CHAPTER 26
A NORMAL DATE

18+ warning: smut.

SLOANE DEBATED ON drinking the full bottle of Smirnoff stashed underneath her bed.

Most arguments with her mother ended that way. Even in high school, when her mom criticized her clothing or her math grade, it ended with Sloane locking herself in her room and cracking out a nip of vodka, sucking it down whole. Her throat was parched, practically begging for the burning taste all night. She could hardly focus on writing with it on her mind. The mattress felt like it was sinking in, getting closer and closer to the bottle hiding beneath. Temptation was like a car crash: she could hardly pull herself away.

But she didn't drink it.

In the morning, her rage toward her mother burned like a forest fire. So hot and fiery that she got up at almost 5:30 AM – before anyone in the house even stirred – and dumped the full bottle of vodka down the toilet. She kicked the flusher before she could regret her actions.

The tears came shortly after. Sloane shut the lid to the toilet and sat on it, curling her legs to her chest. She cried and sniffled until there were no tears left. She wasn't quite sure what she was sad about: was it because of the relationship with her mother that could never be mended? Or could it be that she didn't understand why someone as golden as Peter Parker wanted to be with someone as fucked up as her? Or was it the fact that she just threw away a perfectly good bottle of vodka? Maybe it was all three.

She wasn't sure how long she'd be sitting there, her whole body shaking from the tears, but it could've been thirty minutes. An hour tops. She would've stayed there forever if Everett hadn't started banging on the door and asking to shower. So Sloane wiped her tears, checked to see how red her eyes were in the mirror (they were completely bloodshot), and hid the empty bottle under her shirt when she opened the door.

Everett looked angry. That's all he ever looked these days, after Naomi's murder. She didn't think he even attended the funeral.

Sloane moved past him without a single word, eager to get back to her room. Once the door was shut, she blew out a sigh and tugged the bottle out of her shirt. She stared down at it, shook her head, and wondered why she always got herself into messes like this. She was completely prone to a chaotic lifestyle.

After pulling on a fresh pair of sweats, and making sure her eyes were no longer completely red, she decided it was time to possibly face her mother. Sloane padded her sock-covered feet towards the kitchen and immediately saw Sabrina kissing Frank's cheek before he headed off to work. Sloane didn't say a word, simply walked over to the coffee pot and poured herself a mug of black. She sniffed it. No fancy coffee again? This was unlike her mother.

"Good morning, honey," Sabrina said sweetly, catching Sloane by surprise.

Sloane turned around, as if she'd been caught red-handed with something, and said, "Uh – good morning?"

"That coffee shop you like to go to had a rat infestation recently, you know. So I've been making the coffee you like lately. Have you noticed?"

"Oh – um, yes," Sloane nodded curtly and took a sip. "Thanks."

Sabrina set down her phone on the kitchen island and locked it. With hands wrapped around her steaming mug, she said, "I'm sorry for the way I reacted yesterday, honey. With everything happening recently ... Naomi ... and even the party planning, my head has just been completely scrambled. And I guess ... I will always have a problem with not seeing you as my little girl anymore." Her mother sighed, looking in the direction of Everett's room down the hall. "It's probably why I baby him so much. But you see where I'm coming from, don't you?"

She didn't, but Sloane nodded anyway. She didn't want to have to be in this conversation for much longer. "I get it." It took all of Sloane's willpower to add, "I accept your apology."

Sabrina smiled sweetly, the kind that she liked to do when she got what she wanted. "Good. I am happy that you're spending more time with that Peter Parker. He seems good for you. It's definitely a good distraction from that horrific article you must be writing." She whistled, took a sip of coffee, and Sloane wondered if she realized how much of a backward compliment that was. "That being said, Frank and I would love it if you brought him to the holiday party next week."

Was December really almost over? The past two months had flown by in almost a blink, and Sloane didn't know if they were any closer to uncovering the Jawbreaker. The Seldon award deadline was next Spring. She needed to have this article done and proofread almost a hundred times before she submitted it.

Sloane cleared her throat, debating if she even wanted Peter near her family again. The way they poked and prodded him last time had her feeling wary. Regardless, she told her mother she'd ask him, just to satisfy her.

Her phone began to buzz in her pocket. Speak of the devil.

"Sorry, Mom. Gotta take this." Sloane rushed back to her room, cup of coffee in hand, and thanked her lucky stars that Peter had such good timing. But the fact that he was calling caused a pit to form in her stomach. She was already biting her cuticles when she accepted the call.

