"Don't."
"I haven't said anything."
"You've been saying it for the last hour without saying it."
He took a pull of his beer. "She's good with the kids."
"Yeah."
"Haven likes her."
"Everybody likes her."
"Dolly likes her." He said it like it meant something. "Dolly doesn't like anybody."
I looked at the horizon.
"Forrest."
"I know," I said.
"Do you?"
"Sawyer."
He set his beer down on the step beside him and turned to look at me, giving me the look only a big brother could give you—like he absolutely knew better, and I knew he knew better, and I already should have known that.
“Sophie would want you to move on,” he said.
“Jesus.” I blew out a long breath, shaking my head. “Jesus fucking Christ…”
“Seriously, Forrest.”
“You don’t just move on,” I said. “She stays. If I invite someone else in…Sophie’s gonna be there. No moving on.”
“Okay,” he said. “A little kinky but?—”
I glared at him.
Sawyer laughed. “Sophie would’ve laughed at that, and you know it,” he said. “She was funnier than you.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“Point still stands.”
“She’s twenty years old, Sawyer.”
Sawyer nodded slowly. “Yup.”
“She’s never—” I stopped. Looked at my beer. “She’d never had anything, Sawyer. Never had a choice about anything. And I don’t want to be one more man who?—”
I stopped. Couldn’t even think about the details of what had been done to her.
“One more man who what?” Sawyer asked.
“Who takes advantage of her,” I said.
Sawyer snorted. “Sounds more like she was taking advantage ofyou. In a good way.”