Page 94 of The Backup

As if on cue, she walks in.

Sloane.

And damn, she looks good.

Her hair’s loose, framing her face perfectly, and her outfit—a fitted pencil skirt, a crisp white blouse unbuttoned just enough to hint at what’s underneath, and thick-rimmed glasses—makes my mouth go dry. Sexy librarian. Of course.

She pauses in the doorway, her eyes scanning the room, and for a moment, I think she’s looking for me.

“Speak of the devil,” Joe says, his tone low and smug.

Before I can respond, he’s pushing past me, heading straight for her.

I watch as Joe sidles up to her, his grin a little too wide as he leans in to talk. She laughs politely, her body language careful but distant. My grip tightens on the beer bottle, my jaw clenching as I watch them.

“Is that Scott?” someone nearby says, snapping me out of my thoughts.

I glance toward the living room and sure enough, there he is—Scott, wearing suspenders and a flat cap, his outfit somehow managing to look both ridiculous and oddly charming.

“What are you supposed to be?” someone asks him, laughing.

“1920s insurance salesman,” he replies proudly. “Obviously.”

The absurdity of it almost makes me laugh, but my focus snaps back to Sloane as I catch her glancing in my direction. Herexpression is unreadable, but something in her eyes makes my chest tighten.

I down the rest of my beer in one long pull and start walking toward them.

Joe’s mid-sentence as I approach. “You look incredible tonight,” he’s saying, his tone dripping with whatever charm he thinks he has.

“Thanks,” she replies, her smile tight.

“Let me guess—sexy librarian?” he teases.

“She’s not guessing,” I interject smoothly, stepping between them. “She nailed it.”

Joe straightens, his grin fading as he looks at me. “Knox. Didn’t see you there.”

“Didn’t you, though?” I say, my tone casual but loaded.

Sloane looks at me, her lips parting slightly as if to say something, but she doesn’t.

Joe scoffs, stepping forward to nudge me back with his shoulder. “Hey, man, this is a private conversation. Why don’t you go find someone else to bother?”

I stay rooted, my gaze fixed on Sloane. “You okay, Sloane?”

She nods, but before she can respond, Joe cuts in, his voice loud and grating. “Come on, Sloane. You remember how good we were together. You know I was the best you’ve ever had.”

My jaw tightens, my hands balling into fists at my sides. But what makes me pause—what makes my chest tighten—is that she doesn’t even look at him. Her eyes are locked on me, as if he’s not even there.

Joe notices it too. “Sloane?” he presses, his tone sharper now.

But I’m done waiting. “Is that true?” I ask her, my voice low but steady.

Her eyes widen slightly, her lips parting as a faint flush creeps into her cheeks. For a second, the air between us feels like it might snap.

“No,” she says finally, her voice soft but firm. “It’s not true.”

Joe sputters, his smug grin replaced with something closer to disbelief. “What?”

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