Page 66 of Jilted

The time I walked in on my father getting a blow job from his sixty-year-old girlfriend…

That did the trick. Except now I had no damn idea where we were in the conversation. I was relieved when the waiter showed up with the food we’d ordered, interrupting things. We both dug in, and it made me happy to see Sloane wasn’t a salad girl.

“So what made you finally decide to come early?” I asked. “Other than my charm and begging?”

Sloane laughed. “Actually, it was your friend Andrew.”

“Andrew?”

She shrugged. “Just the way he talked about you.”

“Ah…” I nodded. “He’s seen me naked in the locker room.”

“That wasn’t exactly what we spoke about, but close. Though I can tell you I’m already really glad I came.”

“It was the sexy shoes I picked out, wasn’t it?”

She smiled. “Those were beautiful. But the company has been better than any of the things you’ve treated me to.”

I tipped the bottle of wine into her glass, emptying what was left. “Are you up for another stop?”

“What did you have in mind?”

“One touristy thing. The London Eye is not too far. If we get out of here in the next half hour, we can catch the sunset over the city.”

Her eyes lit up. “I’d love that.”

And I couldn’t freaking wait to show it to her. Plenty of my friends had come to visit and wanted to do all the touristy things, including the Ferris wheel. Normally, I’d bow out, tell them I had work to do and let them have at it alone. Yet right now, I was more excited to wait in line for an hour at a tourist trap, knowing I’d get to watch her face light up when she saw the city, than I would be finding naked triplets in my hotel suite—which did happen once.

I wanted to show Sloane Carrick everything—and not just London. The goddamned world.

Her eyes sparkled in the moonlight.

Suddenly, I’d turned into damn Shakespeare. At least in myhead. Which I was glad for, because saying what I was thinking out loud would sound corny as hell. Even if it was true.

Sloane leaned forward in the car, absorbing the view from the top of the London Eye. It was a gorgeous, clear night with the majestic River Thames winding its way beneath us, creating a path to all the touristy spots—the bridge, the tower, Houses of Parliament—everything lit up and glowing. But none of that held a candle to the woman sitting next to me. I could’ve stayed up here all night, watching her take it all in.

“This is amazing, Wilder. This whole day has been like a fairy tale, like a dream come true.”

I smiled. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

A brisk wind picked up a lock of her hair, pushing it across her face. I reached out and brushed it from her cheek. Sloane’s eyes dropped to my lips, and I would’ve bet my new team that if I’d leaned in and pressed my lips to hers, she wouldn’t have stopped me. And I wanted to taste her more than anything. But something kept me from doing it.

I could see in her face that she was waiting for it, too. I didn’t want to leave her hanging, so I felt the need to explain myself. I looked down at her lips again before meeting her eyes. “I want to kiss you more than anything. But I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

She blinked a few times, then looked away, almost embarrassed. “Yeah, of course.”

I reached out and tilted her head back to me. “I feel like you’d kiss me back right now. Am I wrong?”

She diverted her eyes again. “Probably not.”

“This might sound stupid, but this day has been amazing—magical even. And right now, it feels like one of those big moments in a movie, the kind that’s easy to get swept up in. Do you know what I mean?”

“I guess.”

“And I don’t want you to kiss me because we’re caught up in some romantic moment. I want it to be about us, and only us.”

Sloane took a deep breath and sighed, but nodded. “I actually do get it. I’ve gotten myself caught up in more than one fairy tale.”

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