Chapter 18
COLLINS
Oh Jesus, fuck, he smells good.
Did I secretly hope he’d lend me his jacket?
Yes.
Am I pissed at myself for being so weak?
Also yes.
It smells like his bed, all Sawyer and fresh cologne.
I’ve witnessed other women talk about “man smell” and how it drives them wild, although I never understood what they were talking about.
That is, until I got too close to the Blades captain.
And now I’m wearing his jacket, his initials stamped across my chest.
Standing at the rear of his truck, I focus on the zip, entirely too distracted by my heightened senses to realize part of the lining is caught, and that’s why it won’t budge.
“You need some help with that?” He points at where I’m struggling.
I haven’t looked him in the eye since we arrived at the Botanic Garden, and I’m all kinds of off my game.
This is not my usual MO. Collins Mackenzie is self-assured and calm in most situations.
The last time I can remember feeling like this was when Gretchen Roberts stole the SuperMini World All-Stars title from underneath me on the final turn of the final race.
“I got it.” I fuss, pulling on the zipper that just—won’t—fucking—zip.
“Here, let me help.”
The instant Sawyer’s warm, rough fingertips touch mine, I pull away, the back of my knees hitting the truck bumper.
“I said, I got it,” I bite out, pissed at myself for being so snappy when all he wants to do is help.
In a move I really wasn’t anticipating, he steps forward, hands finding mine once more.
I catch a softness in his green eyes, brows slightly raised in question. I don’t flinch or try to move away as he frees the zip and starts fastening the jacket, his hands over mine as they slowly ascend my chest.
Since the Botanic Garden has an event tonight, there are a few people around us, but I don’t concentrate on anything other than the feel of his skin on mine.
I think that was what surprised me the most the night we hooked up—how my skin could vibrate with such intensity without the need for the usual toys I liked.
These past five weeks since I left his place in a hurry, I’ve been proactively suppressing—and avoiding—situations like this. Yet now, I get the feeling Sawyer isn’t going to back down so easily, and that thought catapults a shot of need in me that I can’t deny.
“Are you going to chase me down until you get what you want?” I whisper, my throat tight.
The zip was fastened a good few seconds ago, though Sawyer holds his hands over mine.
His eyes fall to my lips. “Is that what you want, Collins?”
My breathing is shallow and quick. “You can’t ask me impossible questions like that.”
He bites down on his plump bottom lip, and I’m unsure if he’s fighting the urge to kiss me or smile. “Now you know what it feels like.”
“What do you mean?”
His hands leave mine, finding the back of my thighs, lifting and perching me on the end of his tailgate. I want him to step between my legs and kiss me. Every single fiber in my body wants it. Even if I know it’s a really bad idea.
Sawyer’s eyelids fall shut, and he exhales deeply.
“Because I feel like I’m in an impossible situation with us—I’m chasing you even if you don’t want me to.
” He opens his eyes, nothing but honesty behind them.
“When I asked you to come home with me a second time, it wasn’t purely so I could wrap you around me again.
At the risk of repeating myself, all I want is your time and attention, all to myself.
At first, it was a fascination with the pink-haired girl who had said I wasn’t her type.
And now … now it’s a need, Collins. So, yeah, I’m going to chase you because I have no choice. ”
I want to run my palms across the scruff of his jaw, pulling his face closer to mine.
“And what would you consider a successful catch?” I ask, ears throbbing with my pulse.
Sawyer takes the smallest step back, hands finding his pockets. He looks uncomfortable at my question, maybe because he doesn’t think I can cope with his potential response. “That’s enough questions for now. Come spend some time with me.”
Okay, so the Botanic Garden is stunning.
And incredibly romantic when lit up in this way. The trees twinkle with warmth, the lake glows red, and even some of the pathways are lit by dancing multicolored lights.
“Is my jacket doing the job?” Sawyer asks as we pass under a long tunnel wrapped in white string lights.
We’ve been here around an hour, and night has completely fallen. Despite me saying I wouldn’t be bothered if he was recognized with me, I am grateful for the darkness, as it camouflages us far better than if we were here in daylight.
I snuggle further beneath my scarf, Sawyer’s scent penetrating it as we continue to walk around the Japanese Hill-and-Pond Garden.
