Thirteen
Sawyer
“Please come in, it's absolutely pouring out!”
I shout over to Gwen and Xander in their delivery van.
It’s a deep red colour with gold writing on the side, ‘The Sweet Bakery’. It's as if they really lucked out with having Sweet as their last name.
I prop open the back door with a chipped brick I found in the alley as the siblings run in trays and trays of baked goods. The scent of pastries and sugar start to taunt me as Xander carries in the last tray.
“That's all of it, Sawyer. I'll quickly run out and grab the paperwork for you.”
Alexander Sweet. Gwen's older brother and practically mine too, he towers over the both of us, not only in stature but in build, too. He definitely gives Avory a run for his money.
No, not now.
He has the shoulders, arms, and dress sense of someone who should be cutting up logs with an oversized axe in the forest, only to rip them apart with his bare hands, yet delicate and full blonde curls which brush against his forehead and meet the tips of his ears in length.
His deep, chocolate eyes match Gwen’s exactly, and are what you are met with whenever you speak with him, and his voice carries the same depth but with more of a gravely tone.
As much as he tries to avoid conversation and tries his best to hide his smile from all of humanity, he’s always had a soft spot for me, and especially his sister. While seven years older than us both, he’s always slotted in nicely between us and often plays the direct voice of reason.
“So, spill it! Is everything looking bright for you two yet?”
Gwen grabs me by the shoulders and her grin spreads from ear to ear. She is clearly very proud of that joke. Even in all of this downpour, her eyeliner and mascara remain intact.
“Spill what?”
Xander speaks as he appears behind with a handful of invoices for me to organise later. Fun.
Gwen skips in front of me, ready to tell her version of events.
“Sawyer has a big, fat man crush which he isn't doing anything about, even though this guy clearly likes him too! I was just asking if they had gotten any further than gazing at each other over the counter.”
Gwen looks back at me, winking and practically boasting about her perfect eyeliner at this point.
“Interesting. Well, good for you, bud! Do we know this guy?”
Xander practically ignores Gwen as he locks his eyes on me.
I beat Gwen to it before she decides to describe Avory as some sort of Greek god. She wouldn't be entirely wrong.
“His name's Avory, he's in the band Bright Lights which are performing around here.”
“Oh, I saw them the other night at the pub! They did an amazing show, their leading man has this husky yet powerful voice, and the guitarist clearly knows what he's doing! I caught his guitar pick at the end, assuming we're talking about the younger one?”
I roll my eyes and hum in agreement, Gwen laughing slightly into the canned iced coffee she brought with her – I'll pretend I'm not slightly offended.
“Good, the older one is off limits.”
Xander winks as we all laugh at his comment.
While he’s never been quiet about being gay – one of the many reasons why I deal with the deliveries instead of mother – it’s still new for us to hear him talking about anyone in that manner. He has been so invested in work and Gwen this past year that everything else in his life hit pause.
“Sawyer, is your mum still off about everything? Because my offer to speak to her still stands. I'm sure she'd have something to say if our services stopped delivering to Sombre’s.”
Xander is protective of his family, even if it is the adopted member in question. Either way, I can't see blackmail being the answer to getting Tracey Sombre to finally accept her queer son.
“Well, I'm still gay, so that should answer your question.”
Xander ignores his sister's growing anger towards my situation as he strolls past her and comes up to me, pulling me in and wrapping his arms around me. I feel like a freshly planted tree which still needs its supportive plastic railing compared to this solid oak tree of a man. The smell of his damp coat mixes with his citrus, sandalwood aftershave, and it is oddly comforting alongside his voice rumbling through his chest as he speaks.
“While I understand that it's easier said than done, you need to start doing things for you, Sawyer! Our door is always open, no matter what happens, and she can't have this hold on you forever. You are an incredible person, and I cannot fathom why she can't see that your sexuality has little to no significance to her life.”
His arms fall to his sides before grabbing my hand and sliding something slim between our palms. “If he's right for you, then do what you have to do. Don't do what I did last year.”
I remember Xander telling us about a man he was with who he lost, but he never told us why or how. He just always said that he’s to blame and I don't think I could forgive myself if I ever feel that way about Avory.
I need to talk to him; I need to figure out what we are before I throw my heart out there.
I open my palm to find a guitar pick – Avory's. To think that he held this all night long, he entertained an audience with this, my heart races as I follow the red and black marble pattern with my thumb.
The room falls quiet after Xander's words, the only noise coming from the rain pounding against the front windows. It’s oddly relaxing, making me wish I could stay here until it’s over, watching the drops race each other down the window until they eventually collect on the ledge.