"Has something happened?" She asked immediately.

"Good morning to you too."

"Good morning," she said, adding a sigh at the end. "Is something wrong?"

Peter hesitated for a moment. "No," he replied, "why would there be?"

"You typically call me like this when something bad happens. Or at least, Spider-Man did."

He laughed. "Let's change that. Remember when I told you I wanted to take you out on many more dates?"

Sloane's heart began to race. "You were serious?" She plopped down on her bed, looking at where her battery-drained laptop sat on the edge. "Is it weird to go on a date while actively trying to uncover a serial killer together?"

"Try to forget the Jawbreaker exists –"

"Peter, no. We can't just –"

"Just try," he persuaded, and Sloane felt it was easier to simply give up. "We're just Sloane and Peter, going on a normal date. Like when I took you to that pizza joint."

Sloane bit down on her bottom lip and looked up at the ceiling. Sighing defeatedly, she replied, "You drive a hard bargain."

She could practically hear his smile through the phone. "I'll be at the Rosewell around three. I want to take you somewhere."

━━━━━━

Peter Parker was always on time. After calling Bobby and adding some case updates to her notes, he arrived promptly at 3 PM. Sloane was a little shocked. She hadn't even changed out of her sweats when she noticed Peter leaning against the fire escape outside her window. Sloane opened it, apologized profusely, and told him she'd only take 5 minutes to change. "Can I watch?" He asked with a boyish grin.

She responded by pulling down the blinds.

Pulling on a pair of dark-washed skinny jeans, Sloane began to hunt through her closet for the perfect top. This was a date they were going on. She needed to look nice, right? She picked out a black velvet blouse and debated it. He'd already seen Sloane at her worse, and he still liked her, so maybe she didn't need to try that hard. She quickly hung the blouse back up and snagged the first thing she saw: a chunky cream-colored turtleneck that cropped at the waist. After putting on her favorite gold hoops and slipping into her boots, she grabbed her parka and opened the blinds.

Sloane stepped out onto the small fire escape, her chest grazing Peter's, and shut the window. "Now, I realize I took ..." She looked down at the time on her phone. "Maybe seven minutes. Give or take. But I was indecisive."

"You looked just as nice in the sweats –"

"Oh, shut up."

"– But I did wear my best sweater for you too." Peter unzipped his jacket the tiniest bit and revealed the knitted maroon sweater underneath. It looked almost too nice on him. Sloane had to bite her lip to stop herself from smiling so much.

"Very fashionable," she commented, brushing past him when he tried going in for a kiss. Sloane giggled to herself and looked over the railing. "Where's your scoot – I mean, bike?"

Peter frowned and said, "My bike is at home." He stuck his hands in his pockets. "I swung here. Just across the roofs, so no one could see me without the whole getup."

"We're swinging to wherever you're taking me?"

"I thought it would enhance the mystery."

Sloane gritted her teeth. "I can already feel myself getting sick. I'm trying to prepare myself."

He laughed, "I promise not to take you by surprise like I always do. You already know we're swinging, so now you know what to expect."

"Peter," she replied, brows narrowing, "you always surprise me – SHIT!"

Peter already had her gathered in his arms before she could finish her sentence. He looped them in the air, and Sloane locked her arms around his neck just in time. She leaned into him, closed her eyes, and nestled her head in the crook of his neck. Peter swung them onto one roof and dashed across, before swinging onto another. He repeated the process for what seemed like forever. Sloane found the confidence to open one eye, right at the same time he was leaping into a dark alleyway. She fought the urge to scream in his eardrums. Peter's webbing connected to the right wall of the alley, and he used that to slowly inch them down toward the ground.

"A dark alley?" She asked while jumping from his hold. "What? Did you manage to find the Jawbreaker's lair?

"Sloane, this is a date." He reminded her and laced their fingers together. "Remember? No Jawbreaker."

"No Jawbreaker," she repeated, allowing him to lead her out towards the dirty street corner. "But – oh, come on. Don't you think this wastes time that could be used for ..."

The words died on her tongue when she looked up at the building in front of her. The bottom floor almost looked like a cottage in the Scottish Highlands. A flickering lantern worked as a beacon, guiding customers towards the rustic, green door. A collection of funny-looking gnomes were situated in front of the entrance, and a child pointed at them excitedly as he walked by with his mom. Sloane hadn't thought about this place in years. Peter had taken her to Smith's Abode, an indie bookstore on the border of Queens and Brooklyn.

