‘I’ve got him from here,’ I say.
‘You sure?’
‘Yes. The bed’s just there.’ I look up at Sawyer. ‘And you’re gonna be a good boy for me, aren’t you, Sawyer?’
Sawyer lifts his arm from around Wolfman to salute me.
‘Alright. I’ll see myself out.’ Wolfman pats Sawyer on the shoulder. ‘Have a wonderful headache tomorrow morning, bud.’
He waves at me and then heads off down the hallway.
‘Love you!’ Sawyer shouts after him, the words garbled.
‘Love you too, Nash!’ Wolfman’s voice echoes back, making Sawyer smile, before the click of the front door shutting sounds.
And then it’s just the two of us.
My hands clutch onto Sawyer’s chiselled body while he gazes down at me through heavy-lidded eyes, resting slightly against the door frame.
‘Okay. Bedtime.’ Slowly, I manage to shuffle Sawyer over to the bed, easing him down so he’s sat on the edge. The whole time he just watches me with that child-like smile on his face.
Once I’m certain he’s not going to fall forward, I step back and take in his dirty clothes. My mothering instincts kick in, knowing he shouldn’t go to bed like that.
‘We should probably change your clothes. Get you dressed for bed. I’ll find you something.’ I move towards his chest of drawers, rummaging through them for some pyjamas. I throw over my shoulder as my search becomes futile, especially in the dark, ‘Where do you keep your pyjamas?’
He doesn’t answer me, and I half expect him to be asleep when I turn around to check—
Except I’m met with a half-naked Sawyer facing away from me, who has just finished removing his dirty T-shirt, and drops it to the floor. Silvery moonlight shines through the window, shimmering against the smooth planes of his back and shoulders, while also highlighting all the solid, hard edges of his muscles. They stretch and flex as he moves his hands to his belt and starts unbuckling it, ripping it out of the belt loops of his Wranglers with one quick, and unexpectedly mouth-watering movement.
‘Sawyer!’ I squeak as he drops his jeans to the floor,struggling to remove his boot and pull the jeans off. He’s left in nothing but a pair of tight black boxer briefs that torturously emphasise how his ass is just as toned as the rest of his body. ‘Wh-what are you doing?’
My gaze volleys around the room as I force myself to look away but also can’t help myself from glancing back at him—like my eyes are magnetised to his body. His really,reallychiselled, broad body. Jeez—I didn’t realise it was possible for thighs to be so thick and toned. Even his bad leg is still faring well. But I suppose he needs a lot of strength in them to keep him on the back of those bulls.
Sawyer turns then, and furrows his brow, eyelids heavy as he still fights to barely keep his eyes open. ‘You told me to get dressed for bed.’
‘That’sundressed.’
‘But this is what I wear to bed.’ He says it with such conviction, gesturing to his almost-naked body.
Maybe if he could just put a T-shirt on or something to save me right now—
But then I see it.
The lips tattoo on his collarbone.
And my mouth dries out.
I take a long blink just to see if the tiredness and darn hilarity of this night has caused me to start seeing things, but when I open my eyes again, it’s still there, the bright-red colour standing out under the moonlight that paints him. Covering up the scar that once laid there. Just like the ones he was too ashamed to show anyone. Until that night in the back of his truck bed where he bared all his soul to me. Where he let me prove to him that no matter how broken he was, I’d easily find a way to love him.
Where I kissed every one of his scars, starting with that one.
A memory I’ve tried to forget.
A memory he’s branded onto his body.
‘What’s wrong, Blue?’ Sawyer asks, limping towards me. It only gives me a better view of the tattoo.
I don’t know how long I’ve been staring when Sawyer’s fingers lift my chin up, forcing my eyes to lock with his. He looks downright wrecked at the thought I could be upset, and it breaks my heart.