Page 109 of Powerless
And hers.
I hear the knob jostle and her petite form pops out through the door. She’s struggling under the weight of the box and still manages to look lighter somehow. “Hi!” Her voice is bright, a little breathy.
Rushing forward, I snag the box out of her arms and press a quick kiss to her lips, feeling desperate for her. Relieved. I want to whisk her away, back into the bubble that was just the two of us on the road.
Yeah, everything in our personal lives was shit at the time. But it was us, alone. Not all this other stuff to deal with.
“All okay?” I ask.
“Yeah.”
“He wasn’t there?”
“No.” She shakes her head briskly, reaching forward to press the elevator button. “Just me, burning through there to find my stuff. It’s funny . . .” She glances over her shoulder at the door.
“What?”
“I just . . . I thought I was going back there to get my stuff. That I needed my stuff. But as soon as I walked in there, I wanted to be back out here. With you. Hell, I didn’t want to be here at all today, and I told myself I’d only grab the things that were important. The things that meant something to me. So I walked around looking for them but . . . I didn’t find them.”
“Did that asshole do something to your stuff?”
“No, no. It’s just . . . nothing in there means anything to me. I’ve lived there for a few months and I’m attached tonothing.There was nothing . . . important. Not a single memory of my time with him that I wanted. People say I’m overly sentimental, but I couldn’t find a single thing in there to feel sentimental about.”
Fuck, that’s sad. I don’t like Sterling but Sloane is a different story. And to hear she was living a life that held so little meaning to her fucking hurts. I slide my spare hand over the small of her back reassuringly. “So what am I holding in this box?”
“Oh, that? Yeah. I ended up getting every single thing that was mine and cramming it in there.”
I snort. “I thought none of it mattered?”
She lifts her face, looking like royalty as she tips her chin all high and regal. “It doesn’t, but I’m not leaving a single piece of myself in there. Not my favorite chips. Not a toothbrush. I want to disappear from his life. Just poof,”—she snaps her fingers—“gone, like I never existed in that penthouse. For a while, I felt like he deserved an explanation. But I don’t think he does anymore. That was the only closure I needed.”
She takes a small step closer to me, which is all the confirmation I need. Deep down I know it was never really a choice between the two of us.
But it feels good to be chosen all the same.
It also feels good when I slide my hand down and take a big handful of her Levi’s-clad ass while winking over my shoulder at that red blinking light. Because I know Sterling Woodcock will check these tapes.
31
Jasper
Jasper:How’s my girl? I’ll be back tonight. Meet you at the ranch?
Sloane:Yes. Really good. Especially when you call me that.
Jasper:My girl?
Sloane:Yeah. Haha. Never thought I’d hear that.
Jasper:Sunny, you’ve always been my girl.
Sweat trickles down my back in the quiet studio. There’s no bar, and the floors are too soft for pointe shoes.
And I can’t remember a time when I loved dancing so much.
Possibly as a child before it got competitive and came with criticisms about my body. Before it made my feet so sore I could barely walk.
For over a month, I’ve danced how I want to dance, ignoring every single responsibility and enjoying every moment of independence.
