I freeze though when he unexpectedly brings my hands to his lips and blows on them—his hot breath tingling over my skin. I’ve never tensed my body so much to suppress the shivers that instantly caress me. To ignore the familiarity his touch sparks in my heart.
He glances up then, while my fingers are barely millimetres from his lips. The flash of a reminder of what his lips once felt like on my skin is completely unwelcome, and even though it’s a cold October morning I’m hotter than ever.
‘There, much better.’ He clears his throat and guides my hands back to his leg. He leans back on his elbows, eyeing me up as I hesitate. ‘’S’okay, Blue. You know me—bit of pain is nothing.’
I push then, making his leg hinge at the knee and then bring it forward again when I feel some resistance. I repeat the motion slowly, keeping my eyes locked on his leg even though I can feel the weight of Sawyer’s stare on me. His leg doesn’t go back as far as it should—his flexibility lower than I expected.
‘You’re real tight,’ I say, adding more pressure to his leg this time to try to get it to stretch back further. Sawyer presses a fist to his mouth, the corners of his sudden grin peeking out.
‘What?’ I ask, but he shakes his head, biting down on his lip. Am I hurting him? Not that I think he’d say if I was … I used to be able to recognise when he was masking his pain but maybe it’s been too long and I’ve lost that privilege of truly understanding him. ‘Is it too hard? Or do you want it harder?’
‘Blue, you gotta stop.’ His laugh slips out then, and the smoky sound skitters across my skin, goosebumps breaking out even under all my layers. ‘Don’t you hear yourself?’
I think back over what I said and—‘Oh.’
Heat blooms in my cheeks again, Sawyer continuing to chuckle as he sits up. His laughter induces an almost nervous titter to spill from me, and then we’re both there on the deck giggling like a couple of school kids.
Sawyer’s chestnut eyes soften, flicking in a pattern of four around my face—each of my eyes, then my two cheeks. The emerging sun shares more light now, its golden rays catching along the edges of his sharp jaw and cheekbones, almost enticing me to run a finger over them. See if they’re just as strong as they used to be. That half-smile of his is back too, moustache tipping up and inducing a fluttering in my stomach.
And then he has to go and say, ‘Man, I always did like making you blush.’
Instantly, the fluttering intensifies, invigorated by the warm embrace of his deep voice and the memories sparkling in his eyes.
But that’s why I have to stand, why I have to remove myself from this situation. Because my body seems to have the ability to time travel—but I’m not the eighteen year old that once saw him as my saviour. I’m a twenty-seven-year-old mom who can’t go following butterflies when they can easily fly off.
‘I … I should go. I’ll need to get Noah up soon.’
Sawyer starts to lift himself up after me, his brow furrowing. ‘I can help, if you wanna finish your stretches.’
My muscles tense and I hold out my hands, backing awayto the door. ‘It’s fine, he’s not your kid, Sawyer. You don’t need to.’
He halts, lips forming a thin line as his jaw tightens and I wince at the harshness of my words. Because, no, he’s not Noah’s father. I made damn sure of that when I ran away nine years ago, and now I’m stuck suffering with forcing myself to remember why.
Sawyer just grits out. ‘Right.’
Maybe it’s in my head, or maybe it’s the clouds passing over the rising sun, but the world becomes a little dimmer then. That light that was rekindling between us put out as quickly as it sparked.
12
Sawyer (Flashback)
December, Senior Year
‘Take a look at that, Blue!’ I throw down my most recent math test on the table and point to the large red circle with aB-inside it marking the page.Fuck yeah.
Mrs Quinn, the librarian, tuts loudly from the other side of the library, and I lean back to throw her an apologetic wave. She just shakes her head at me with exasperation, but I don’t miss the smile breaking out at my own charming grin—I know my magical powers, and that middle-aged woman is not immune to them.
Not a second later, I’m clambering into my seat opposite Honey, anticipation of her praise buzzing under my skin so much I can’t stop my legs from bobbing. Honey filters her delicate fingers under the paper, scanning the page. Sunshine might as well be breaking out as her smile finally does, and it floods my bloodstream with dopamine.
She wets her plump bottom lip, leaving it shiny and annoyingly distracting, until she says, ‘Sawyer, this is amazing. Well done.’
‘Hell yeah, it’s amazing, Blue,’ I whisper-shout and throw my hands in the air, leaning back in my seat as I balance on the two back legs, letting my grin fully play out. Honey’s tutoring has helped me stay afloat with my grades enough to keep playing football. But this? I’ve never got a B in my life. I feel like the king of the world.
She dips her head as her smile overpowers her freckled cheeks, but I wish she’d let it shine for me. Honey reads through the test again. ‘If we focus on the questions you got wrong, we could definitely get this up to a B plus before the holidays—’
‘Woah, Blue, there’s no way I’m concentrating after this.’ My chair slams back down. ‘As much as I love our tutoring sessions, the only thing I’m capable of right now is celebrating.’
‘Celebrating?’ She looks downright disgusted at the idea—nose all crinkled, a bolt of unease flashing through her eyes.