“Have you spoken to him much more since I saw him?”
Gwen plants herself on the counter, tilting her head to one side with her hair cascading down one shoulder.
My cheeks grow hot, I'm sure they’re flushed, and I fully believe this feeling could spread across my entire body as I think about the last time I saw Avory.
One that was meant to be a friendly meetup after work, for Avory to show me his new guitar, but it felt like so much more than that. Gwen and I are the closest that friends can be and never have I questioned her hand touching mine, or having her close to me in an embrace, yet Avory causes a bombshell of questions to explode into every part of my mind with every movement.
“You have, haven't you? Oh, you've been seeing the hot guitarist, haven't you?”
“I'm sorry, hot? So, you like him too?”
Gwen bites her bottom lip as she attempts to hold back a laugh.
I fell for her comment, crap.
She jumps down as Xander nods towards the back door. I am fully aware they have other deliveries to do but I always enjoy their company.
“As hot as he is, hun, he's all yours. What Xander said is true as well. No matter what happens with him, or her, or anyone for that matter, we have always got space for you. Now, it is time for you to do what's best for you!”
Gwen kisses my cheek before wrapping her arms around me, sweet floral scents now buzzing in my nose.
Why am I perfectly okay with the way Gwen touches me, yet Avory's touch makes me question if he means to do that? Does he realise he's doing this? Is he overthinking every move like I am?
I follow the pair to the back door and wave them off as they scurry to the van, trying to avoid as much rain as possible which clearly isn't going to stop any time soon.
I dig through the lost and found box – nothing. I search around the staff room – nothing. I squeeze my eyes shut in the hopes that an umbrella would just suddenly appear – nothing.
Crap, the rain has no chance of easing up, and it seems it would be going all night long so I can't hang about any longer. I brace myself as I open the front door, the once relaxing and comforting rain now intrusive, overwhelming and pelting down from the grey overcast.
I struggle to insert the key from how slippery and cold the metal has become, and the shutters become stiff to pull down, the screeching of the metal sending a piercing screech through my ears. With every jolt of the metal, brisk streams of water fall and run down the collar of my shirt and down my spine, causing an awkward, damp sensation to develop within the fabric.
Faint footsteps click around town, some of them speeding up as they run to their cars or to the closest shops, and the internal dread of having to eventually leave the minimal shelter I have from the small awning we have begins to present itself even more.
“Hey stranger.”
One set of those faint footsteps is heading my way, and now stands in front of the café, with that same smile which feels like my own personal sun, bursting through this horrible weather.
The smile that has appeared on my face feels real, and nothing about this feels pretend. Rain collects in my curls and begins to drip down my glasses, blurring the beautiful man in front of me dressed in his usual dark attire, except he has an umbrella in hand and the comfiest looking hoodie on. Thick and fleecy, I'm pretty sure there's room for the two of us in there.
“Hey, Avory! Sorry, we're closed.”
“I'm not here for coffee, I'm here to walk you home in this dreadful weather.”
I’m startled by his words. Spending time with Avory, thinking of Avory, letting my mind dream about what could be with Avory is already dangerous enough, but having him close to my home, the place where she ties my wrists and binds my mouth in the form of anxiety and pain which sits with me constantly, is a new fear.
My stomach churns at the thought of my mother ever finding out about Avory. In the past, she has threatened me, ignored me, punished me, but nothing has ever come of it because I always back down before anything she says comes to fruition.
I'm lucky that she never arranged anything with that Emily lady. She has always had fear collared to me while I hope that making her dream come true would release me. I’m not so sure anymore.
“What a gentleman.”
“I try my best.”
Avory winks as I squeeze in under the umbrella.
Did he purposely choose the smallest umbrella?
The rain hammers against the thin, black cover as we walk side by side, I direct what way to go as we begin to stroll down the high street and by the shoreline. My entire focus falls on our hands as they continuously brush against one another. The temptation to lace my fingers between his starts to build more and more as the walk goes on.
Sawyer, say it with me… FRIENDS.
“So, I heard your show went well last night?”
His gaze meets mine as he smiles at the mention of the band. It clearly means so much to him.
“So, people are talking, huh? It went amazing! With Tetherton being a pitstop towards the festival grounds which surround it, and the beach festival you guys hold, it's the perfect place for music! You just have to hope and pray that someone notices you on their journey in and out of the town. Marcus and I have actually made a bet that we won’t leave Tetherton until we get our shot.”