Peter tugged on her hand, leading her inside. The bell over the door jingled as they entered. Sloane looked around in awe, following Peter through the store. The place looked like it came out of a fantasy book. The inside looked like the foundations of a wooden cabin, and it smelled like roasted marshmallows. There was moss and tiny, plastic mushrooms on top of the bookshelves, along with hanging lights. Beautiful, vintage chandeliers hung from the ceiling. There was even a small watering fountain in the middle of the store. And of course, the books. Many, many books. Bookcases lined the entire length of the store, all made out of different kinds of wood.

"This is amazing," Sloane commented as they began to walk down the aisles. "I completely forgot about Smith's. I only went here once as a kid and I always wanted to go back." She glanced at Peter, awestruck. "Thank you for taking me here."

"I knew you'd like it," he said with a smile.

They walked in silence, taking in the rows upon rows of books. It looked almost funny to Sloane seeing newer books on such old shelves. This mismatch of aesthetics made her laugh under her breath. When they got to the classics in the back of the store, Sloane listed off all the literature she had to read in English class: Of Mice and Men ... the Scarlet Letter ... Romeo and Juliet ... Lord of the Flies ... To Kill a Mockingbird ... She stopped in place.

Peter noticed the huge smile on her face. "What's up?"

Sloane pulled an anniversary edition of Jane Eyre. Her eyes lit up. "This has been my favorite book since I was a teenager," she explained, showing off the purple cover with gold foil lettering.

"You read Jane Eyre? Like, for fun?" He scratched the top of his head.

"In secret. When I was fourteen." Sloane gazed back down at the book again, and Peter was staring at her like she somehow held the stars at her fingertips. Sighing, she placed the book back on the shelf. "It's what made me realize I wanted to write. I loved it, but I didn't tell my friends because they'd call me a loser."

Sloane shrugged and turned to face Peter, but as soon as she moved, his arms trapped her against the bookcase. He latched his fingers onto the shelf behind her head. She was completely pinned. He leaned in, brushing his nose against hers.

When his lips enveloped hers, she felt her heart drop into her stomach. It was swimming, floating above the surface, before sinking further into her system. She was in so deep with Peter that she felt like drowning in him. It was almost sick, the way she was so head over heels. She was wrong for him, but he was good for her, and she never wanted to give him up.

Queens always did have a funny way of pulling her back in.

She leaned back, catching her breath. "I like you more than I planned, Parker." She exhaled heavily, and then added, "I can't even begin to understand why you like me."

"Can I be honest with you?" He lifted his long lashes, and Sloane noticed his cheeks were heating up with embarrassment. "I'm pretty sure I've had a crush on you since you first talked to me at that rooftop party."

"Why didn't you say anything back then?"

Peter's mouth formed a straight line. "Let's not kid ourselves about where we stood on the social hierarchy at Midtown. And later on, I was with ..."

Sloane grasped his face, smoothing out the lines of exhaustion with her thumbs. "It may have taken a few years, but ... wanna hear a secret?" She had a Cheshire smile as she went up to his ear and whispered, "I have a crush on you too, Peter Parker."

Her grin was from ear to ear when she leaned back, but Peter was already kissing her again. Winding her fingers through his tousled hair, she kissed him harder. Their tongues intertwined. His beard scratched her soft skin. Peter pressed their bodies together, and she felt the hard line of his erection. And oh, fuck – she was already wet at the thought of him fucking her. Not again.

"Peter," she breathed out when he started kissing her neck, "I want you to finger me."

He paused, and then whispered against her skin. "Now? In the store?"

"Yes, now," she ordered. "Do you need an invitation?"

He chuckled, "Never."

They were already in the back of the store, but Sloane wanted to take extra precaution by tugging him into the corner, between two tall bookcases. There was hardly enough room to fit both of them. Sloane didn't need space though; she needed his fingers inside of her or she would implode.

Peter kissed her quickly, only for a moment, before Sloane was twisting her head to slip his fingers inside her mouth. His face flushed pink. "Jesus fuck, Sloane," he muttered when she released his fingers, drool trailing the length.

She only had her zipper down halfway when his long fingers slipped past the waistband of her underwear. He felt how soaked the fabric was already and chuckled under his breath. With his mouth grazing her own, he asked, "How long have you been thinking about this?"

Just the low tone of his voice made her even wetter. "Probably just as long as you've been hard."

"Funny," he whispered, and then his fingers dove inside her folds. They were already coated with her slick, and Peter moaned at the thought of tasting it. "Does that feel good?"

