“Hey, I know we’re supposed to go get the boat, but do you mind if we wait a minute?” He held out his phone. Radar was on the screen, but for the life of her, Sloane couldn’t focus on it. She was already trying really hard not to wave again. “There’s a storm about to pass over us, and I’d like to not wreck the boat we’re borrowing. Roger already has a lot on his plate, and I really don’t want to paint any more rooms in his house.”

It was like Sloane was having an out-of-body experience, watching herself in mute horror.

“Oh, yeah, that’s absolutely no problem,” she squeaked out, words slamming into one another. She overcompensated for the obvious nerves by becoming Vanna White walking to touch the lit-up letter. “Come on in.” She kept her arm and hand extended out and walked across the foyer, chin up and smile stuck.

“Okay.” There was a hint of laughter in the two syllables, so Sloane powered through to the living room, careful not to look at him. If he had a smirk on, things would only get worse for her.

“Why don’t we watch some House Hunters? A new episode just started.”

Sloane did another wave of her arm, like she was some damn witch trying to cast a spell, and settled onto the edge of the couch. Half of her expected Brady to take the chair next to it, but instead he plopped down on the center cushion.

It made the meltdown of her trying to play it cool final.

“So, how’s your day been going? Did you have anything good for breakfast? Or are you one of those people who don’t eat breakfast but, like, love coffee? Because if so, I can make us another pot if you want? I’ve had a few myself already, to be honest.”

Brady arched his eyebrow high and slung his voice low. “Maybe it’s better if you don’t have any more.”

Instant. Blush.

“You’re probably right about that. You know, I could use some water. Want anything?” Sloane proceeded to list off every damn liquid and crumb in Callum’s fridge…while slowly walking backward to the kitchen. Brady decided on a water, too, and, apparently, not asking why she was acting like a chicken with its head cut off.

Keep it the heck together, Sloane!

She shook her head as she grabbed two waters and paused to take in the chill from the open fridge.

Brady just had to go ahead and tell his ass-king story and save the freaking day.

What a dick.

Sloane inhaled and exhaled several times and then became a quirky version of a Stepford wife. She even did a little flourish with her dress when she sat down.