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Sawyer
“The police told my dad she was driving home from my elementary school when she veered off the road.” Cole’s agonized voice is barely above a whisper. “When they went through her purse, they found a copy of the release form she’d filled out, along with a receipt for the check she wrote so I could join peewee football.” He closes his eyes. “She wouldn’t have been there that day if it wasn’t for me.”
Oh, God. My rapidly sinking heart folds in on itself.
Without thinking, I put my arms around him, hugging him as tight as I possibly can. “I’m so sorry.”
My chest physically aches for the little boy who believed his mom’s death was his fault, and the man standing before me who refuses to think any different.
He stiffens. “I don’t want your pity.” Before I can blink, he backs me into the wall. “What I want is your help.” His fingers grip my jaw. “I need you, Sawyer.”
He isn’t playing fair. He can’t open up to me like he did and then demand I help him.
Isn’t that what you asked him to do? my mind prompts.
Dammit. I hate when my conscience gets involved.
It would be wrong of me to turn my back on him, but I also want time to mull this over so I can make an informed decision.
“I’ll think about it.”
It’s the only answer that feels right.
He’s silent for the better part of a minute before he sighs. “Okay.”
It’s only then I remember my arms are still wrapped around him and his body is pressed against mine.
Neither of us makes a move to amend our position.
My vision has adjusted to the darkness enough I can make out the turmoil in his eyes, the bow of his full lips, and the sharp lines of his jaw.
He’s so beautiful…so tortured.
Before I can stop myself, I trace his cheekbone with my thumb.
“You were just a kid,” I tell him. “It wasn’t your fa—”
“Do you ever think about that night?” he interjects.
The sudden change of subject is almost enough to give me whiplash. “What night?”
“The night we hooked up.”
Oh, that night.
“Not really,” I lie.
“I do,” he states matter-of-factly.
“You told me you didn’t remember?”
“I don’t.” An impish smile curves his mouth as he leans in. “Why don’t you remind me?”
Nerves bunch in my belly. “Remind you?”
“Tell me what happened between us.” His lips drift over the shell of my ear. “Don’t leave out any details.”
Sweet baby Jesus in a manger. He can’t be serious. “I—why?”
“The last thing I remember is wanting to kiss you.” His mouth moves to the crook of my neck and he plants a soft kiss there. “Did I?”
I swallow hard. “Yes.”
His hand finds my waist. “With tongue?”
My eyes flutter closed and I nod.
“Was it sloppy and frantic…or soft and gentle?”
My cheeks heat as the memory floats through my mind. “I—um. It was kind of both.”
“How so?”
“At first it was gentle,” I explain. “And then…I don’t know, it was almost like you…”
“Couldn’t get enough?” He presses his lips against my throat. “Sounds about right.” The hand on my waist travels upward, just past my ribcage. “Then what happened?”
Part of me wants to put an end to this whole charade, but the other part wants to rub his drunken amnesia in.
Make it sting a little.
“We kept kissing…and then your mouth went lower.”
I have his full attention now. “How low?”
A rush of heat engulfs my cheeks. “My neck.” Forcing myself to look at him, I murmur, “At first.”
The bulge in his swim trunks is impossible to ignore as his eyes dip to my breasts. “Did I touch them?”
My chest heaves, drawing even more attention to the subjects in question. “Yes.”
Gravel thickens his voice. “With my mouth?”
I draw in a sharp breath. “Uh-huh.”
A small gasp leaves me when the pad of his thumb brushes one of my nipples, making them both pebble even more. “Did I suck them?”
Ribbons of heat unfurl inside me. “Y—”
The sound of the door opening startles us both.
Half of me wants to yell at Cole for not locking it, and the other half is grateful for the save because I’ve spent the last couple of months wishing I could magically undo his kiss and forget his touch…yet here I am letting him turn me into a pile of goo all over again.
“There you are. I’ve been looking all over for you.”
Cole has a murderous look in his eyes as he turns to the culprit responsible for interrupting us.
Fortunately, it’s Oakley. If it was anyone else, I’m positive they wouldn’t escape unscathed.
Cole puts a little distance between us. “What the fuck do you want?”
“There’s a situation—” Oak starts to say before he’s interrupted.
“Wow.” It’s only then I notice the fake nurse standing beside him. Morgan doesn’t even try to hide the look of disgust on her face. “I can’t wait to tell Casey about this.”
My stomach twists. More drama with Casey is the last thing I want.
My fight or flight response kicks in and I wiggle out of the changing room.
“I have to go,” I say in a rush before I sprint toward the house.
Cole calls my name, but I keep trekking.
It’s only then I remember Bianca. No matter what my issues with Cole are, I’m not the type to ditch someone I came to a party with.
When I reach the living room, I notice a crowd of boys circling around two people gyrating on the dancefloor.
Shock roots me to the spot when I see Bianca and Hayley making out as their bodies sway to the music.
“Dude, that’s so fucking hot,” one of them shouts.
“Hell yeah it is,” someone agrees.
“Please tell me someone’s recording this. I need new material for the spank bank.”
And that’s my cue to intervene.
I push through the small crowd. “No one is recording anything.”
“Leave it to the fat girl to be a hater and ruin it,” one of them heckles as I pry them apart.
Douchebag.
“Let’s go,” I tell Bianca. “You’ve had more than enough to drink for one night.”
“I’m not drunk,” she states with an attitude. “But thanks for your concern.”
Well, this is awkward.
If Bianca likes girls, that’s one thing, I just hope she’s not kissing girls to get a reaction out of stupid boys.
Or to make a certain boy jealous.
Then again, it’s really none of my business.
“I’m leaving. Do you want a ride?”
She shakes her head. “Nah. I’ll get one from Cole.” She looks at Hayley. “Want to take this upstairs?”
Yup, and that’s my cue to leave.