Page 76 of Savior

When the bouncer leads me in, she’s got one foot up on a dressing chair before a vanity. She’s the only girl in the room, but it’s clear that all the girls use the same room to get ready between sets.

She looks up, sees me, and scowls.

My eyes follow the lines of her leg before she drops it and straightens, forgetting the shoe she was trying to remove.

“I told you not to come back here,” she scolds.

I swallow.

The bouncer pats me on the shoulder. “Good luck, Father. You’re on your own from here.”

“Thanks,” I reply wryly.

I move closer, thrusting the gifts toward her. “Happy Birthday,” I rush out.

Her eyes look between the flowers and the box of chocolates in shock as her mouth gapes open. “What… You remembered it’s my birthday?”

I nod as she takes them from me. The things I’ve brought her are meager, especially when I want to give her the world on a platter. But it’s all I could think up last minute.

“It’s not much, but I had to come to tell you Happy Birthday,” I admit, and I’m not lying. Once I realized the date, every thought of her telling me to stay away flew out of my head.

“Thank you,” she says, leaning into the flowers and breathing their scent in as if they’re the finest thing she’s ever been given.

The notion makes me angry and sad all at the same time.

“Sit,” I say, motioning to the chair.

She eyes me inquisitively, but listens and plops into the chair.

I drop onto one knee, opening the clasps of her shoes one by one and removing them for her, finishing the task I’d interrupted when I showed up.

“God, thank you,” she says, moaning as she stretches her feet one by one.

I swallow around the remembrance of the dream I’d had only hours ago. Her tone is so damned similar, I nearly just choked on her words.

“You okay?” she asks.

I nod. “Me? I’m fine.” I clear my throat.

Grabbing one of her feet, I work my hands over it, kneading my fingers deep into the muscles as I watch her eyes close as she sinks back into the chair.

“That feels so good,” she breathes, and I fight my reaction to the tone she’d used.

The more I watch her relax into my touch, the more I wish this was another world, another life, where I wasn’t who I was, and we could be together.

She feels she was always meant to be mine, but I know that can’t be true.

So, God must’ve put her in my path for some other reason.

She opens her eyes, pinning me with a sad stare, and a tear brims over her lower lid as if she’s read my thoughts.

“You can’t keep popping up,” she whispers.

I drop her foot, leaning forward and resting my forehead on her knee. “I know.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Sloane

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