Oh, give me a break.
Actually—no, this is a good reminder of why nothing caneverhappen between Sawyer and me. I’m never going to be arrested, never going to be having sex with strangers in random bars, never going to be the wild and care-free woman he needs. I’m the mom who likes to curl up on the couch with a book or with my son while we watch some cheesy film, who likes to spend a cold autumn day playing catch outside with Noah and the man I—
‘Honey?’ Sawyer’s thigh presses into mine again. Harder. ‘Your go.’
My eyes catch his, and I see it then—the desperation behind all that bravado, the torment behind his wickedness. The possessiveness for me—that this is merely all a game to him to win me back. And it wouldn’t be hard, not when staring into his chestnut eyes for more than a second, knowing they must see the same memories I do every time we lock gazes, has my body inching closer by its own volition.
I hate that I’m so drawn to him. That being around him usually feels effortless and freeing when we’re at home. Yet, I can’t shake the need to run away. To push him back because I know the heartbreak, thepain, that comes from loving him. I got burned for thinking we could ever be right for each other before.
So, I square my shoulders, fighting back against the gentle way he touches me, and I try one more time for good to push him away. ‘Never have I ever been in love.’
The muscle feathering in his jaw is the only evidence that I’ve hurt him, and I hate that it has to end with me doing this again. Forcing him back. Lying about how I truly feel.
It’s why I suddenly stand, unable to look at him any longer and announce, ‘Excuse me, I need to use the restroom.’
I hold my chin high and wait for Sawyer to slide out of the booth, trying to ignore the weight of both Tara and Parker’s stares on me. Even after I climb out, my hands shaking with too much emotion, I don’t look back, just flee through the crowd, making a beeline for the restrooms.
As soon as I’m out of the throng of people busying about on a Friday night and down the corridor where the restrooms sit, I lean back against one of the walls, letting out the sigh I’d been holding in just in case it came out as a sob. Trying to will up the courage to make it through the rest of this weekend. So much that I don’t hear his footsteps following me.
‘Blue? What’s wrong?’ Gone is his confidence from earlier, voice no longer laced with suggestive cadences and bold tones, as he comes around the corner.
‘I’m fine,’ I say, voice clipped, hoping it’ll deter him.
He stalks closer, feet inches from mine. ‘Tell me.’
My laugh of disbelief just flies out. I worry my lip, knowing I can’t. Because how do I tell him that staying with him the last month has been one of the happiest times in my life, yet I’m afraid to stay any longer? That I can’t go to sleep without imagining his rough palms running over my body, yet I’m terrified of him touching me again? Of how easily I can feel myself falling for him again?
‘My apartment’s ready,’ is the only thing I can find to say. The only thing that keeps up the image I’ve been trying to build. ‘I’ll pack my things this weekend while you and Noah are gone. Give you back your freedom.’
His brows cave in, anger striking his eyes. A tense jaw is now met with hardening eyes—ones that I feel skewering right through to my soul. Reading all the truths I refuse toreveal to him. Slowly, he brings his hands to either side of the wall beside my head on a ragged exhale.
I should tell him not to cage me in like this, but I can’t deny the way my body craves his closeness, buzzing the nearer he gets. My lips aching as his are merely a few inches above while the corridor darkens around us, all my senses drawn tohim.
Maybe I need him to kiss me with the hopes I’ll feel nothing and then this can all end. No more hanging on to the thread of second chances just because we once had a spark that blazed so bright it almost burned our worlds down. My neck cranes up, wondering, and I swear he moves closer—
But then I see a flash of the broken boy I once knew when his brows cave in and his voice comes out on a rough whisper, ‘You told me it couldn’t mean anything, Blue.’
My chest heaves, and I wish I was brave enough not to answer shakily with, ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
Touch featherlight, Sawyer’s fingers drop from the wall to find my jaw, cradling my cheek, and a gasp escapes me, my breath stolen thereafter. His thumb rubs across the top of my cheekbones, branding my skin with the heat that springs up. Chestnut eyes soften as they regard me, flicking between mine. ‘Yeah, you do. Your eyes give you away, Blue. Always have.’
A clearing of a throat down the corridor has us breaking away, and just like that the noise and the light of our surroundings floods back in, suddenly overwhelming. I need to get out of here.
It’s Wolfman who appears and watches us with the girl hewas flirting with clinging to his arm. He cracks an apologetic smile at me before he cuts his focus to Sawyer. ‘Uh, Tara’s asking after you.’
‘You should go,’ I say to Sawyer, keeping my eyes locked on the floor, not wanting to reveal anymore.
Each scuff of his boots away from me has my heart tearing further, and it shatters just as I look up, his eyes entwining with mine where he’s hesitated and checked back over his shoulder to admit, ‘Just so you know, Blue. I ain’t ever felt freedom like I do with you.’
20
Honey
It takes me a few restless hours after getting back to the ranch from the bar to finally drift off to sleep, my mind still raring from the whole evening—from the audacity of Sawyer and the things he said. I think I’m just falling into a light slumber when the loudest bang practically shakes the whole house, forcing me to shoot up in bed.
I clutch the sheets, listening intently to the muffled voice coming from outside. Aman’svoice.
Another crash that definitely sounds like it was at the front door has me jumping to my feet, grabbing the hardest thing I can find nearby, which tragically happens only to be a rather thick hardback book, and I quietly creep out my bedroom.