13. Sawyer
Sawyer
I never expected my night to end like this.
With Addison pressed tight to my back on the ride home. I was pleasantly surprised when she told me she’d gotten a car instead of driving herself to the restaurant, so I could offer her a ride home.
Now her arms were snug around my waist, her cheek pressing between my shoulder blades. The city blurred into amber and blue around us as the engine hummed low beneath the bike, but most of what I noticed was her.
The ride ended outside her condo sooner than I wanted it to, and when I cut the engine the quiet rushed in immediately. Addison didn’t move right away. Her arms stayed looped around my waist for an extra few seconds as though neither of us was quite ready to step back into regular life.
Eventually she slid off the bike and pulled the helmet free, shaking her hair loose as she stepped back onto the sidewalk. Her cheeks were flushed from the wind and the ride, and when she looked at me she bit her bottom lip before smiling softly.
“Thanks for the ride,” she said as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
“Anytime,” I replied while swinging one leg off the bike and standing beside her.
We lingered outside for a moment.
“You want to come up?” Her voice sounded casual, but her eyes held a hopeful edge that made it impossible to say no.
“Yeah, I do,” I said and followed her inside.
Her place looked exactly the way I imagined it would. Warm and thoughtfully arranged. Everything looked intentional without trying too hard.
She kicked her heels off the second she walked through the door. Bridal shower invitations were spread neatly across the console table, and a candle she clearly burned regularly left the room smelling like vanilla layered over something expensive and subtle.
“I’m gonna change,” she said, tugging lightly at the fabric of her dress. “I need real clothes.”
The smirk she gave me after that did something unfair to my nervous system.
“Make yourself comfortable,” she added before heading down the hallway.
I toed my boots off by the door and lined them up beside her heels, mostly because her apartment looked like the kind of place where people didn’t accidentally scuff hardwood floors.
I sat down on the couch and glanced around while I waited. There were little pieces of her everywhere once I actually looked for them. A stack of design magazines fanned across the coffee table with sticky notes poking out of a few pages. Framed photos crowded the shelf by the window.
Addison came back, the dress was gone, replaced by tiny sleep shorts and a thin cami that looked soft enough to ruin my concentration completely. Her hair was piled into a messy knot now, pieces falling loose around her face like she hadn’t bothered checking a mirror on the way out.
She looked different like this. A little messy and softer around the edges. Which somehow made her even hotter.
“You okay?” she asked, catching me staring.
“Yeah,” I said too fast, straightening a little. “Totally.”
Her mouth twitched like she knew exactly what I’d been looking at.
“You want a drink?” she asked as she wandered toward the kitchen. “I’ve got wine. Whiskey. Whatever.”
She opened one of the cabinets and pulled out a bottle that caught my attention immediately because it was the exact whiskey I always drank.
Same brand. Same label. And it was unopened. Which made me wonder if she bought it thinking maybe I’d end up here eventually. Because every time I’d seen her out, she drank red wine and nothing else.
“I’d love some whiskey,” I said.
She cracked the seal open and poured some into a low glass before grabbing a wine glass for herself and filling it almost halfway with red wine.
“You drink whiskey?” I asked when she handed me the glass.
“Not really.” She leaned one hip against the counter. “But I picked it up recently.”
I looked down at the bottle again before lifting my gaze back to her. “Good choice.”
“Is it?” she asked, and there was that look again. The one that made every conversation feel like flirting even when it probably shouldn’t.
“Yeah,” I said with a grin. “It’s the same one I drink.”
Her eyebrow lifted slowly. “Well. That worked out conveniently.”
I laughed quietly and took a sip, still watching her over the rim of the glass.
“I was thinking maybe we could start Buffy,” she said after a moment. “If you want to.”
I blinked at her. “You actually want to watch Buffy with me?”
“I told you I would,” she said with a small smile. “I meant it.”
We settled onto the couch together a few minutes later.
I stretched one arm across the back cushion while she tucked her legs underneath herself beside me.
She wasn’t touching me, not exactly, but she sat close enough that I could feel the warmth of her there anyway, and it was impossible not to notice it.
“Okay,” I said, “Get ready to have your world changed.”
“Oh really, that’s a lot to say about a vampire show from the 90’s.” She laughed.
“Buffy is not just a vampire show from the 90’s.” I scoffed. “It’s a cinematic experience.”
I tried to focus on the television, but most of my attention stayed on her. I noticed the subtle shifts in her breathing and the way she gradually relaxed deeper into the couch. Eventually, she leaned a little closer.
By the second episode, her knee brushed against mine.
She didn’t move away, so I let my hand rest lightly on her thigh and traced slow circles against her skin with my thumb.
She inhaled sharply before leaning into me, her shoulder settling against my side.
I brushed my lips gently against her temple before speaking.
“Can I kiss you?” I asked quietly.
She turned toward me with dark, steady eyes. “You better.”
The kiss began soft but the moment her mouth moved against mine, any careful restraint disappeared. Her fingers slid into my hair as she pulled me closer, and I wrapped my hands around her hips. She shifted easily into my lap until we were chest to chest.
Her kiss turned hungry in a way that made my head spin.
When I caught her bottom lip, she let out a quiet sound that sent heat racing through my chest. She moved against me without hesitation.
Her hands slid through my hair, along my jaw, and down my shoulders as though she couldn’t decide where she wanted them.
I broke the kiss long enough to press my mouth against the side of her neck.
“Fuck” She moaned and the sound she made was so sweet.
“You kiss like a sin,” she murmured against my skin.
I kissed her again, the last of the distance between us disappearing as she melted what felt like impossibly closer, her hips moved in slow rhythm against mine and her breathing grew uneven.
Fuck this girl is going to kill me.
Eventually I pulled back enough for both of us to breathe. Our foreheads rested together while we caught out breath.
“If we don’t stop now,” I said quietly, “I’m not going to stop.”
She nodded but stayed close for another moment before shifting slightly. “Okay,” She said but nothing changed. She kissed me and ground down into me, “Addison,” I moaned her name.
“Okay, okay,” She said kissing me one more time before sliding off. “I’m stopping.”
She glanced toward the clock and groaned. “My alarm is set for five-thirty.” She said leaning her head on my shoulder.
“That’s brutal,” I replied.
“I run six miles before work.”
“Tomorrow is Saturday, Addison.” For some reason saying her name like that felt, intimate. And I think she felt it too, because she looked at me with this soft smile.
“I keep a structured routine, I always have.”
I kissed her cheek. “You’re a machine.”
She leaned forward and kissed the corner of my mouth before smiling. “Not tomorrow,” she said. “I’m skipping it.”
Then she looked back toward the television. “Stay,” she said as she reached for the remote. “Watch a few more episodes?”
“You had me at skipping the run,” I told her.
We settled back into the couch with her between my legs leaning against my chest my arms wrapped around her. She pulled a blanket over us and I was maybe the most content I’d been in… ever.
Sometime after two in the morning, we both drifted off to sleep like that.
* * *