I had one last chance, and I wasn’t going to fuck it up. Sloane’s throat bobbed with a swallow. “Xavier…”
“Don’t worry. I didn’t come to make a scene.” I pushed my hands into my pockets and fisted them to keep myself from reaching for her. “I came to tell you three things. One, I met with Alex this morning about the fire. He said it was sabotage.”
The tapping stopped. I could practically see the wheels in her head spinning as she processed this bit of information. “Sabotage. By who?”
“Still unclear.” I summarized the meeting for her. “It’s Alex, so he’ll figure it out and put in safeguards to ensure something similar doesn’t happen again while I repair the club.”
Sloane stilled, her eyes flaring with surprise and a wary hope that poured fresh fuel into mine. Hope meant she still cared, and if she still cared, that meant an infinitesimally larger chance of winning my upcoming gamble.
“That’s the second thing,” I said more quietly. “I’m going ahead with the Vault. You and Alex were both right, and I don’t care if I pass the deadline and don’t get my inheritance. That’s no longer what the club is about. I just needed a kick in the ass to realize it.” A sardonic smile crossed my mouth. “Or two.”
Sloane’s gaze flickered with another emotion I couldn’t name before she slammed a steel gate over it. “Good. There’s no use wasting the effort you’ve already put into it.”
“Final thing.” I took a step closer, my eyes trained on hers.
“Our trial period doesn’t end until tomorrow, which means we’re not over yet. Not officially.”
Sloane’s grip on her pen tightened. “I already made my decision.”
“It doesn’t count when there’s still time to change your mind.”
Her mouth quivered for a split second before flattening into a straight line. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”
Pain laced her voice, and that was enough to spur me on. I hated seeing her hurt, but if that meant I was getting through to her, I would bear it.
“I’ll make it as hard as I can,” I said fiercely. “I love you, Sloane, and if you think I’m letting you go that easily, you’re mistaken. I’ve spent half my life running from the hard stuff and taking the easy way out because I’d never wanted anything enough to work for it.” I swallowed. “Then I met you, and I finally understood what people meant when they said love is worth fighting for. I know it sounds like a cliché, and if you heard this in a movie, you’d probably write a scathing review about it”—Sloane choked out a laugh—“but I mean it. I’ve learned to fight for what’s important, and there’s nothing in this world that’s more important to me than you. Not the club, not my inheritance, not my reputation.”
I took another step closer, desperate to touch her but knowing I couldn’t.
“I know you’re afraid,” I said. “Hell, I am too. I’ve never been in love, and I’ve never wanted to be in love. I have no idea what people do in these situations, which is probably why I’m here, making an ass of myself.” A hint of self-deprecation slipped into my voice. “If you truly don’t feel anything for me, then I accept that.” Even if it kills me. “But if you do, even the tiniest bit, then don’t do what I used to do. Don’t run away from what could be because you’re afraid of what might be.”
It was blunt, but Sloane had always responded best to directness. It was one of the many things I loved about her.
“I won’t lie and say I know what our future looks like. No one does. But I do know that whatever happens, we’ll figure it together,” I said softly. “We always do.”
Sloane didn’t move, didn’t speak, but her eyes shone with suspicious brightness.
I took a deep breath and braced myself for what I was about to say. “Tomorrow, top of the Empire State Building. Meet me at midnight.” That was when our trial period officially expired. “If you don’t show…” I swallowed past the glass shards in my throat. “I’ll know what your answer is, and I’ll never mention this again.” Sloane let out another watery-sounding laugh. “Are you Sleepless in Seattle-ing me?”
“Gossip Girl, actually. Doris was a big fan,” I said with a fleeting smile. Then my face sobered, and my voice softened into something more tender. “I know you think happily ever afters are unrealistic, Luna, but they don’t have to be. You just have to believe in them enough for yourself.”
She didn’t respond. I hadn’t expected her to, but when I walked out, my heart knotted in my throat, I couldn’t help but second guess my strategy.
I’d taken a huge gamble by giving Sloane an ultimatum, but we were the same in as many ways as we were different. She needed that push.
I just hoped that in doing so, I hadn’t made the worst mistake of my life.
CHAPTER 42
Sloane
I couldn’t stop checking the time.
It was one in the afternoon; there were eleven hours until my trial period with Xavier expired, but the looming deadline killed my appetite as I pushed my salad around my plate.
If you don’t show up, I’ll know what your answer is, and I’ll never mention this again.
The end of our relationship aside, what would happen if I didn’t show up? Would we stop working together? Would I never see him again? Would the past two months disappear into the past like they’d never happened?
I should be happy about that. That was what I wanted, but if that were the case, why did I feel nauseous?
The few forkfuls I’d forced down earlier churned in my stomach. Cutting all ties with Xavier would be the smartest thing to do. We couldn’t return to our old working relationship when I knew how his lips tasted, and how he felt inside me, and how he held me like—
“Hellooo. Earth to Sloane.” Isabella waved her hand in front of my face, severing my spiraling thoughts. “Where are you?”
“Sorry.” I attempted another bite of food. It tasted like cardboard. “I was just thinking.”
“About tonight?” Alessandra’s eyes gleamed with knowing concern. “Have you decided what you’re going to do?”
I usually grabbed takeout for lunch on workdays, but I’d asked my friends to meet me at a proper restaurant because I needed their advice. I’d filled them in on Xavier’s ultimatum, and their reactions had run the gamut.
Isabella wanted me to meet him, no questions asked. Vivian said I should go with my heart, which wasn’t helpful, because my heart had a habit of making terrible choices. Alessandra was surprisingly neutral, but out of everyone at the table, she understood how important it was to make a decision on my own time, not anyone else’s.
The problem was, I didn’t have much time; I had hours at most.
“No.” I flicked a piece of walnut to the side; I’d forgotten to tell the server not to include them in my salad.