“It is. Thank you,” I reply, pockets of air puffing into the atmosphere as I speak.
I look across at Sawyer, and he smirks.
“What?”
He shakes his head as we come to a stop by a huge Acer tree, this particular variety I know to be rare. I didn’t go to college, and I don’t have a fancy education, but Japanese culture—and food—is something I have studied in my own time.
He glances at the tree, shaking his head. “Nothing. Just something Archer said earlier.”
I quirk an inquisitive brow. “You guys were talking about the Acer tree?”
“Not exactly.” He winces and takes a seat on a white bench a few feet down from the main pathway. The position provides a view of the lake as a color-changing cycle begins, lighting the water in a beautiful way.
There’s a comfortable silence between us that doesn’t scream to be filled with small talk. Perhaps it’s the calm environment, or maybe it’s the company. I don’t know, but I feel the urge to do something alien.
Share.
“The year after my grandparents died, I visited Tokyo. It was only for two weeks, but I feel like it changed me.”
Sawyer twists his body completely around to face me. “In what way did it change you?”
I smile at the memories. “For a young girl, I’d traveled around the US a lot and then to a few other countries.” I eye him carefully. “I used to compete in motocross at a high level.”
Sawyer rolls his lips together. None of this is new to him, of course.
“But the traveling combined with an expensive sport took every last cent my parents had.” I cast a quick glance at the lake, now glowing pink.
“Mom and Dad always wanted to visit Japan. Dad had this obsession with their culture and history, but mainly the food.” I chuckle, remembering the times he tried to make sushi and failed.
“When they passed away in a car accident, they didn’t leave a lot behind since they’d had debts up to their eyeballs and our house was a rental, all because I’d been hell-bent on pushing my obsession with motocross, desperate to be number one.”
Sawyer doesn’t say a word. I can feel his eyes locked on me as I look out onto the lake.
I clear my throat of emotion. “Anyway, after they died, I quit competing and sold all my equipment. I resented the sport and how much it—and my all-or-nothing attitude—had taken away from them, including my dad’s wish to visit Japan one day.
From that moment on, I promised myself I wouldn’t take life too seriously, and I definitely wouldn’t take it for granted.
Life is too short to be stuck in one place, grinding away at the same nine-to-five job.
I designed my life specifically around freedom and the ability to up and leave whenever I wanted.
When my grandparents died and left me a nest egg, I went about making the most of the life I wanted to lead and never looked back. ”
A couple more seconds pass in comfortable silence.
“Look at me, Collins,” Sawyer eventually says, his voice firm but gentle.
“You always say that,” I reply, doing as he asked.
“That’s because you rarely do.”
I fight back the shrug I always seem to give him since I have no damn clue what to do when he’s around.
“When was the last time you shared yourself with another person like that?”
Don’t. Fucking. Shrug.
“I can’t remember. Kendra probably knows the most at this point, but I didn’t tell her everything about me and never about my past in motocross. I’ve always struggled to open up and especially about my younger self. I was a selfish kid and I’m not proud of it.”
Sawyer edges closer to me; I’m unsure if it’s deliberate, but I like the way it makes me feel.
“The only person I see in front of me is a good one. Thank you for sharing with me.”
His warm breath reaches my face, tickling my lips, and I wet them on reflex.
“I’m not unhappy, you know. In life. I’m probably happier than most people.” I’ve zero idea why I feel the need to qualify it, but the words tumble from me regardless.
He cocks his head to the side, studying me in a way that’s hot as fuck. Like, in this moment, I’m the only person who exists in his world.
“I can’t imagine choosing to be solitary is a happy place, but if you say so.”
I mirror his actions, cocking my head too. “Does that mean you’re unhappy? There’s only you and Ezra.”
Sawyer shakes his head, a tender smile in response to his son’s name. “I’m happy, but I never discount the opportunity for my life to get better, feel fuller.”
Since I shared a part of my past with Sawyer, I find myself wondering why his blood family isn’t more involved in his and Ezra’s lives. Did they die, like mine? Really, it’s his private business. But like a lot of things with this man, curiosity gets the better of me.
“How come you don’t see your parents?”
He draws in a deep breath. I wouldn’t say thoughts of his family hurt him, but by the look on his face, there’s a lot of emotions going on right now.