Authors: Sloan Johnson
Truth or Dare (10 page)
“Baby, we’ve talked about this. I’ll call you every time the bus is stopped for more than a minute or two. I’ll call you when I get to Chicago and when I get to Nashville. By the time I get there, my battery will probably be about to die and you’ll be sick of my voice.” I’m trying to make light of the situation for her benefit. I purposely positioned us so that I was the one looking up the road, shielding her from the moment when the coach pulled into view.
“What’s wrong?” she asks when my grip on her tightens. I look down and see her sad eyes searching mine for answers. “It’s time, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, babe. The bus is here.” I claim her mouth, one last time, feeding off the taste of her. Catcalls erupt behind us, along with suggestions that we get a hotel room. They can all kiss my ass. “I’ll call you before you even know I’m gone,” I promise her, sadness anchoring me to my spot.
This isn’t goodbye, but I’ll be damned if it doesn’t feel like it. The clenching heart, my stomach churning so furiously I fear I’m going to lose my breakfast, all of it feels like farewell. God, I hope my gut is wrong this time.
“Last call for Chicago,” the driver calls out. Reluctantly, I break away from Lea, picking up my duffel bag in one hand and my guitar case in the other.
“Love you, Cowboy,” she says, cupping the side of my face when I turn to look at her. “Go make me proud.”
And I fully intend to do just that. From here on out, everything I do will be for us.
“I love you more than you know, CB. Thank you for making me do this.” As painful as separating is for both of us, I am grateful that she gave me this push. Now, I just pray it works out the way she seems so certain that it will.
I turn away from her before she can say goodbye, refusing to hear those words. There’s one seat left on the curb side of the bus, which I quickly claim. The sight in front of me when I look out the window almost sends me sprinting off the bus. My girl is falling apart, tears streaming down her face, her hand thrown over her mouth to stifle the sobs. I press my hand to the window, not bothering to wipe away the tears falling down my own cheeks.
That’s how I stay until the bus begins to pull away. Lea stands there the entire time, waving to me, blowing me kisses until I’m out of sight. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I send her the first of what I’m sure will be many text messages.
I love you, CB. Whatever it takes, I’m going to do this for you. We’ll be together again before you know it. XO, Cowboy
As I say goodbye to the only city I’ve ever called home, I begin to wonder if dreams are all they’re cracked up to be if they hurt this much…
A Note from Sloan
Thank you for taking the time to read Truth or Dare! If you enjoyed it, I would love it if you could help spread the word by reviewing it on the site where you purchased the book. If you purchased on Amazon, it is lending enabled so you can share it with a friend.
If you do leave a review, I would love to hear your thoughts! You can reach me at
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Links to my other titles:
Isthmus Alliance Series
Coming Soon
Fragile Bonds
(5/2014)
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Fragile Bonds Excerpt
Coming May 13, 2014
“Daddy! There’s a woman at the door, but she’s not saying anything!” My cheeks flood with embarrassment as a little boy’s voice slices the early morning air.
I can’t help but wonder how long I’ve been standing on the front porch, lost in another time. It’s been six years since I walked out this very door, but the pain in my heart is as raw today as it was then.
“Melanie?” My eyes shift from the little boy at my feet to the only man I’ve ever loved. His sapphire eyes are steely, cold and rimmed with fine lines at the corners. The subtle tick in his square jaw gives away the fact that he’s biting back his displeasure at seeing me here.
“Hello, Xavier,” I bite out, hoping I sound professional. To my own ears, my voice is breathy and too high. My throat feels scratchy, as if I haven’t had anything to drink in days. “I’m here to help with Alyssa.”
I take a tentative step over the threshold, sucking in a sharp breath. When I started working as an end-of life-companion four years ago, I thought it was a brilliant way to combine my nursing degree and my desire to help the terminally ill die with dignity. It’s never easy, but this is going to be my most difficult assignment to date. Most days, I go home to my one bedroom apartment wondering why I continue to put myself through the emotional drain of watching patients slip away before my eyes.
With every new family, I promise myself I won’t get attached, but it’s hard when I’m the one they rely on to ease more than just the physical pain. It doesn’t matter that my job is to care for the person who is dying, I become a shoulder for family members to cry on as time slips away. I’m the one pushing the family to eat when their grief and need to be close to the person whose days are numbered consumes them. Inevitably, the patient passes away and I move on to the next family. My problem is, I can’t deny the fact that I’m already emotionally invested in this family.
I kick off my tennis shoes, lining them along the foyer wall by force of habit. Looking around, I feel a moment of peace created by the taupe, ivory and blue color scheme carried throughout the foyer and living room. Flames dance in the gas fireplace, taking the chill out of the mid-November air.
The little boy with shaggy brown hair looks up at me with sad blue eyes. “Daddy sometimes lets guests keep their shoes on when they visit,” he informs me.
I crouch down, ignoring the clenching pain in my chest. “I just figured your Daddy wouldn’t want my dirty shoes on his white carpet,” I respond quickly, ruffling the boy’s hair. He’s a miniature version of his father, right down to his eagle eye for details. I’m going to have to be mindful that I don’t get too comfortable here.
Acknowledgments
Thank you never seems like enough when it comes to this point. This book, more than any other I’ve written feels that way. The group of friends in this series is based on the people who allowed me to break out of my shell and see that I was fine, just the way I was. Some of them have faded out of my life as we’ve grown, others are still amazing friends.
April, I can’t tell you what your friendship means to me. You’re one of my biggest cheerleaders and I hope that you enjoy this book. If you don’t, could you please feed me alcohol before telling me? In a huge way, YOU are the reason I wrote this book. You are the reason for every friendship that spans decades in any of my books.
Kristen, Debi, Nikki, Christine, and Jennifer…thank you for reading this piece by piece and telling me when you thought I needed to dig deeper. It’s because of you ladies that I’m able to put out books that I’m proud of. Thank you for being strong enough to tell me when things aren’t going right and forcing me to make changes!
There are so many bloggers that have been behind me and around me through this whirlwind that I’m scared to even try to list everyone! It amazes me how all of you jump in and offer to help without expecting anything in return.
And, of course, to my family. How you put up with the craziness that is me on a daily basis is beyond me!
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