Chapter 4
Sloan
♪ ocean eyes | Billie Eilish
I looked at the pictures of Tucker with Jason.
Again.
I’d been ogling them since he’d sent them to me yesterday. For all the crap I gave Jason, it turned out I was the creeper.
Jason was hot. No, he was beyond hot. He was bearded, thick brown hair, sexy smile, blue eyes hot. Six-pack abs on the beach hot.
I watched a lot of crime shows, and I’d gone full forensic psychologist on the screenshot of his cell phone home page.
The time on his phone was Australia’s, so he was there, like he’d said he was.
The musician thing seemed true enough. He had a disproportionate amount of music apps. No Tinder or other hookup sites. There were Uber, Twitter, and YouTube. All the standard social media. Tons of notifications, but then he’d just landed, and he’d said he had been out of contact for a few weeks, so that made sense and actually gave his story credibility.
Overall, no glaring red flags that screamed pathological liar or mass murderer. And it was pretty adorable that Tucker was his wallpaper image.
I put a hand between Tucker’s ears and tousled his fur. “Why didn’t you tell me your dad was so handsome?” He leaned into me and let me kiss his head.
To say I was sad about losing Tucker in two weeks was the understatement of the year.
Tucker changed me. I felt good. Better than I’d felt in ages, actually. And I realized that somewhere along the line, the tiredness that comes with grief had turned into the kind that comes from inactivity and a crappy diet of caffeine and sugar.
Tucker got me moving. He gave my days purpose. And now he would be leaving me in a few weeks, and I felt panic at the thought of being alone again, like I wouldn’t know how to keep doing this new and improved me if I didn’t have him.
I had been so close to just keeping him. But after I’d hung up on Jason, I’d thought about what he’d said, that he’d been out of town and he hadn’t known Tucker was missing. I wasn’t a dog thief. If I had suspected for one second he was going back to a neglectful home, I’d have kept him and never looked back. But I couldn’t take him from someone who truly loved him.
Josh wandered in from the direction of the garage, wiping his hands on a rag. “All done. Water heater’s in.”
I smiled at him. “Thanks.”
“You should have let us buy it for you,” he said, giving me a look.
Josh was like my big brother. Brandon would have been happy to know that his best friend took care of me like he did. But I didn’t like to take advantage of it. It was enough that Josh fixed half the things that broke around here for free—he didn’t need to buy the things too. I’d bought and had the water heater delivered before I even told Josh the old one had broken. Otherwise he would have just picked it up for me.
“It’s okay. I have the money,” I lied. “Took some extra commissions this week.”
He studied me for a long moment, but I didn’t break character.
“Okay.” He glanced at his phone. “Well, I’m gonna head home and tap out the sitter. Kristen’s already on her way over with dinner.”
They liked to feed me. I think they thought if they didn’t, I’d starve to death. Six months ago I’d put my foot down and only allowed dinner once a week now. They used to be here every day, but it had started to get ridiculous. They had a baby and their own lives, and I didn’t want to feel like their responsibility. Kristen would never say it, but I think it was a relief. Either because she thought I was getting better or because she was glad she didn’t have to schlep over here every day. I’d filled my freezer with Lean Cuisines and shocked them both when I didn’t die from malnourishment.
“See you later.” Josh gave me a hug, ruffled Tucker’s ears, flashed me a dimpled smile, and left.
The dog laid his head back on my lap, and I peered down at him. I took my cell phone and hit the camera icon and snapped a shot. “I bet Jason would like to see some of your vacation pictures,” I said, thumbing a text into the phone and shooting the photo off.
Sloan: All worn out after a six-mile hike!
I set my phone down and lolled my head back on the sofa. Then my cell pinged.
Jason: I bet he loved it.
Another ping.
Jason: No picture of you?
I rolled my eyes. Sexy or not, he was a stranger. I wasn’t going to send him pictures of me.
Sloan: Do you think how I look is going to have any bearing on my ability to watch your dog?
The three little dots started jumping, letting me know he was typing a response. I smiled. I’d kind of liked talking to him yesterday. I sat up and tucked my feet under me as I waited for the reply. “Your dad’s a flirt,” I said to Tucker. He looked up at me with those soft copper eyes and then put his chin back in my lap.
