safety. Discreet. Loyal."

I already knew all that, but I simply listened as if it were news to me. Her comment about Jackson being "great with kids" surprised me, despite the fact that Brooklyn had gushed about him.

"What do you know about him personally?" I asked, trying to subtly inquire about his home life. His relationship status.

She lifted a shoulder. "Not much. Like I said, he's friendly but professional. It took months before he finally agreed to switch from calling me Ms. Thorne to Emerson."

I popped a cracker into my mouth, chewing as I considered.

She tilted her head, assessing. "Why? Are you concerned about something?"

"Just…apprehensive about the situation in general." A glance at my watch told me it was getting late in London. I was running out of time to talk to Edward before my trip, and I didn't want to leave with things as unsettled as they were.

"It'll be okay." Her smile was full of warmth and understanding. "You'll see. Having a bodyguard isn't so bad, and Jackson's the best."

I wondered if she knew about Kendall's bodyguard. I wondered if I should tell her since Kendall was her best friend. But then I decided it wasn't my place.

I stood, smoothing down my skirt. "I'd better go call Edward."

"I've got to do some stretches. I'll catch up with you later."

When I reached my room, I shut the door behind me and kicked off my shoes. I dragged a hand through my hair, padding across the carpet. I was sick of making excuses. Done with lying to myself.

I knew what needed to be done. With a deep sigh, I pressed the button to connect the call. Edward answered on the third ring.

"Sloan, darling."

"Hey." I stared at the contents of my suitcase.

We fell silent for a minute, awkward tension stretching between us. This wasn't the type of conversation I wanted to have over the phone, but he'd been too busy to meet up in the weeks leading up to my trip. And I didn't feel like I could put it off any longer.

"Do you… Do you feel like this is normal?" I asked, trying to ease into it.

"What?"

"Our relationship. It just…" I sighed, trying to choose my words carefully. "It feels like we're disconnected." Surely he could see that, right? Even my brothers could see that, and they lived on the opposite side of the world.

"I'm not the one who decided to leave for a two-month sailing trip." The words came out clipped, and I could imagine him smoothing a hand over his hair as if he could smooth away his agitation. "You know I get motion sickness."

Edward hated open water, often joking that he could get seasick in a bathtub. I'd always told myself it was okay for couples to have different interests. But sometimes it rankled that we couldn't share something that was so important to me. Something that was as much a part of me as my green eyes.

"I know," I snapped, frustration lining my tone. But he wasn't getting it. This had been simmering beneath the surface for a long time. "This isn't about the sailing trip."

"Then what is it about?"

Everything else.

Edward was perfect on paper, but I couldn't see a future with him. And I'd ignored that fact for far too long.

"Look," he said in a calmer tone. "We lead busy lives. There's a cost. But if you'd move in with me…" He trailed off, perhaps hopeful that I'd finally say yes.

"I appreciate the offer, but I'm not sure it would change anything."

"Of course it would." He was growing agitated. It wasn't the first time we'd had this conversation. "We'd get to go to bed together," he said in a suggestive tone. "Wake up together. Share meals."

It wasn't enough. And I was frustrated that he didn't understand. That he didn't even recognize there was a problem. That he thought we could solve everything by moving in together.

"You're not listening to me. You never listen to me." I straightened, feeling a sense of rightness settle into me. "We want different things."

"What are you saying?" he asked, hesitancy creeping into his tone for the first time.

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, knowing there was no coming back from this. "I don't think we should see each other anymore."

"What? Sloan, where is this coming from?"

I didn't even know what to say to that, but I soon found myself launching into a list of reasons. When he didn't try to brush aside my concerns, he disputed each and every one until I was worn down and exhausted. This was what he did. How he handled a disagreement. But I wasn't going to be deterred.

Finally, he said, "You're being hasty."

"I'm not. I've given this a lot of thought."

"Right. Which is why you decided to spring it on me the night before you leave for two months and become practically unreachable?"

I sighed. "I tried to talk to you about it sooner."

"When?" he asked.

"Several times." I pinched the bridge of my nose. "You were always too busy."

"Maybe you didn't try hard enough."

"You know what, Edward?" I gritted my teeth. "I'm done. Done arguing with you. Done with this relationship."

"Come on, Sloan." His tone was softer now, almost pleading. "Don't do this. Don't throw away what we have. Can't we just…can't we discuss this more later? When you're back from your trip."

I understood that he was upset and maybe felt blindsided, but postponing this conversation would merely be dragging out the inevitable.

Inevitable, I scoffed. That was the exact word Jackson had used when he'd broken up with me all those years ago. I pushed thoughts of Jackson aside.

"I'm not sure what more there is to say." I only wished we could've had this conversation in person instead of over the phone, even if it wouldn't have changed anything.

He scoffed. "Fine." Then he hung up the phone without saying goodbye.

I felt bad for hurting Edward, but I set my phone down, filled with an overwhelming sense of peace. For the first time in a while, I felt as if I was making the right decision. The decision that rang true to me.