CHAPTER SEVENTEEN FALLON #4
“He told you that? Right after you broke up with your boyfriend? What a chump. At least give her a second to breathe from the breakup, Julia. Jesus.”
I wince. “He called himself that last night—a chump.”
“And that’s supposed to make it better?” she asks with a “get real” expression.
“No, but he did say he felt really bad about his confession and said it was terrible timing, but it just kind of came out.”
“What the hell did you say to him?”
“Nothing. I just... I held his hand. Like fingers entwined, thumbs rubbing on backs of knuckles. Real hand-holding. And now that I have to see him this morning, I’m freaking out.
What do I say? Do I mention the hand-holding?
Do I mention how I liked when he twirled my hair with his finger?
Because he did that—he picked up a single strand and just twirled.
It took everything in me not to beat my leg on the floor like a dog.
Or... do I tell him how I think he has a really nice, proportionate chest-to-muscle ratio.
He was topless... wait, are men topless?
Or do we say shirtless? Either way, there were no clothes on his body.
Well, besides his shorts. I didn’t see anything down south, so don’t worry about that.
But I mean...” I let out a pent-up breath.
“Jaz, do I tell him how I have feelings for him too? Do I—”
“Wait. You have feelings for him too? Like legit feelings?”
I grip my cheeks. “I know, it’s crazy. This is so crazy.
I just broke up with Peter, but Peter and I have been drifting apart since before Sawyer even came along, and then when I started talking to Sawyer, I think I saw the difference between the two.
Peter was holding on to the old me, but Sawyer embraces the new me.
And I mean, the way he acts with Sully. How patient he is.
It guts me. It makes me want to throw myself at him.
” Jaz doesn’t say anything. She just stands there beneath the dim closet light, stoically, judging me with her piercing eyes, arms folded.
“What? Say something. I didn’t mean for this to happen—it just kind of did, and now that it has, I feel like a train wreck.
” I motion to the door, anxiety racketing through me.
“I have to go out there, act normal, as if I didn’t have a thousand butterflies shoot off in my stomach when he hugged me good night. God, Jaz, what is happening?”
She goes back to examining her nails. “Exactly what I assumed was going to happen when you realized who Julia was.”
“What do you mean?”
“I saw it, that first night, the way you’d glance over at him. Even with my crooked-nose comments, you were interested.”
“His nose is not that crooked, just a little, and it gives him character. He’s quite handsome.” I can’t help but smile.
“And that right there”—Jaz points at my mouth—“is what I’m talking about.
You’ve liked this guy from the moment he strolled into this town, even if you want to deny it.
I’m just surprised you actually gave in, given how stubborn you are.
And then of course there was the whole love triangle thing with Peter—and frankly it’s upsetting that you can have two men fall for you and I can’t even get Ralph, Roy’s nephew, to walk into the bar. ”
“Because when he first met you, blood was dripping down the side of your face because you got so angry with the Chicago Rebels losing the first game in the World Series that you slammed your head into the wall. That would terrify even the strongest of men.”
“Maddox Paige pitched an impeccable game, only for the relievers to blow it—that’s worthy of a head slam. And you know what? Why should I settle for someone who doesn’t appreciate my passions and my reactions when things don’t go my way?”
“You shouldn’t. That’s why Ralph isn’t right for you.”
“Exactly.” She tilts her chin up just a bit higher.
“And maybe Julia’s stupid brother will ask me out on a date one day, instead of just sending me ridiculous memes that make me laugh but mean absolutely nothing.
” She shakes her head and arms, almost to shake it all off.
“But that’s beside the point. You and Julia were bound to happen, whether you want to believe it or not.
Now you just have to figure out if you’re going to make something of it. ”
“That’s just it, Jaz. I don’t know what to do. I’m freaking out.”
“I can tell, since we’re currently in a coat closet, shout-whispering to each other.”
“Just give me some advice, anything.”
“Call him Julia; he seems to respond well to it.”
“Jaz, that’s not helping.”
She sighs and then reaches out and grips my shoulders. “Are you listening to me? Because I’m only going to say this once—I’m not in the business of repeating myself, especially not over romantic involvements.”
I blink a few times. “I’m listening.”
“Good. Now, you are going to go out there, you are going to act like everything is normal, and when he says ‘good morning’—because you know he will—you’re going to tell him ‘good morning’ and then.
