Chapter 4
Sawyer
W ondering what happened to me a few seconds ago, I look over to the crumpled woman on the floor.
Okay, I shouldn’t have called her fucking stupid. A small sense of guilt rises in my chest. I don’t have as much guilt as I thought I had, given that I’m eyeballing her cleavage. This was a complete accident. It wasn’t anyone’s fault, but man, am I pissed and a little shaken up that I almost hit someone, even if she wasn’t watching where she was going, and stepped out in front of me.
I completely ignore the friend shouting at me. I want to make sure that this woman is okay, even though I am the one being screamed at.
I can’t believe that I am looking at her cleavage while she is slumped over on the floor in visible pain. Sort your shit out, Sawyer.
“Hey – are you okay?” I bark out at her, and she continues staring at the ground. “Hey – look at me!” I demand, already tired of this entire encounter. She flicks her eyes up and glares at me. Her huge, deep brown eyes are bearing into me. If looks could kill, I would be dead.
“H-hi, asshole. There are better ways to get someone’s attention, you know!” The woman spits out her words in an English accent laced with honey. It almost makes this whole thing funny. She instantly pricks my attention with that attitude, so I intend to ask her if she knows the Queen of England but think better of it before the words leave my mouth. After all, she is on her hands and knees, scowling at me.
I offer her a hand off the ground, which she takes, and I pull her up to stand. I can see her face wince as my fingers press into her palm. Looking down at her hand in mine, I see the scratches and blood. Seconds before I could ask if she’s okay, she snatches her hand out of mine with such force that she almost stumbles back. A half smile curls up one side of my face.
This woman is spicy. I like it.
Honestly, I am not even sure if she’s going to try and hit me at this point, but I’m glad she is off the ground. She’s so beautiful, and I can’t help but stare.