Chapter 25 #2
‘Sawyer.’ I laugh and grab his face, letting my thumbs stroke along his jaw, in the hopes to stop him from babbling.
I trace the scar that now lightly mars his cheekbone.
‘I trust you. And we both know that trust doesn’t come easily to either of us.
But honestly, I’ve never felt safer or happier than I do right now, with you.
I want to do this. As long as you do too. ’
When I’ve lived a life swarmed with uncertainty—of what lies in my future, of when the next strike will come, of where I even belong—it’s hard to be sure of your decisions.
Just because I’m a straight A student, just because I made sure the house was as tidy as possible, just because Father’s in a good mood, doesn’t guarantee anything.
But with Sawyer? Certainty seems effortless.
Maybe it’s the way he has no filter, always saying things as it is, or maybe it’s because he’s the only person who truly understands what my life has been like.
Or maybe it’s because he’s looking at me like I’ve hung the moon right now.
I know in my gut that this is right for me.
That he’ll take care of me.
Sawyer’s swallow is audible, his Adam’s apple bobbing, giving me the sudden urge to press my lips against his neck. What would his feel against mine?
‘Yes—fuck—sorry—yes, of course I want to, Blue.’
I bite my lip to stop my chuckle from escaping, because somehow I’ve got the most confident, cockiest guy in school flustered.
But that also reminds me—the most popular guy too, who’s been with his fair share of girls already based on the countless bits of gossip I’ve heard, while I just had my first kiss at eighteen …
My gaze dips between us as I say, ‘You’ll have to, um, tell me what to do. I’ve obviously never done anything before, so … just tell me what to do, yeah?’
He releases a hand from my waist to run it through his already messy hair, ‘Right … I … It’s just that …’
‘Sawyer?’
He sighs. ‘I’ve never done it, either.’
My lips pop open. ‘Sorry, I just assumed because of things I’d heard.’
Sawyer chuckles, shrugging. ‘Yeah—I mean, I’ve done everything else, just not that.’ He pauses, dragging his teeth over his lower lip. ‘I don’t have to take all my clothes off for other stuff.’
‘What do you mean?’
Hanging his head between us for a beat, Sawyer groans.
He takes a deep breath before dragging his gaze back up, his chestnut eyes swimming with torment.
‘I … I don’t want people to see my scars and bruises.
I’m used to quickly getting changed in the locker room without people seeing too many of them, but sex?
There’s nowhere to hide with that. It’s not like anyone would expect me to be uncomfortable with getting naked.
’ He lets out a breathy laugh, a wobbly smile appearing.
‘Every mark just reminds me that I didn’t fight hard enough—that I’m weak.
They remind me of why my mom isn’t around anymore.
They make me feel like … like I’m hard to love. ’
‘Sawyer.’ The sting of tears fills my eyes.
I cup his jaw again, running my other hand along his shoulder.
There’s something so fulfilling about being able to give him loving touches, knowing how few of them he experiences.
Knowing I can give love without fearing what reaction I’ll get back.
‘Your scars don’t make you weak—if anything, they just show how many times you’ve stood up to fear and survived.
They remind me that no matter how hard you’ve been knocked down, you still have one of the purest souls I’ve ever met. ’
One corner of his mouth hooks up but quickly drops again when my fingers land on his bolo tie.
‘May I?’ I ask, silently awaiting his nod before unfastening it.
Wide and shiny eyes watch as my fingers then gently unbutton his shirt.
‘I can’t make your scars disappear, just like I can’t make mine either.
But maybe … maybe I can show you how easy you are to love.
’ The last word comes out shaky as I finish opening his shirt and push it off his shoulders, letting it pool around his sculpted arms.
My gaze roams his bare chest, hopping from each scar that mars his tan skin—across his collar bone, no doubt from a breakage, discolouration along his ribs, and small white marks peppering his body.
Even a fresh bruise spreads across one of his biceps, too easily recognisable as where his father must have grabbed him in the last day or so, yet he’s not even shown the smallest of winces when I’ve touched him.
My chest cracks at the sight, at the pain he carries with him every day, but still finds the strength to show up for me.
Sawyer’s eyes are locked on me, brows dropped, giving away the fear he feels at exposing himself like this.
I run a finger across the scar on his collarbone, then lower my head to press my lips to the marked skin.
His chest tightens, a small gasp shuddering from his lips, but his grip on my waist remains strong, safe.
Fingers pulse against me as I move my lips to the next scar, continuing until I’ve kissed every mark on his torso, giving love to every bit of fear that still riddles his body.
I make sure my last kiss on his bruised bicep is as gentle as possible.
‘Blue,’ Sawyer whispers just as my lips leave his skin. He directs my chin back up with a finger, bringing my gaze in line with his, where silver rims his eyes, glowing in the moonlight. ‘Thank you. Seriously.’
I manage a soft smile back.
‘Let me take care of you now.’
Sawyer shifts, wrapping his arms around me so he can lay me down—handling me so gently, anyone would think I was a delicate flower whose petals he was trying not to rip.
My back meets the cold of the truck bed, but all I can focus on is the heat of his body settling between my legs, the hot press of his lips against my neck, the searing touch he trails up my thigh and hip as he carefully lifts my dress.
‘This okay, Blue?’ he asks.
I nod, grinning. ‘Yes. I want this. I want you.’
Then his lips are on mine, our hands desperately removing the clothing that keeps us apart.
I’ve never felt safer than being bare in his arms, revelling in the way he admires my body with wonder-filled eyes.
His fingers dive between my thighs, exploring in a way that has me gasping, each sound he elicits from me making that cocky grin of his flash brighter.
He takes his time with me, as if he’s trying to learn my body off by heart, committing all my sounds and reactions to memory.
And then he’s wrapping me up in his arms.
He holds me through the pain, stroking my hair and whispering sweet words in my ear, until his movements melt into pleasure, pulling me into depths of euphoria I can’t fathom ever belonging anywhere but dreams. Every last drop of fear or worry in my body dissipates, replaced with pure love and joy as our bodies move together.
I don’t know what’s going to happen after tonight, when I have to go back to my normal, scary life. But one thing I do know is that after tonight, Sawyer Nash will be branded on my soul forever.