Jason: You’ve seen pictures of me. I don’t think it’s that weird to want to put a face to a name. You’re watching my favorite person in the world and I don’t even know you.
I twisted my lips. He had a bit of a point. But still.
Sloan: You’re a stranger. You could be a pirate.
The dots began jumping again.
Jason: Aye, that be true.
I laughed.
Jason: Do you like games?
Where was this going?
Sloan: It depends.
Jason: On?
Sloan: On whether someone ends up drunk or naked at the end of it. I don’t like those games. I always end up the sober one, driving all the drunk, naked people home.
Jason: Not that kind of game.
Sloan: I’m listening.
Jason: Every day I can ask you one question to get to know you better. And if you don’t want to answer it, you have to send me a picture.
I shook my head while I typed.
Sloan: What kind of questions are we talking about? The yes-or-no, check-a-box kind?
Jason: Lol! No, too elementary school. Real questions. I can ask anything I want, and you have to answer it truthfully.
Sloan: Do I get to ask you a question every day?
Jason: Of course.
Sloan: And if you don’t want to answer it?
Jason: I’ll answer it.
Sloan: How about if you don’t want to answer it, you have to let me keep Tucker an extra day.
There was a pause between texts. The ceiling fan made a steady clicking noise above me while I waited.
Jason: Deal.
Sloan: Deal.
His questions were going to be perverted. I was almost certain. He wanted a picture, so he’d probably ask me things he thought I’d never answer. But the game was too alluring. And I liked the idea of asking this good-looking mystery man about himself. It was kind of fun.
Jason: Ready for my first question?
Sloan: Ready.
Jason: Why don’t you paint what you want to paint?
I stared at the text. I hadn’t been expecting that.
Had he asked it to throw me off? Had my weirdness over my art shone through in our brief conversation yesterday? I let out a deep breath. Now I kind of wished there were just yes and no boxes to check.
I decided to deflect him.
Sloan: Really? This question? Seems like a waste. You get a do-over.
Jason: Don’t want a do-over.
And then,
Jason: Wouldn’t mind a picture though.
My lips pursed. “Fine,” I muttered to myself.
Sloan: I haven’t painted my own works since my fiancé died two years ago.
The dots started to jump. Then they stopped. Then they started again.
Jason: I’m sorry to hear that.
There was a pause between texts while he typed again.
Jason: Sometimes the hardest place to live is the one in-between.
I blinked at the message.
“Yes…” I whispered.
The dots started bouncing again.
Jason: Your turn. What’s your question?
I was glad he was changing the subject. I didn’t want to talk about this. I thought about my question and decided I’d have a little fun with it.
Sloan: How would you survive a zombie apocalypse?
The dots jumped for several minutes. Then a text pinged, but just three words came through.
Jason: I’m calling you.
The phone rang.
“Well?” I said, answering without saying hello.
“My answer is too long to text.”
“You’ve given the zombie apocalypse that much thought, huh?”
“Haven’t you? It’s a serious situation,” he said sternly.
“Only a matter of time, really.”
I could tell he was smiling when he continued speaking. “Survival is all about going where there’s the least threat of other humans and zombies. We’d have to get to somewhere remote.”
“We?”
“You and me.”
“How do you know that I’m qualified to be on your zombie apocalypse survival team?”
“Are you?”
I scoffed. “Of course. But you didn’t know that. Do you always give out important jobs to people without checking their qualifications? It seems to be a thing with you.” I pulled a blanket over Tucker and me and grabbed my iced coffee, snuggling deeper into the sofa.
“You’re right. Totally right. Admission into my survival compound is contingent upon a satisfactory comprehensive interview, illustration of survival skills, and a thorough physical. I’ll be conducting the physical personally.”
I laughed, hard.
“Okay, so provided I’ve passed all of your tests, we’d be holed up in a rural—what? Cabin?” I asked, putting the straw to my lips, still smiling.
“Yes, on my property in northern Minnesota where we could live off the land until things blow over.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Live off the land? Do you know how?”