“Wow, I've lived here my entire life and I've never known that we're surrounded by festival grounds.”
“So, do you ever get out of that café then or…?”
Avory quietly chuckles to himself, and I find myself joining in.
Never before would I find myself laughing about being trapped in my mother's café until she accepts me, if she'll ever accept me, but Avory is infectious.
“Of course I don't, because if I'm not there, who's going to provide you and Marcus with your delicious coffees?”
I lightly shoulder his side with a smile as his arm lays behind me, his hand briefly resting on the small of my back before falling back to his side.
I don't want his hand to leave, I want it to wrap around my waist and pull me closer to him.
I find myself staring at the slightly damp hairs which stick themselves to Avory's face as we turn away from the shore and onto the estates. The streets are filled with the same ivory front doors and burnt red brickwork, a variety of hedges and potted plants lining the paths.
“I wanted to ask you something actually.”
Avory's demeanour changes. His pace slows and his hand brushes against mine more and more.
My mind races at everything and anything that Avory could want to ask me. What could a friend ask another friend which can cause him to act like this? I nod and hope that whatever it is, I can answer.
A puzzled expression spreads across his face as he tries to piece his words together, his neck muscles tensing as he swallows. The longing to trace all his definitions with my fingertips, or my lips, is overpowering to say the least. I have never seen this side of Avory where his confidence and positivity aren’t foremost and centre, and my heart rate picks up as the words fall from his mouth,
“Do you ever feel like this is a weird friendship? What I mean is, I get that we have known each other for what feels like minutes, well, we hardly even know each other, but please don't tell me that I'm the only one that feels something here?”
My mouth begins to dry from my lips being parted for so long. Did Avory just say that he feels something here, too? My chest pounds as if my heart is trying to leap from its skeletal cage and into his grasp. I am so invested in this man already and it’s so early on, it frightens me but knowing that he feels the same is warming to my core. I should've known that trying to convince myself that friendship is a possibility was utterly stupid.
I need to tell him everything.
We stop as we reach the top of my street, a row of evergreen hedges standing tall behind Avory. I turn to face the man who has somehow turned one of the gloomiest days of the year into one of the brightest.
“Shit Sawyer, I'm sorry. I've literally just asked you outright if—”
Avory is interrupted as two beaming headlights throw themselves around the corner, a car speeding through the puddles which have grouped together by the curb closest to us. Avory whips the umbrella behind my back to face the car, preventing any more of my shirt from becoming soaked.
His arms relax on either side of my waist as my hands land on his chest in an attempt to stop myself falling flat on my face. The car's spitting exhaust turns distant as the rain begins to fill the space between us, except my heart is screaming to close this space.
Gwen and Xander's words flutter through my mind with very little resistance, every thought that yells at me to never even look at a man are now silent for the first time.
“Avory, may I?”
My hands travel from his firm chest to his neck. One hand rests there with my thumb tracing his jaw, while the other slides into Avory's now dripping hair. I sweep back his jet waves from his eyes, my hand trailing to the back of his neck and resting in his roots.
Avory drops the umbrella as his hands meet my waist, our eyes lock to each other. In this moment, I feel every part of my throat close up and time stands still. I am falling for these ocean eyes, which I silently beg to open up so I can drown in them. Drown myself in Avory's being in this moment, because this man.
This goddamn man.
He has a grip on me that I never want him to loosen. I want it to tighten until it’s crushing me, but I worry that he will have to let go for his own good one day.
No. Sawyer, this is the first time we're demanding that your head shuts up.
Avory's warm breath tickles my lips as my hand tangles itself in his waves and curls, and his hold on my waist grows in confidence. My gaze flickering between his eyes and his lips until my eyelids come across. Inches become centimetres which become moments between us as my lips gently press against his.
His lips are soft and full of heat just waiting to escape onto mine. Nothing matters. The rain pouring over us; the cold winds now lashing against us, the umbrella now blowing down the street, none of it matters because all that matters is us, right here, right now.
My heart and breath are whisked away from me, and straight into Avory's possession. I have to drag my lips away from his, but I could've stayed there forever, with him. Ridiculous smiles grow on our faces as we both laugh lightly at each other. My eyes lock onto our shoes as I can't hold back the scarlet heat which spreads across my entire face.
“You're so formal. Sawyer, may I?”
I can tell that confusion wipes the completely smitten look off of my face as Avory leans back in with no hesitation.
That perfect feeling of his lips on mine comes rushing back but so much more intense, and I completely sink into it. Avory's hand cups my cheek as his fingers rest against the side of my neck, his thumb running over my cheek bone, and it feels beyond incredible just to be touched by him.
