Page 38 of His Red Carnation

I shook my head, unsure of what to say.

“I’m sorry you had to go through all of that. I’m proud of you, Callan,” I whispered.

He smiled down at me, his hand gently caressing my cheek.

“I’d do it all again if it led me to you, baby.”

My heart constricted, and tears began to flow down my cheeks. “I love you, Callan.”

Just thinking about him on the streets made my lip tremble, and the weight of his struggles hit me hard.

“I love you, Sloane.” He leaned down and kissed me passionately, and we slowly made love until the sun began to rise.

16

Callan

I had no idea why Ana told Sloane about my substance abuse history. The weight of it hung over me while Sloane slept peacefully in my arms. Was it meant to scare her? Had it come up casually in conversation? Whatever the reason, I just hoped Sloane wouldn’t ask any more questions about that part of my life.

We woke to the sound of my alarm going off at noon. We had to get Sloane to UC Berkeley by two, and I needed enough time to fuck her in a warm shower beforehand.

I opted for a casual look—there was no way I wanted to stick out like a sore thumb in a suit on a college campus. I didn’t want to draw any more attention to Sloane.

Walking beside her without holding her hand was a struggle. We’d spent the last twenty-four hours in our own little bubble, and I wanted it to last forever.

It took only a few minutes to reach the campus. An eager faculty member led us around while I kept a few feet behind, watching Sloane like a hawk. I didn’t want her to get bombarded like she had at the airport, but I figured the students here had more decency than those fuckers with cameras.

As the tour guide pointed out the essentials, I noticed girls stopping to point their phones in our direction. At first, I thought I was just being paranoid, but Sloane glanced back at me, her expression uneasy.

“Can you excuse me for a second?” she asked the tour guide before walking up to me and subtly nodding her head in the other direction.

“You’re causing a scene looking so hot around here,” she joked, glancing down at the ground.

I looked around, and it became glaringly obvious that people were watching us. Why wouldn’t they? She was the daughter of the President, and she was a fucking babe.

“You wanna go, baby?” I asked quietly, making sure we were out of earshot.

She nodded quickly, and all I wanted to do was pick her up and carry her to the hotel, Kevin Costner and Whitney Houston style.

“Alright,” I said, nodding decisively. I glanced back at the tour guide and gestured for him to come over.

He approached us swiftly.

“We gotta cut the tour short. Sloane is getting too much unwanted attention. Thanks for the tour,” I explained, then turned around to lead her away.

“Thank you!” Sloane called over my shoulder before turning to walk toward the hotel.

“O-okay. Thank you, Miss Sloane!” the tour guide replied, his voice trailing off.

My baby’s legs were much shorter than mine, but you’d think she was a fucking giraffe the way she was striding. We finally made it off campus and past all the college chaos when she suddenly slowed and broke down in tears. Instinctively, I wrapped my arms around her—I wasn’t about to just stand there and let her cry. She held on tightly, and in that moment, I didn’t give a fuck if anyone saw us.

“It’s going to be like this everywhere. Why bother going to an in-person college? I can do what I need to do online, right? I’ll just stay in your apartment 24/7, and you’ll never have to leave me, and we’ll never be bothered.” Her words tumbled out in a rush, her breath hitching between sobs, never lifting her head from my chest.

“We can do whatever you want, baby. You can bounce on my cock while you do your homework either way,” I joked, trying to lighten the mood.

She laughed through her tears and lifted her head to look up at me; her teary eyes made my heart ache. “This place sucks. Let’s go back to the hotel.”

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