Chapter 25
Honey (Flashback)
May, Senior Year
Before climbing out the window, I arranged my pillows under my comforter to give the illusion I was tucked in bed—it felt like a rite of passage, the kind of thing you see in movies.
Sawyer helped me out of the window and down the porch roof, jumping off first so he could catch me.
His strong hands gripping my waist and lowering me to the ground sent a warm, dizzying, and completely foreign sensation rushing up my spine.
I almost didn’t want him to let go, to have him hold me long enough that his touch imprinted into my skin forever.
But then we were running to his truck, hand in hand, and once he promised me he’d only had one drink, he pulled onto the dirt road leading into the main town, never turning the lights on until we were far from my house.
I wasn’t bothered that I was still in my nightgown anymore—I’d never felt so weightless in my life.
With the Brooks & Dunn CD stuck in Sawyer’s radio blasting on full volume through the speakers he’d wired up to his truck, while the windows were down, midnight summer air whipping at my hair.
For once in my life, I felt free.
Eventually, we pull onto his property and follow a winding dirt road to an empty field. With the lights still on, Sawyer parks the truck, and jumps out, rounding the hood so he can open my door for me.
‘Miss Hart,’ he jokes, holding out his hand.
‘Mr Stetson.’ I slip my fingers into his palm, letting him help me out, and he grins at the use of his character name, smile shining under the stars.
As soon as my slipper clad feet hit the dirt ground, Sawyer spins me around, and I can’t help but squeal.
The warmth of his responding chuckle roots itself deep in my core.
He pulls me to him, my back flush against his solid chest, allowing him to dip his head, hot breath against my ear as he whispers, ‘Ready to dance your ass off, Blue?’
I don’t think my body has cooled down since his eyes raked over me earlier, but right now, with the way his body looms over me, I’m positively on fire.
Sawyer walks us to the back of the truck bed.
There’s blankets folded up in the corner, a couple flasks of that punch he talked about leant against them.
He pulls down the tailgate, then climbs in with ease, wrapping those strong, capable hands around my waist to lift me up.
They hover there, fingers pulsing, as he just stares into my eyes, and I realise I haven’t moved my hands from his shoulders either, my own grip fitting against the honed muscles there.
We’ve somehow forgone the consent to touch, the idea of Sawyer’s hands on me promising nothing but solace and safety, like a beacon of light amongst the blistering storm that is my life.
It’s a line I never thought I’d find courage to cross, but with the way Sawyer’s gazing at me, awe sparkling in his eyes, trust comes easily.
A slower song begins to play—the lyrics already so beautiful, describing the tumultuous turns of life and the prospect of ever finding love again.
I wish I knew the name of it. I decide in this moment that once I’m out of Willow Ridge, I’m going to let myself indulge—in listening to as many songs as possible, in dancing to them whenever I can, singing more than just songs from church or choir.
Sawyer’s hands slide up to my arms with a featherlight touch that leaves my body tingling, until he reaches my hands and moves them so that they’re clasped behind his neck.
He drops his hands back to my waist, fingers spreading out across my curves, tips sinking into my flesh gently, yet making me feel so stable in his hold.
A promise that I can let go because he’s got me.
Usually, a hand on me would have my eyes painfully wide, anticipating the violence that follows, but tonight, I let my eyes flutter closed and rest my head against his chest as Sawyer begins to sway us.
We rock to the music, love pounding in my heart like thunder, while the moonlight and stars shimmer down on us—the silent keepers of our secrets tonight.
I never want the song to end, but when the CD restarts again, the intro to ‘Play Something Country’ beginning, Sawyer suddenly pulls away, face alight. He hollers out, ‘Oh, this is one of the best ones!’
He grabs my hands, moving my arms back and forth vigorously to the music, and laughter bubbles out of me.
The song’s heavy beat reverberates in my bones while Sawyer belts out the words.
He has us jumping, nodding our heads, and spinning about.
It’s liberating, letting my body move however feels right.
If this is the kind of wild and immoral things my father tries to keep me from, then I decide I want to be the wildest and most immoral girl ever.
