Chapter 27
TWENTY-SEVEN
Sawyer
Colt didn’t offer to drive us home out of the goodness of his heart. Nope. He stood there, eyes narrowed as if I’d personally insulted his entire existence.
“Get in the car,” he snapped, like he’d already regretted agreeing to be our designated taxi.
Ellie and I slid into the backseat without a word.
The truck rolled forward. Colt grumbled, muttering about idiots and regretting every single life decision that landed him here. I tuned him out, watching Ellie instead for the entire drive.
He pulled into my driveway, throwing the car in park so hard I half expected the damn thing to explode.
“You’re on your own for getting the truck back,” he said, killing the engine.
“Noted,” I said, my voice flat.
“Try not to get into any more trouble. Please, for my sake.”
Ellie leaned forward, close enough that I caught a hint of her shampoo—something light and clean that made my head spin. “Thanks for the ride, Colt. We owe you.”
“Of course,” he mumbled, then drove off once we slipped out.
Inside, Ellie kicked off her boots and peeled off the hoodie, stretching like she had no idea the effect she had on me. Christmas lights made her skin glow. She moved, the hem of her shirt riding up a little, and I had to look away before I did something really stupid.
She curled up on the couch and pulled a blanket around herself. I dropped at the other end, pretending three feet was a safe distance. Which was a joke, because nowhere felt safe when she was close.
“So… what now?” she asked.
I was hypnotized by the way her lips moved through each word.
I dragged my gaze away from her mouth. “Stick to the plan. Read the journals. No more field trips. Definitely no more police stations.”
“Agreed. I don’t need that hitting the news. Plus, Lauren’s been through enough without us getting involved.”
I nodded. “I’ll make sure Colt keeps everyone quiet at the station.”
My eyes tried to betray me, drifting toward the way the lights hit her collarbone.
She tilted her head. “Do you think we’ve lost our minds?”
“About what?”
“All of it. The fake dating, the mystery hunting…” She bit her lower lip.
Oh, I’ve definitely lost my mind—less about the journal, more the fake dating the woman I want to do unspeakable things to.
Aloud, I said, “Yeah. I've thought about it.”
“And?”
I leaned back, trying to put more space between us even as every instinct screamed to close it. “Still don't care.”
I cleared my throat. “There’s a New Year’s Eve gala next week. Charity thing my buddy Zimmerman throws every year. I’m expected to be there. Press will be there too. Figured it might be good if you went as my plus one. You know, keep up the bit.”
“Oh, yeah, good idea. What charity is it for?”
“The Level the Field Foundation.”
“I’ve been donating to them for years.” She gave me a shy smile. “I’ve just never been able to make it to one of their events. It’d be good for me to finally show up.”
“Oh, sounds good. I’ll send you all the details for it.”
Her eyes dropped to my mouth and lingered there. When she looked up again, her pupils were dilated, and her breathing was slightly uneven.
She clutched the blanket. “Okay. I should probably… go to bed.”
“Yeah,” I said, rougher than I intended. “Probably should.”
We stayed frozen for a moment until she finally stood. The blanket slid off her, and she placed it neatly on the couch before walking down the hall.
Just before she disappeared, she glanced back. “Goodnight, Sawyer.”
I swallowed, hands tight on my knees. “Night, Ellie.”
She vanished into the hallway. I sat there in the golden glow of the Christmas lights, every inch of my skin on fire, knowing that if she walked back into that room, rules be damned—I'd be lost.