Heated

Chapter Twenty-Seven

“Stay.”

We were in Grant Park, walking among the Agora, and I felt as lost as they were.

Tyler tugged me to a stop. “Stay,” he said again. “I love you, Sloane Watson. I don’t want to lose you.” He cupped my face with his hand. “I told you once that I always get what I want. That’s you. Don’t make a liar out of me.”

I managed the tiniest of smiles. “I want you, too,” I said. “But I love my job. And maybe you’re even right. Maybe I went into it in part to punish myself. To use the rules and the laws and all the strict procedure as a cage of sorts to punish myself for what I did. I don’t know, but it doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter,” he said, but I shook my head.

“No, because however I came into it, I really do believe in what I do. In finding justice for people who’ve been wronged.”

I drew in a breath, then laid out the horrible truth. “You’re right. I can push the envelope. I can bend the rules. And, yeah, I can break a few. God knows I proved that. But I can’t say that I’m sworn as an officer of the law when the man in my bed is breaking it at every turn. And not to save girls, but for profit.”

“Sloane—”

I pressed a finger to his lips. I heard the anguish in his voice, but I had to keep going, because if I didn’t finish this, I was afraid that I would back away from the decision. And I couldn’t do that. So long as he and I did what we did, this was the right decision. It was the only decision.

In the end, I think we both knew it.

“Please,” I said. “Let me finish. I love you. Dear god, I love you with a length and breadth I never even thought possible. And I will keep your secrets until the day I die. But if we’re together—if it’s the cop and the criminal—and I’m living that lie, it will chip away and chip away at me until I am no longer the woman you love.”

“Then don’t live it,” he said. “Quit.”

“You know better than that. It’s who I am. You say you love me, and I know it’s true. But, Tyler, you see me better than anyone, so you know I’m right. You know this is who I am.”

I managed a smile, thin and a little sad.

“That’s why I can’t ask you to quit, either. You are the man you are—I’m not in love with some polished version of you. And I am in love with you. Desperately. Hopelessly.”

“You’re breaking my heart, Sloane. Before you, I never thought it was possible.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, as a tear traced down my cheek. “But I have to leave. I have to go home.”

Before I could stop him, he drew me close and pressed his lips to mine, soft yet firm. Possessive, yet tender.

When he drew back, I saw the familiar fire in those ice blue eyes. “I won’t try to change your mind. Not right now, anyway. But I want to say something, and I want you to listen. To really hear me. Okay?”

I nodded.

“You’re right,” he said. “I do see you. I see everything about you. The good, the bad, the courageous, the bold. I see a woman who fights for what’s right. And, sweetheart you don’t need a badge to do that.”

He lifted my hand and pressed a gentle kiss to my palm. “This may be goodbye,” he said. “But it isn’t the end.”