Beckett’s footsteps came to a stop at the foot of the bed.
“Really?” His voice was low, and a little amused.
Shit. Commit to the bit. Commit to the bit. He doesn’t know you’re faking it.
There was a moment of silence, and then quiet laughter.
“Yeah,” Beckett murmured. “That’s what I thought.”
God.
I was going to die.
14
BECKETT
SAWYER MONTGOMERY COULDN’T fake sleep to save his life.
That was the first thing I knew for certain when I’d stepped out of the bathroom and found him “napping.” He’d gone straight to avoidance, and I’d let him, figuring he needed time and space to process our kiss.
Which led me to the second thing I knew: I was in deeper than I’d planned to be. Of course I was. If I’d been interested in Sawyer before, that kiss had sent me over the edge.
Why couldn’t he have been a bad kisser? Or not interested? Or not completely endearing and sexy in a way that had me spending twice the time in the shower he did?
It wasn’t too much to say I was fucked, or that it complicated an already complicated situation. I just didn’t know what to do about it yet.
There hadn’t been much talking as we’d gotten ready for the theme party tonight, because apparently this wasn’t just a “throw on a nice outfit” kind of thing. When Sawyer gave me a list of what to pack, he’d included “bring an outfit from circa 1991 and make it as wild as you’d like.”
To say I’d been curious about what that meant was an understatement, and since I aimed to please, I’d found something ridiculous to fit the bill. A blue, green, and white color-block tracksuit that zipped up and made a swishing sound with every step I took.
Thathad broken the ice, sending Sawyer into a fit of laughter that only got louder when he finally looked in the mirror at himself: belted stone-wash denim overalls with one of the straps undone and a loose patterned shirt underneath. VeryFresh Prince of Bel Air.
God, we were a pair as we headed to the ballroom, where peals of laughter and the bass bumping filtered out from the closed doors.
“Hold on, we’ve got to have photographic evidence of this,” Sawyer said, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket.
“To use as blackmail?” I teased.
“Yeah, sure, let’s go with that.” He moved in close, holding his phone up so both of our faces were in frame on the screen.
Damn, even in these crazy outfits, I couldn’t deny that we looked good together. Like an actual couple dressed up for a night out.
We both smiled as the flash went off, and as he started to pocket his phone, I touched his wrist. “Send me that.”
He looked up, not bothering to hide his surprise at my request. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. Only fair we both have it for blackmail.”
He grinned, shook his head, and sent the photo. When I felt the vibration in my pocket, I held out my hand.
“Ready to do some Running Man?”
“Youare gonna do the Running Man?”
“After a couple of drinks, I think I could be enticed.” I didn’t add that he would need to be the one doing the enticing.
“Really…” Sawyer put his hand in mine, and I felt an immediate warmth shoot up my arm at the connection. We started back toward the ballroom, and he added, “Any way to entice you to do the Worm?”