Sloane didn’t understand what was happening, but when Carol stepped back, she was running. Brady had made it to the lobby doors when she caught up.

“Brady, stop! What’s wrong?”

Her heart was galloping but still managed to pick up speed when the man whirled around and answered within the space of a breath.

“I quit.”

Sloane slowed until there was only a few feet between them. “You quit what? The pageant?”

He shook his head and motioned between them. He was angry, and she didn’t know why.

“This. Us.” He shook his head again. “It’s not working out for me anymore.”

“What do you mean? I don’t understand. What happened in there?” Sloane felt her face go hot. “What did Carol say?”

“Nothing.”

“She must have said something! I mean, one second we’re fine and—”

“I read the blog post,” he interrupted. The anger in his eyes left. Same with his voice. Then he sounded tired. Resigned. “I read it, Sloane. The one you wrote five months ago.”

Sloane’s stomach clenched. He didn’t need to explain which post he was talking about.

“I can’t compete with that. I can’t compete with Marcus.” He put his hand to his chest. “You’ve known me for two weeks. Him? You’ve loved him since you were seventeen.” He sighed. “And I think it’s time you told him.”

Sloane felt like she was trying to mentally walk down a very steep hill in very tall heels. She couldn’t get a comfortable footing. And she was terrified of falling.

“You want me to tell Marcus?” she couldn’t help but repeat.

“I think you owe it to yourself, yeah.”

“And because you think I love him, you want to end our arrangement?”

“I don’t want this to be an arrangement at all.” There it was. Hurt, clear as day. Sloane heard it in his voice, saw it on his face, and felt it as his gaze shifted down for a second. “And that’s why I can’t—”

“I don’t want this to be an arrangement, either.” The words came out before she could stop them.

Sloane wasn’t known for actually saying what she was thinking. That was how she’d gotten herself in the whole viral situation. It was easier to type on a keyboard. Easier to dream about life than live it. Easier to hold on to something safe than try to go after the unknown.

And she was tired of it.