She took the smallest of steps forward. “The other day, we talked about connecting to people, and I had no right to give any advice on that, because when my parents died it hurt too much. And I guess I got into the mindset of why would I ever want to go through that pain again? Why should I connect with anyone I don’t have to? The risk of caring so much about people is that when they leave, for whatever reason, you’re left with all that pain. That emptiness. And, well, that was too much for me. Why would anyone willingly risk that? So I started a blog. One where I could feel like I was living out loud when all I was doing was hiding away. But somewhere within the last two weeks, I was reminded why people do take that risk every single day. Why people leap in the first place.” She smiled.

At the thought of the people she cared about most.

At Emma and Callum.

At Brady.

At a memory.

At herself.

“They do it for matching tattoos and movie nights where no one shuts up. For embarrassing sex stories and getting stuck in windows. For camping under popcorn ceilings and dancing, badly, to Toto songs. They do it for ice cream by the kitchen sink.” Sloane let a small sigh out. “I don’t love Marcus. Not anymore. Not for a very long time. I think it was just easier to hold on to something I never had so when it did go away, it didn’t hurt.”

Brady watched without a word as Sloane reached out and put her hand on his chest. Then she met his eye and hoped he took what she said next to heart.

“But you have helped show me that without the risk, there is no reward. People don’t leap to fall. They leap to try and fly.” Sloane went to underline her main point. “I want to be with you, Brady Knox. No more playing pretend.”

Brady’s jaw tensed. He shook his head. She knew then he’d already made up his mind.

“But the life you loved no more than two weeks ago is still out there,” he said. “And I don’t fit into it. We both know that.”

Sloane opened her mouth, ready to say they could make it all work if they wanted, but the horrible thing about small towns?

They were small.

And there was always someone right around the corner.

The doors to the lobby flung open. Brady moved at the sound, creating distance between them.

Sloane refused to count their moment over. But then she saw who had made the noise.

It was Callum, red-faced and panting. At his side, Marcus Robertson.

“What’s wrong?” she asked her brother while giving him a look she hoped said you’re interrupting.