Chapter 27

twenty-seven

. . .

Sloane

The MCAT feels like a marathon. By the time I finally walk out of the testing center, my brain is fried, my shoulders ache, and I can barely remember what day it is.

Did I do well? Did I bomb it? I honestly don’t know. All I know is that it’s over, and for now, that’s enough.

I check my phone as I step outside, scrolling through a flood of texts from Jacklyn, Brian, and a couple of friends wishing me luck. My heart skips when I see one from Asher:

Asher: I’m sure you crushed it. Can’t wait to see you later.

A small smile tugs at my lips as I type back.

Me: Thanks. Need a nap first, though. Today was brutal.

As I walk toward the coffee shop nearby, my phone tucked in my pocket, I hear his voice before I see him. He’s standing near the corner with a couple of his teammates, leaning against the wall with that easy, cocky posture that somehow makes him stand out in any crowd.

“Man, she’s been good for you lately,” one of them says, clapping him on the back.

“She’s more than good for me,” Asher replies, laughing softly. “She’s my good luck charm. Can’t lose with her around.”

I freeze, the words hitting me like a punch to the gut. Good luck charm.

Is that all I am to him?

I duck out of sight before he can see me, my mind racing as I replay his words over and over. The warmth I’d felt earlier—the flutter of excitement at the thought of seeing him tonight—evaporates, replaced by a sinking feeling I can’t shake.

Back at the apartment, Jacklyn is waiting with takeout and a bottle of wine.

“So,” she says, plopping onto the couch as I dig into my noodles. “How do you think it went?”

I shrug, swirling my fork in the sauce. “Honestly? I have no idea. Some parts felt good, but others…” I trail off, shaking my head. “I guess I’ll just have to wait and see.”

“You’re going to kill it,” she says confidently, raising her glass. “You always do.”

I smile, but it feels hollow. My mind is still stuck on what Asher said earlier, and I hate how much it’s bothering me.

My phone buzzes on the counter, and I know without looking who it is.

Asher: Hey. Come over?

I stare at the screen, my stomach twisting as a dozen conflicting emotions war inside me. Finally, I grab my phone and head to my room, dialing his number.

“Hey,” he answers almost immediately, his voice warm and familiar.

“Hey,” I say softly, sitting on the edge of my bed. “So…I’ve been thinking.”

“Uh-oh,” he says lightly, but there’s an edge of concern in his tone. “What’s up?”

“This has been a lot of fun,” I start, my words careful and deliberate. “But I don’t think I can go deeper right now.”

There’s a pause, and I can hear the shift in his breathing. “You can’t…go deeper.”

My chest tightens, and for a second, I almost backpedal. But then I remember his words, the casual way he’d said them, and I force myself to stay firm.

“It’s all just happened so fast, Sloane. I need some time.”

“So…you want to end…whatever this is? I mean, was…”

“Yeah,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. “I think I do.”

Another pause. When he speaks again, his voice is quieter, steadier. “Okay. If that’s what you want.”

“It is,” I lie, gripping the phone tighter.

“Alright,” he says, and I can hear the faint smile in his tone, though it doesn’t sound real. “Take care of yourself, Sloane.”

“You too,” I reply, hanging up before I can second-guess myself.

As I set the phone down, my chest feels heavy, the weight of my own decision pressing down on me.

Because even though I know it’s the right thing to do…it doesn’t feel right at all.