Chapter 48
brIE
Tess, Squeakers, and I are curled up under a blanket together, a romcom on TV in the background that was supposed to distract us.
Instead, all I can think about is Sawyer and how worried I am.
It feels like days have gone by. In reality it’s barely been more than an hour.
But every minute, every second has been an opportunity for me to catastrophize.
A car door slams outside, and we both jump. My heart races me to the door. I don’t know what to expect. Ripped clothes? Bloody noses? Black eyes?
But when I yank open the door, they look .
. . almost exactly the same as when they left.
Not a hair on Sawyer’s head is out of place, his flannel sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, and his jeans look as good as ever.
Nash’s tie is loose around his neck, but I can’t remember if it was like that already.
For a long moment, Tess and I stand frozen, staring at them. I’m sure she was expecting the worst right along with me.
Then, at the same time, we jump into their arms. Me in Sawyer’s, her in her brother’s. I nuzzle my face into the crook of his neck, guzzling down his perfect scent.
“I’m so glad you’re okay,” I whisper.
And that’s when I realize his entire body is stiff. A two-by-four would be more snuggly. He pats my back once, and I untwine myself from around him, hurt.
His eyes flick down to my hand, where I’m still holding Squeakers. Expression inscrutable, he very intentionally looks away, and a fist squeezes my heart tight.
A hopeless kind of desperation takes hold of me. I need to tell him I love him. I want to shout it at him, but now isn’t the time. This isn’t about us. My entire body tenses at the effort to hold back the words, to have patience. But I have to tell him tonight. I won’t let him leave until I do.
Tess, who knows enough, ushers Sawyer and Nash inside, and I close the door behind them.
Once we’re all sitting around the kitchen table with a round of drinks, I can’t keep my eyes off Sawyer, willing him to meet my gaze. If he’d just look at me, he’d know how I feel, but he keeps his eyes firmly on Tess.
Tess says, “So?!”
“He won’t bother you again.” Nash’s voice is scratchy, and he takes a sip of his whiskey.
His sandy hair is darker than her bright blond, his square jaw more masculine than his sister’s delicate features. But they both have the same full lips, the same blue eyes.
“What—what did you do?” Tess asks.
Sawyer clears his throat. “We made him understand you’re not alone, gave him some much-needed rules to abide by. And if he breaks them, he’ll regret it.”
“It was easy,” Nash says, disgust heavy in his voice. “The little shit doesn’t have much fight unless you’re small and helpless.”
“I’m not small,” she pouts, which is true. She has a good half-foot on me.
Nash ignores his little sister and points his finger at her. “If he ever bothers you again, contacts you in any way—and I’m talking him or someone on his behalf—you tell us.”
In his words, his demeanor, I see the successful lawyer he is. But more than that, I can see how hard he loves. Nash is the kind of man who’d burn the world down to protect the lucky people he cares for. He turns to Sawyer, who nods in agreement.
Nash drains his glass and turns to me. “Brie, thank you for being there for my sister.” He stands, and so does Sawyer. “Sawyer. Anything you need, brother. I’m there. Anytime.”
Their bro-hug has Tess and I reaching for each other, hugging too, Squeakers still clutched in one hand.
“Alright, I’m ready to get all this behind us,” Nash says to Tess. “I know it’s spring break. Let’s go fill a couple bags with your stuff. I’m bringing you to my place for the week.”
I let out a relieved breath, glad she’s going to be okay.
Tess nods at her brother then hops to her feet and gives me a giant hug. “Thank you.”
I squeeze her back. “I’ll be here when you get back.”
She rounds the table to Sawyer. He hugs her warmly, lifting her off her feet.
“I’ll see you after break,” he murmurs. “Be safe.”
As we walk to the front door, I duck my head, trying to get Sawyer’s attention, to communicate with him that I want to talk, but he dutifully averts his gaze.
That desperation from earlier winds its way through me.
In a shameless effort to trap him here, I wedge myself in front of him, opening the door for Nash and Tess and blocking his way out with my back squarely to him.
“Bye!” I say, a little too loudly.
“Brie.” His voice abrades the back of my neck.
My nose stings as I swing the door closed.
He catches it from behind me, keeping it ajar.
I push harder, trying to shut it.
“Brie.”
“No!”
Turning around, my face inches from his, I say it again. “No. Please, you got to say something to me. Please hear me, too.” I’m speaking too quickly, breathing too fast. I hold Squeakers up between us. “Please.”