.. go on with your day. Nothing to freak out about.
The man liked you before last night; he liked you.
.. for you. So, no need to overthink this. Just be you.”
“But I don’t know how to be me anymore,” I say, my mind going cloudy with panic. “I’ve changed. I’ve morphed. I’m a woman—”
Smack.
Pain ricochets over my cheek as I stumble backward into the closet wall, blinking rapidly at a very pleased Jaz.
I lift my hand to my offended cheek—hot from the slap of Jaz’s hand.
I wouldn’t be surprised if there was a handprint, a permanent mark.
This very well could be her way of branding, and yet. ..
“Th-thank you,” I say, straightening up, my head clearing. “I needed that.”
“I know. That’s why I did it. Now get it together. We have renovations to do.”
With that, she exits the closet and heads outside toward the cabins, though not before picking up her box of pastries and tucking them under her arm.
I step out of the closet and continue to rub my cheek until the sting of her hand is no longer there. I let out a deep breath. Just be myself?
Does that mean even though I’m feeling really awkward, really uncomfortable, that it’s okay to let that show? That I don’t have to be perfect the next time I see him?
Yeah, I guess that’s exactly what it means.
With Jaz’s advice propelling me forward, I exit the residence and walk the pathway to the cabins, the cement wet from the early-morning sprinklers.
The rising sun will eat up the damp sidewalk in no time, though.
There’s only one cabin with its door open, which means Jaz has to be in there with him.
All I can hope is that she’s not talking about what happened last night.
I hurry along the path and take a deep breath as I turn the corner into the cabin, ready to come upon Jaz saying something embarrassing—but stumble to a stop. She’s nowhere to be found, and Sawyer is the only one in sight.
“Oh, sorry. I thought Jaz was in here,” I say.
Sawyer looks up from where he’s patching the hole in the wall we found yesterday, and when his eyes connect with mine, a flash of relief crosses them.
Was he afraid I wasn’t going to show up today?
Ignore all the renovations and escape to the Harry Balls Trail, hiding out until it’s all over and done with?
Although appealing, I’d never do that.
“I haven’t seen her come by yet.” He sets his spackling tool—whatever it’s called—on the new bucket of spackle and stands.
“I, uh, I didn’t think Tank opened this early,” I say, making a sad attempt at conversation.
“He made an exception for me,” Sawyer says, stuffing his hand in his paint-splattered khaki shorts.
He’s wearing his original Canoodle shirt that he bought when he first arrived and a plain red baseball cap that he has twisted to face backward, something I know he’ll adjust when Sully shows up. “How did you sleep?”
“Okay, I guess,” I say, and because I’m a fool and can’t seem to act normal around a man when I realize I have feelings for him, I add, “I woke up in the middle of the night because I had to pee. Did you hear me?”
He chuckles and shakes his head. “No, you must be a stealth pee-er.”
“I didn’t flush. Well, I mean, I flushed this morning, but you know, if it’s yellow, let it mellow, so I let it mellow because saving water is nice, and I also didn’t want to wake you up.
Sometimes if I go to the bathroom in the middle of the night, I’ll wake up Sully, and getting him to go back to sleep is really hard, so I tried to be as quiet as possible. ”
“You were quiet.” He smirks. The way his lips curl up like that, in a sexy, amused expression, makes me want to maul him with my mouth, but also melt into a slow, painful, liquid death.
“Good, guess a year of practice will do that to you.” I glance away because God, what is wrong with me? I’m talking to him about peeing!
“Never know when the little things will come in handy, huh?”
“I guess not.” I look up at him, and silence falls between us.
Him, smiling.
Me, nervously twitching.
And I don’t know how long we stand there, how long we stare at each other as he waits for me to say something and I try to slowly morph into the wall, but it’s too long.
And I can’t take it.
So, I finally break the silence. “This is awkward. I don’t know how to be around you.”
Sawyer’s playful smile turns endearing as he closes the space between us. When he’s inches away, he reaches out and takes my hand in his, lacing our fingers together. Our palms collide, and I nearly moan from the innocent yet addicting feel of his hand in mine.
“Do you regret anything from last night?” he asks, his voice low as his thumb strokes over the back of my hand, just like it was last night.
Do I regret anything that happened last night?
Honestly...