Page 126 of Romancing His Heart
The closer I get to Westbrook Bay, the waterfront community where all these guys grew up, the worse I feel. Sweat is pouring down my spine and settling uncomfortably in my ass crack.Great. I’m going to tell the man I love that I love him with swamp ass. Super classy, Sloane.The urge to plant my palm to my forehead is so strong I nearly do it until I pass the Westbrook sign. I don’t know which house is Loki’s, but I know it’s next door to Preston’s childhood home.
What do I do now?Slowing to a crawl, I creep through the neighborhood and realize all the security gates are heavy iron with ornate details. Almost all of them have an initial or a name.Okay, look for Kane.The sun is setting, making it difficult to see, but I pass one I recognize. It has a giant WB in the center. Westbrook. That means Loki’s has to be on either side, except the Westbrooks are the end of the line. There is no other house on their right side. Turning around, I backtrack to the next driveway. I had missed it on the way in because the gate is wide open.
That’s strange? Why would he have this enormous security gate and leave it wide open?
I sit just outside of his driveway for a few minutes to calm my breathing.I can do this!It’s just Loki, for crying out loud. Our time in the cabin was the best of my life, and I have to believe he felt something, too.
Ugh, the cabin seems like a lifetime ago. Pressing on the gas, I slowly pull into his driveway. Unlike the Westbrooks, this one has a steep incline. When I reach the top, I hesitate to put the car in park. There are so many vehicles I wonder if he’s having a party.
I duck down to peer at the house through the passenger side window. The house is comparable to the Westbrooks’ in size, but Loki’s is Mediterranean in style. It’s beautiful, but I don’t see any signs of a party. He’s rich. Maybe he just has a lot of cars?
No more excuses. Turning off the engine, I slip out of the car before I lose my nerve. I stack the coffee cakes on top of each other and march to the front door with as much confidence as I can muster. That confidence lasts until I hit the first step and realize I left the house in hot pink bunny slippers. Forehead meet palm.
Knowing there’s nothing I can do about it now, I tug the cakes against my hip and press the doorbell with my free hand. I hear someone shout and then a bunch of noise I can’t decipher, but no one comes to the door.
What the hell?I came all this way with damn cake. The least he can do is answer the door, so I ring the bell again. When that doesn’t work, I bang on the door with all my might.
“Loki Kane,” I scream. “I know you’re in there. Open this goddamn door. I made cake.” Yes, I know I sound hysterical. It’s warranted when your heart is on the line. Holding my gifts in one hand, I take a step forward to place my ear against the door just as it opens.
Loki stands on the threshold, and I’m so happy to see him I almost miss the hard line of his jaw. His eyes seem pained, and he’s more disheveled than I’ve ever seen him.
Did I make a mistake coming here?
Unsure of what to say, I hold the cakes out in front of me like a peace offering.
“I did it.” I don’t disguise the pride in my voice even though it wobbles as I speak.
His gaze darts from me to the door and back again. I see the softness and pride in his eyes for the briefest of seconds, and then he glances behind the door again.
What the hell is going on?
“Five times,” I say stupidly. “I made it perfectly five times.”
Loki lurches forward as if someone shoved him, but I can’t see past his large frame, to be sure.
“Here, I-I made them for you. I-I was hoping we could talk.” I stumble over the words, but I get them out.
“Camden,” Loki’s voice is harsh, and I flinch. “I already told you there is nothing between you and me. You need to get that through your head. You were a distraction, nothing more. And I would rather have someone shove your clean romance trash up my ass than eat one more bite of your salty, shitty cake. I hate salt, Camden. I told you at the cabin how much I hate salt. You need to leave and don’t come back.” He slams the door in my face, and I stand there, wide-eyed, gaping like a blowfish.
Hurt and hate war for space in my heart. Hate is more comfortable, so I unwrap the cake and throw them by the handful at his front door.
“Fuck you, Kane.Kane, what the hell was that?” My throws become more aggressive, and by the time I smear the last bits of the coffee cake on his front door, the hate dissolves back to hurt and anguish.
My shoulders slump as I make my way back to the car. After wiping my hands on my jeans, I climb in and stare at the mess I made. The tears don’t take long to form, but these aren’t like anything I’ve felt before. They burn my flesh as they travel the length of my face. A scorching reminder that I was just thrown away, again.
Resting my head on the steering wheel, I turn the key and start the ignition. I need to get out of here. He’s probably watching and laughing at me from the window. Swiping angrily at my eyes with the back of my sleeve, I replay his vicious diatribe.
Camden? He’s never once called me Camden. I had no idea he hated trying my cake so much. Did I ever even know him? He played my body like it was made for him. We did things I’ve never done with—
Salt.He called me Camden and said salt. Remembering our conversation in the cabin, I realize he was using our code word.
My gaze shoots back to the house. Loki’s in trouble. With as much finesse as I possess, I quickly take pictures of the license plates I can see from my vantage point before speeding down his driveway at an alarming rate.
Think, Sloane. What do I do? What do I do?
Grabbing my phone, I yell, “Siri, call Ashton.” His phone rings and rings before going to voicemail. “Siri, call Seth.” Again, I get voicemail. I try them both three more times to no avail.
Sitting at the bottom of Loki’s driveway, I peel out and head toward the Westbrook estate. At the gate, I press the buzzer repeatedly. Preston’s mother, Sylvie, comes across the speaker at the same time the gates begin to open. I don’t have time to wait, and I ram through them, trying not to worry about how much that will cost me to fix.