"Mm-hmm," was all she could get out. Peter's fingers only brushed against her clit, and she had to swallow down her scream. Her eyes opened and she found him looking at her for approval. She nodded and muttered, "We have to make this quick before someone sees us."

"Don't worry," he said, one side of his mouth tugging up. "I'll make you cum in a minute tops."

His fingers circled her clit, and Sloane already felt a mountain of desire well up inside her. She hooked her left leg around his waist to feel his touch deeper. He dragged those two fingers down, curving them inside her entrance. Sloane had one arm locked around his neck, holding him close, while she stuck her other hand in her mouth to prevent herself from moaning loudly. Peter knew just how to touch her, just where she needed to be touched. Her clit was practically throbbing, ready for release.

Sloane arched her back as his fingers moved back and forth inside her. Her body was writhing, so close to climax. Her hips rocked with his touch and – "Peter," she whined through the fist in her mouth. Her cheeks immediately went red, and she begged that no one in the store heard her.

Peter only chuckled. "Sloane," he murmured, gliding his other hand underneath her thick sweater. "Look at me."

She took her fist out of her mouth and whispered, "I –"

"I know," he breathed. "Just look at me."

"Okay," she mewled. His dark brown eyes were penetrating her more than his cock could. Or maybe her brain was just short-circuiting. Her toes were curling in her boots. Peter palmed one of her breasts underneath her sweater, his thumb brushing her hard nipple. He was stroking her clit faster, getting her over that peak that she so desperately needed. She was going to explode. She was going to – "Oh, fuckfuckfuckfuck –"

Sloane came harder than ever before. Her eyes burned into his, and she realized just how much Peter got off by seeing how he made her orgasm. He looked like a boy on Christmas morning: nothing but delight in his eyes.

Her body jerked. His fingers were still fucking her even as she came all over them. She was seeing stars, galaxies even, and she could already feel another swell of desire in her core. "Peter – Peter – Peter –" She huffed, and he swiftly pulled his fingers out of her. "You have to stop or I'm going to cum again."

Sloane watched him lick the slick off his fingers, and she had to bite back a whine. "Is that a challenge?" He asked.

Leaning her head back against the bookcase, Sloane stared at him with tired, fucked-out eyes. A lazy grin took over her face. "Where have you been all my life?"

━━━━━━

Sloane had decided that it was only fair that she return the favor. Peter had told her she didn't need to – they could wait and he much preferred getting her off. But she believed fair was fair, and giving Peter Parker a hand job in the bookstore bathroom would make them square, seeing as he was already hard as rock in his pants. She wondered how obvious it was when they both ran to the old man at the cash register, asking for the location of the bathroom and a key, but he looked too exhausted to care. Once they were inside, Sloane promised that she could make him cum even faster, and she succeeded in that challenge.

They left Smith's hand in hand, giggles slipping past their lips. Peter had actually bought Sloane the anniversary edition of Jane Eyre that she'd been looking at. "I figure we should at least buy something after violating this place with our horniness," he whispered in her ear as they walked up to the register. Sloane couldn't wait to crack the pages open once she was back at the penthouse.

"I have to say," she commented, resting against the lamp post outside of Smith's. The sun was almost gone for the day. "That was probably one of the best dates I've been on in a long time."

Peter leaned forward against the same lamp post. Sloane noticed his nose turning red from the cold. "Most guys in Vermont don't take you to cool bookstores and finger you?"

"Little to none," she said, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Thank you again for bringing me."

"It was nothing." He brushed it off with a wave of his hand, and then leaned down to press a quick kiss on her lips. "Should we get a drink?"

Sloane froze. Was he joking?

Peter smiled, "Coffee."

His expression was truly contagious. She felt the butterflies battering against her rib cage as her lips pulled upward. "I would much prefer something else, but ..." Sloane grabbed the collar of his jacket. "I guess I might as well succumb to your whims, Bug Boy."

She stood up slightly on her tiptoes, angling her mouth to kiss him, before she realized his eyes moving up the building across the street. He muttered her name and Sloane turned in the direction of his stare. Her breath caught in her throat.

Painted in thick, fake blood on the brick building across the street were the words, THE JAWBREAKER IS REAL. Sloane wasn't even sure if that was there before they arrived at Smith's. She didn't think to look for it, had tried to dispel the Jawbreaker from her mind during the date as Peter asked. But loose ends happened when she tried to ignore real life.

Peter tightened his grip on her then. "Way to kill the mood."

AUTHOR'S NOTE: peter this is wendys