Chapter 7
Seven
Sawyer
I don’t know why I’m here, propping up the wall at Faye’s book signing when I have a million other things I should be attending to.
Of course, that’s also a lie.
I know exactly why.
Not only did I promise Faye I’d be here to support her on her big day but I’m also…
Hoping to catch a glimpse of her.
Of Lainey.
Unfortunately, she’s not among the women sitting here, entranced by Faye and all of her sweetness, her cleverness, her kindness as she answers questions, as she signs books and talks to her readers.
For as shy as she is, Faye’s really good at making everyone feel welcome and calm.
Then again, I already know that.
I’ve seen the women of the Grizzlies do that time and again.
First Luna. Then Faye. Then Harper. And now Lain—
“Sawyer?”
I glance over, see a pretty brunette smiling at me.
“I thought that was you.” She shifts closer, touches my arm. “I haven’t seen you in ages.”
“Hey,” I say, trying desperately to place her.
Her face falls.
Shit.
Then her name pops into my mind. “Chloe, it’s good to see you again.”
Her smile comes back. “You remembered.”
“Of course I do. How’s the traveling going?”
She tells me about her work for a few minutes. Then says, “You should call me sometime.”
I open my mouth, trying to figure out how to tell her that’s absolutely not going to happen—
But I don’t.
Because there’s movement down the hall behind her and my pulse is speeding through my veins and…
Fuck, Lainey is beautiful.
Dark curls flowing down her back, sumptuous curves I want to stroke. Kissable lips, sexy brown eyes. Hell, even her nose is beautiful.
And adorable.
I want to kiss the tip of it then press my lips to her forehead, to her jaw, to kiss that spot behind her ear makes her shiver and melt against me—
“Lainey,” Gray says, jarring me out of my thoughts and shifting in front of me, pulling her into a hug.
And something else I want?
To fucking murder him for daring to touch her.
Especially when she pulls back and doesn’t move to hug me, just smiles shyly as she tucks a curl behind her ear—or tries to, anyway. Because it springs free and, fuck, what I wouldn’t give to feel that strand of hair trailing over my naked skin again.
“Hi,” she murmurs, her eyes flicking to the side.
Hell, Chloe’s still standing there.
“Hey,” I rasp, and Gray’s head whips in my direction, his lips twitching, the fuck.
A pause.
“Right, um, well.” She slants a look over at Faye. “I’m already late, I should go say hi.”
I turn back to Chloe.
Who’s looking at me with knowing eyes. Her mouth kicks up on one side then she murmurs, “I’ll catch you later.”
Nodding, I manage an absent goodbye.
Mostly because my eyes have drifted back to Lainey.
“My woman is the shit,” I hear and look at Gray, whose gaze is glued to his Faye as she talks to Lainey, pride shining brightly on his face.
“Yeah, she is,” I agree.
But I don’t look away from Lainey.
“What are you doing, man?” Gray mutters as I watch her walk away.
Yeah, I’m staring.
Yeah, it’s obvious.
“What?” I mutter back.
“She’s not for you.”
I whip toward him, glare. “Don’t be an asshole.”
“Takes one to know one.” A smirk. “Have you ever spent more than one night with a woman?”
Fucking nosy bastards, the entire lot of my teammates.
And anyway, I’ve spent more than one night with lots of women.
Sometimes two nights. Even three. Hell, there was that one time, it lasted five nights.
And the time I thought it would last for—
I slam the lid on the memories, lock eyes with my teammate. “That’s not any of your business.”
“Yeah?” His brows lift. “Well, Lainey is, and she’s had it tough. She doesn’t need…”
“Doesn’t need what exactly?” I grind out.
“Someone who’s going to take advantage of her.”
Rage rises up inside me so quickly I have to clench my hands into fists to keep from throttling my asshole teammate.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I hiss.
I don’t hurt women.
Not fucking ever.
In fact, it seems like they mostly want to hurt me…
I clench my teeth together until a sharp bolt of pain shoots through my jaw.
Because that’s not fair.
It’s not her fault—not either of their faults—that things went so—
Nope.
No fucking way. Not going there. Not tonight. Not ever.
“She’s grieving, man,” he says.
So am I.
For years now, I’ve been—
I slam the lid on those thoughts and glance away, looking at much more pleasurable things.
At Lainey.
Christ, I know I’m no good for her. It’s why I’m propping up this wall still instead of following her over and charming my way back into her bed. It’s why I haven’t done more than talk with her since that night when all I want is to touch and kiss and stroke every inch of her luscious body.
“I only speak the truth,” Gray mutters.
“You’re still an asshole.”
“That’s true enough.” He pushes off the wall and starts toward his woman, telling me over his shoulder, “And you’re only pissed because I’m right.”
I don’t reply, and I don’t follow him.
Because, asshole or not, he is right.
Instead, I let myself have one more glimpse of Lainey.
Then I leave.
Or I try to, anyway.
Oh, I get into my car, and I turn on the ignition, and I think about all the shit I need to do.
