He stares at me for a moment. “Is that the truth?”
“Y-yes, I’m not lying.”
“Nova.”
“What? I knew it made you uncomfortable!” I huff. Then I tip my head back. “Urgh! You’re infuriating, you know that? Maybe, just maybe, I got a little jealous. Are you happy now?”
He lets go of me. “Yep. I just wanted to hear you say it.”
I frown. “Why, for heaven’s sake?”
“Maybe I like that side of you, all feisty and tough.”
“I’m not that tough. I holler for help every chance I get.”
“You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for.”
I tug on the lapels of his cut and he glances down. “Sawyer?”
“Out with it, Princess.”
“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable the other day when I said we both have needs.”
The silence hangs between us. “I know, and you didn’t.”
I peek up at him. “So we’re okay?”
He smiles, his eyes crinkling in that way I love. “We’re okay.” He pecks me chastely. “Promise.”
I nod. “Okay.”
“The last one to the pool table is a rotten egg.” Before I can blink he takes off and I’m still plastered against the wall.
It’s official.
Unrequited. That’s what this is.
I’m into him way more than he’s into me. I’m officially friend-zoned.
It’s better this way.I tell myself.
I wish I could actually believe my own thoughts because my ego just got bopped down a peg or two.
We’ll only ever be friends, and I have to be okay with that.
CHAPTER
SEVEN
Sawyer
The guys give me shit when I get back, but it’s only because Brew and Haze aren’t here to smack them in the teeth. Logan barely ever visits the clubhouse. Cash has been trying to get Logan to join for years, and I don’t think it’s the fact he doesn’t want to or doesn’t like the club, he’s just set in his ways being the eldest. He kinda likes things the way he likes them, and I get that, but the club would be good for him. All he does is work. When he’s not at the Whiskey Shack, he’s helping around the security business. While he claims that doesn’t leave much time for anything else, I don’t think he’s a joiner. I love the club because of what they represent: family.
I’ve never had much of one since I was thirteen when I left, granted, that wasn’t all my doing, but I missed out on all that time with my dad. He wasn’t a bad man, and he and my mom got along after they split, but I always felt like an obligation, rather than any kind of blessing.
The club doesn’t care about shit like that. They don’t give a fuck as long as you pull your weight, be loyal to the club, and above all else, be present. We all help each other out — justlike the Nomad Brothers did when I first came to town. Without them, I don’t know where I’d be.
Probably in a ditch somewhere. They helped me get back on my feet, and in a lot of ways, they saved my life.