I'm sure he’s aware that I’m practically melting because of him, a low hum coming from his throat and resonating through his lips and onto mine. God, that noise alone is causing a tight situation to build elsewhere. I could get used to hearing that.
Avory's lips pull away from mine, but his hand never leaves my face.
“Avory, I like you. I said it, and that's a massive thing for me. It's just, my life is difficult, complicated, and very hard right now.”
His hand falls from my cheek and trails down the side of my neck, my shoulder and down my arm until his hand is in mine. Our fingers intertwine and of course, they fit perfectly. His painted nails sit nicely between my knuckles.
“Sawyer, you don't need to explain anything to me that you don't want to, but I would like to see you again, and not just across the counter. Could we work through it?”
“I'm not sure, Avory.”
“That wasn't a no.”
Avory winks at me and I feel the crimson heat in my cheeks spread across my body, fuelling the already tight sensation which is just starting to calm down. I don't think he understands what he's getting himself into.
“Avory, I want to tell you everything and—”
I want to, I want him to know every single thing about me and I want to learn everything about him, every single detail and create the book of Avory Bright, yet something always has to interrupt.
Something arrives here to tell me that everything about this is a bad idea – another car. It races around the corner, and with no umbrella to protect us, we are drenched by a murky wave.
Avory wraps his arms around me, my head landing on his shoulder and my lips barely an inch away from his neck. I could happily stay in the pouring rain with him if it means I stay where I am, with his gingerbread scent swimming in my nose.
That same chesty chuckle erupts from Avory as his hair forms inky spikes, soaked in rainwater. His eyeliner is exactly like Gwen's though, it hasn't moved despite the downpour.
“I want you to get home, I don't want you to get ill.”
Avory's arms are still wrapped around me as we speak, my head resting in the nook between his shoulder and neck. My eyes lock onto his neck twitching as he talks.
“Oh, what a shame if I were to get ill. Who on earth would make your coffee each day?”
The laughter continues between us.
“But you aren't getting away from me that easy Sawyer, we are having this conversation next time I see you.”
I roll my eyes and nod; it seems laughter is going to become the most common sound between us. He places his lips on my forehead as his arms slink back to his sides. The only remaining connection is our hands, but we reluctantly pull our fingers apart.
“Until I can tell you everything, nothing more than this? Please, promise me?”
The words roll out of my mouth, and I don't fully understand why I ask this because I want so much more with Avory. I've had the slightest hit and now I'm hooked. It’s needed. He deserves to know what he could be signing up for, if anything else happens.
Avory smiles and nods as we exchange our goodbyes. I watch as he turns and leaves, a slight jog to his step as he throws his hood up. My eyes take in as much of him as they possibly can until he disappears around the corner.
I practically throw myself into the house, the front door reverberating throughout the house and practically shaking the walls.
I glance at the clock on the wall, I’m fully aware that I have been coming home later than usual recently, and I always fret over how long it will take for her to notice since she knows about the only two people in my life.
She doesn't know that it's possibly three people now, and she doesn't know that the third person is an extremely attractive guitarist who I have just kissed in the cascading rain. I would give anything to have his soft, warm lips on mine again.
“Sawyer?”
Her voice erupts from the living room before she appears in the doorway.
Her hair is matted into a bun and a stained football shirt that definitely isn't hers hangs off her body. I peer past her tiny frame and into the living room to see a burly man who sits shirtless, balancing a beer bottle on his stomach as the many others roll around by his feet. I have never seen this man before.
Her eyes examine my entire being, taking in her son who is soaked from head to toe.
“Yeah, you can just head upstairs for the night,”
she whispers as she slams the living room door in my face, the smack of air that follows sending a freezing shock over my wet body.
The longer I stand here, the more I wonder if the shock is from the cold or that once again, I'm a thought that is getting closer to just being forgotten completely.
The man's voice bellows, the depth of his bass can be felt through the walls and floor. “Was that your son? The footballer?”
And there's the lie. The reason that poor bastard has been lured into her nest.
I take off up the stairs and swing my bedroom door shut. I've been in this house for minutes and all of the colours which Avory made brighter than I thought possible have been dulled to nothing.
All of my senses which Avory has overwhelmed in the best possible way are now numb, this numbness being what I am familiar with. How can I go back to this lack of feeling after Avory makes me feel everything and more with such intensity?
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and a smile instantly grows through the tears which begin to drip down to my chin.
Avory: Hey, you.