But I can’t make myself drive away. Not as the parking lot empties out. Not as Faye and Gray and the others leave. Not as Lainey comes out, a bag in one hand, a smile on her face, and—
“Fuck, no,” I growl, popping open the door and jumping out.
The cool winter air slaps at my face, but I barely feel it.
Because another asshole has his hands on Lainey.
“Don’t touch me!” she cries, swinging out with her bag.
The guy grunts right as I reach them and I grab his shoulder, shove him back. His eyes are crazed, something terrifying rippling across his face and he launches himself at me.
“She’s mine!”
And suddenly, I’m fending off fists and a big body and trying not to hurt this strange, deranged man.
Then I wonder why I’m bothering.
I cock back my arm and punch the fucker in the face.
He drops like a bag of rocks, hands clutching at his nose.
“Lainey—” I begin, immediately turning toward her. Only she’s not there. “What—?”
But, I realize a heartbeat later, she’s coming back with help in the form of bookstore staff, her phone glued to her ear.
“Are you okay?” she asks breathlessly.
I drop my foot onto the asshole’s back, shove him back down when he tries to get up. “I’m fine. You?”
A jerky nod. “I dropped my phone, but Caitlyn”—she hitches a thumb to the woman next to her—“called the police. They’re on their way.”
I open my mouth, intending to ask her who the fuck this asshole is but—
Sirens echo through the air.
The next hour is filled with questions from police officers and giving our official statements (and finding out that Lainey has no idea who the man is).
Then we stand back and watch as they shove the fucker into the back of the cruiser, as the detective tells us there’s nothing at this point to indicate this was anything other than a random attack.
Not that it makes it any better.
Lainey hasn’t stopped shaking.
And even though I’m no good for her, I step close and wrap my arm around her shoulders as she finishes talking to the officer.
“Are you okay?” I ask as the detective moves off.
“Yeah,” she lies, shaking, her hands clenched together so tightly her knuckles are standing out.
“Lanes,” I murmur.
Her throat works. “I’m fine,” she says, shoving back her hair, the curls immediately bouncing forward again.
“You don’t look fine.”
An exhale—a fucking shaky one. “I’ll be okay.”
“I know you will, Pages. But that’s not what I asked.”
Her brows pull together. “You asked if I was okay. I said I will be.”
“Which isn’t okay right now.”
A thread of temper in her deep brown eyes.
I give in to the urge and touch her further, turning her body toward me, taking her hands in mine and opening them, stopping her from digging her nails into her palms.
“Talk to me,” I order softly.
Her eyes slide closed. “I, um, just wish that Ollie wasn’t having that sleepover. The house is empty and—”
“Want me to drive you home?” I ask. “Make sure your house is safe? I can call Faye too, I’m sure she’d come over or you could stay with them.”
“N-no,” she says quickly, shaking her head sharply. “No, no.” A deep breath. “I don’t even know why I mentioned it. Forget I said anything. The guy’s in jail, and the detective said it was just a random wrong-place-wrong-time situation.”
I step closer, near enough to scent the floral notes of her shampoo. “I’ll drive you home, Lanes. Check out your house, make sure no one’s there.”
“You don’t have—”
“I’m doing it,” I say more firmly.
She shudders and those eyes peel open. “Sawyer,” she begins.
“I have time,” I tell her. A lie because my phone has been blowing up with texts and calls and reminders of all the shit I need to do. But none of them are more important than Lainey right now. “Promise. It’s not an imposition.”
“Are you sure?”
“So sure.” A beat before I go for the kill. “Plus, I know you have some of Harper’s sugar cookies. It’ll give me a chance to steal a few.”
Her lips twitch ever so slightly then she exhales quietly. “Thank you.”
“It’s nothing.” I shrug carelessly…even though nothing about this feels careless. “We’ll both know you’re safe, and we can always call one of the girls to come stay with you if you still are worried.”
She shakes her head in protest. “I’ll be—”
Before she can say fine, I wrap my arm around her shoulders again.
Guide her to my car.
I drive her home, check out her house, and find it full of nothing but books and toys and Christmas decorations (that’s to say—absent of any deranged men).
I want to linger, want to find an excuse to stay.
To touch.
But…not for me.
Not for me.
So, I force myself to head for the door, knowing I’ll absolutely be calling Gray and telling him to get his and Faye’s asses over here before I pull out of the driveway.
“I’ll see you soon,” I murmur, reaching for the knob.
But not grasping it.
Because she stops me, her fingers wrapping around my wrist.
“Sawyer?” she asks as I glance down, expecting her to be offering me those sugar cookies I teased her about earlier.
My heart thuds at the look in her eyes.
The uncertainty, the worry, the need.
“Yeah, Pages?” I rasp.
A deep breath, her gaze slipping from mine, her teeth worrying her bottom lip.
“Will you stay?”
A beat of quiet as my heart rolls over in my chest, as my pulse thunders through my veins, as my throat stoppers up and steals any hope of a reply.
“Just for a little bit longer?”
My phone buzzes in my pocket.
I don’t have to look to know who it is.
My mother.
Reaching down, I silence the call.
“Yeah, Pages,” I murmur. “I’ll stay.”