“Did you think Tucker was just a pretty face?”
“You hunt? With Tucker?” I looked down at him. Brandon would have loved a hunting dog.
The phone shuffled, and Jason was quiet for a moment. “Check your phone.”
A picture came through of Tucker wearing a life jacket at the bow of a small fishing boat on a choppy-looking lake. A shotgun rested against the boat bench, and a gray, cloudy sky loomed behind him.
Jason wasn’t in the picture, and I felt a pang of disappointment. Then I felt disappointment in myself. I had become some sort of voyeur over this beautiful man.
It felt strange to be attracted to someone and even weirder to be attracted to someone I’d never met before. I hadn’t really noticed another man since Brandon died. It kind of felt like cheating.
“And do you cook this meat that you kill?” I asked.
“The meat is eaten,” he said, sounding somewhat evasive.
“You give it to your mom,” I deadpanned.
He laughed. “She’s an excellent cook. There’s no shame in giving it to my mom.”
“So you hunt. You’re familiar with firearms. You’ve got a bunker in the woods. You do seem like a good candidate for zompoc survival,” I allowed. “I might join your team. Not sure how I’d feel about holing up in northern Minnesota in the winter, though.”
“You’d be surprised at how warm the cabin gets once the fire gets going. And we could always share body heat.”
I arched my eyebrows. “You are awfully flirty for a man who’s never seen me before. What if I’m hideous?”
“So you object to me flirting with you based solely on your personality?”
He had me there. “And what if I have a boyfriend?”
“Do you?”
I smirked. “That sounds like a question for tomorrow’s round of truth or picture.”
“Come on, you’re not going to give me one freebie? It’s a simple yes or no. Shouldn’t I know if Tucker is spending time with another man?”
I snorted. “Really? You’re going to make this about Tucker?”
“I just think we should discuss it if my dog is going to be around an unfamiliar male influence. I don’t want to confuse him,” he said in a mock-serious tone.
I rolled my eyes and laughed. “No, I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“All right. See? How hard was that? I’m single too. Now we can move on. So what makes you qualified to be on my zombie survival team?”
“Where are you?” I asked. “Don’t you have a job? Aren’t I keeping you from something important?”
“Are you avoiding the question? Is it possible that you’ve oversold your ability to survive a zombie apocalypse? It feels like you’re sidestepping. Answer the interview question, please.”
God, he was fun.
“Oh, I’m qualified, believe me. I just wondered how you have so much time for phone calls during your fancy filming-on-location work trip.”
“It’s only eight a.m. here. I have something later, but not until noon. I’ve got time to hear all about how you’d make a good addition to my end-of-days squad. Stop changing the subject.”
“How about this,” I said, switching the phone to my other ear. “I’ll send you a link that’ll explain exactly why I’d make a good survivalist. But if I do, you have to give me an extra day with Tucker.”
He sucked in air. “I don’t know. I miss him pretty badly. Waiting an extra day to see him when I get back is a tall order.”
“I think you’ll really appreciate my skill set,” I said, in my best salesperson’s voice. “And there’s a photo of me. It’s old and grainy, but if you zoom in, you might get a rough, pixelated idea of what I generally look like.”
“Pixelated, huh? Sounds sexy. Here’s an idea, how about we share him on your extra day? Take him somewhere together.”
Together? I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. “Like where?”
“On a hike somewhere. You pick. You’re the local. I don’t really know anyone in LA, and I love the outdoors. It would be nice to have someone show me some good hikes.”
I considered this. I wanted the extra day with Tucker. But the thought of going somewhere with Jason was a little daunting. It felt too much like a date. And I liked him, I realized. I liked talking to him. And that made going somewhere with him feel like a betrayal of Brandon. That was stupid and irrational, but it did. But I guessed I could always opt out if I decided against it when it rolled around. After all, it was my extra day.
“Okay. You have a deal. Give me a second to get to the page. Hold on.”
I found the blog and sent him the link just as Kristen knocked on my screen. Tucker bolted up and ran to the door, barking.
“Hey, I sent you the link, but I have to go,” I said quickly. “A friend just came over. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”