Page 51 of His Red Carnation

“I love you, Callan,” she whispered back.

We quickly came together, and I swore to myself that I’d get the fucking courage to make her my wife. But first, I needed to figure out how to tell Jake. Ana was right: he needed to hear it from me. I’d need to put on my bulletproof vest and man the fuck up. I needed Sloane to be entirely mine, and the only way to do it was to stop fucking sneaking around.

21

Sloane

We were finally back in DC, and all I wanted was to be alone with Callan—preferably in his apartment, or anywhere else we could just be ourselves. He had been so tense in Martha’s Vineyard. It was understandable, but it made me realize how hard everything was for him. My dad’s suspicious behavior didn’t help either, and while we hadn’t talked about it, I knew Callan sensed something too. At least now Dad would be busy with work and less likely to notice anything unusual, just like always.

Callan went home for a few hours to change and prepare for the state dinner that night. I lay in bed, fantasizing about living in his apartment—making itourapartment. Or maybe we’d get a little house somewhere in California, where I could attend school online and he could fix up his motorcycle for our nightly cruises around the city.

A knock on my door pulled me out of my daydream. I sat up and pulled my knees to my chest, knowing it was either Mom or Dad.

“Come in,” I called out.

Of course, it was Mom. She closed the door behind her and slowly came to sit on the bed.

“How are you feeling,mi vida?” she asked quietly.

She crossed her legs towards me, waiting for an answer.

I wanted to tell her that I felt stuck, that I wanted to run away with Callan and live our lives freely.

I shrugged casually. “I’m fine.”

She tilted her head and gave me her “I don’t believe you” look.

“Now your real answer? I know you’re having a hard time being so secretive, baby.” She placed her hand on mine and gave it a gentle squeeze.

To be honest, I was a little pissed at her for pushing us to tell Dad; it was only making Callan more tense, and I felt like she was cornering us.

“I don’t like sneaking around, but there’s no other option, Mom,” I replied coldly.

She raised her eyebrows at me. “I’m an ally here, Sloane,” she snapped.

“It doesn’t feel like it when all you’ve been doing is trying to guilt-trip us into telling Dad. You know what he’ll do, Mom. He’ll fire Callan and ruin their friendship. Unless you’re just trying to wash awayyourguilt,” I argued.

Her jaw dropped. “Wash awaymyguilt? Sloane Gabriela, I’ve done nothing but try to be supportive of you. I’m not going to sit here and let you talk to me this way.” She stood up, stormed to my door, and slammed it shut.

God, what am I doing? Starting a fight with my mom, my best friend, the only person I could talk to about this—besides Callan.

I grabbed my phone and tapped on his name to call him, and he answered after one ring.

“Hey, everything okay?” he asked, concern clear in his voice.

I’d never called him before, so I knew he must have thought something was wrong.

“I’m about ready to pack a bag and come stay with you,” I said quietly.

“I’d fucking love that, but what’s wrong? Did something happen?” he asked gently.

I closed my eyes. “I just want to be with you, Callan. I hate this.”

He sighed heavily. “Baby, I want to be with you too. Why don’t you pack a bag and after the state dinner, we’ll flee to my apartment and fuck like animals?”

I giggled. “Yeah. I like that idea. I get to see you look all hot in a suit tonight, huh?”

He chuckled. “Yep. What are you gonna wear? Please not something I’m gonna fucking get hard over right away,” he teased.

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