When the guitar solo hits, Sawyer climbs up on top of the truck cab, tears off his suit jacket, and strums an invisible guitar.
The moon is his spotlight, a true star on his stage, where he belongs—to be adored and marvelled at.
He even drops to his knees at one point, and giggles erupt from me, pouring out at a rate I can’t stop.
He jumps back down and hooks his arm through mine.
We skip around in a circle, switching directions and arms not at all to the rhythm of the music but whenever Sawyer randomly decides.
My laughter barrels out—the kind of pure joy I haven’t felt in years.
Not since I was an unassuming kid. It’s unbridled and unconstrained, and it has me feeling brighter than the hundreds of shimmering stars above.
The next thing I know, he twirls me around, my nightgown swishing around me.
He’s relentless and keeps me spinning until I’m begging to stop, my head getting dizzier by the second.
Even though I could just stop myself, I wait for him, because hearing his bright laughter sends me on a high I want to chase forever.
And when he finally lets me go, I’ve lost all balance, and crash straight into him, sending us tumbling back against the truck cab with an oof.
We slip down to the floor of the truck bed, laughter still pouring out.
His forehead rests against my shoulder, his chest bouncing under my palms with each chuckle that rings out.
It’s only when his laugh slowly peters out and his fingers pulse against my waist that I realise I’m straddling him.
My nightgown has hitched up around my thighs, only just giving me a semblance of decency.
Sawyer’s hot, shuddering breaths sear my skin.
Slowly, he lifts his head, bringing his shining eyes into view.
The ones that found me that day in the corridor at the beginning of senior year.
The ones that promised me for the first time in my life that I didn’t have to go through this alone.
They glance to where he grips my waist, widening.
His hands flinch back. ‘I’m sorry. I’ve been touching you a lot without asking—’
‘I want you to,’ I blurt out, just the featherlight touch of his fingertips now hovering at my suddenly cold, empty waist. His warm gaze flicks between my eyes, searching.
A rare moment of bravery surfaces and I filter my fingers through his hair, relishing in the way his lashes flutter from my touch. ‘I … I like it.’
‘I like it too.’ He swallows, eyes dropping to my lips once before snapping back up. ‘I like feeling your body against me, holding you in my arms, getting to keep you safe, even if just for a moment. I like being with you, Blue. A lot.’
All I need is one more of his glances down to my mouth to make the jump.
My lips meet his in an awkward crash. When I hesitate, realising I have no idea what I’m doing, his hold on me tightens, pulling me closer so that our bodies are flush—my breasts pressed hard against his solid chest and our lips sealed together.
A sensation I can only describe as freedom sparkles through my body, lighting me up like crackling fireworks.
I let him lead the way, picking up the rhythm of his lips, and then one of his hands is trailing up to caress my face, gently urging my head back.
It allows him to deepen the kiss, a ferocity blazing in his movements.
My hands wander, feeling out all the parts of his body I’ve wanted to explore for too long—his broad shoulders that carry too many burdens, his solid chest that provides me with something to fall against when life gets too much, his strong arms that anchor me in this explosion of passion.
And I want nothing more than to dive headfirst into the depths of that said passion.
Suddenly, Sawyer’s tongue faintly traces the seam of my lips, and I open my mouth for him.
Tentatively, his tongue slides against mine, and heat I’ve never felt before rushes through me.
So much that my body jolts, and his smile grows in response.
He softly coaxes me into deepening our kiss, until our tongues are dancing together, warmth puddling in my core.
My hips roll forward almost instinctively, my body clearly knowing what it wants before I do, and that’s when I feel something hard beneath me.
A zing of pleasure runs through me at the momentary friction, and part of me wants to chase it for more.
To indulge.
If I only ever have this night of freedom, then I want to make it count.
‘Sawyer.’ I break our kiss to rest my forehead against his. My lips still barely a hairsbreadth from his—hot, trembling breaths mingling between us. ‘I … I want to have sex with you.’
His head rears back, lips all swollen and red. I want to run my fingers over them. ‘Blue, you—you don’t have to. I wasn’t expecting that from tonight. I wasn’t even expecting to kiss. Not that I haven’t wanted to kiss you for the past year but—’