Page 165 of His Reckoning

Cole nods. “You’ve never brought a woman around more than once. And you definitely haven’t had one living in your apartment.”

My jaw tightens slightly because the annoying part is that I know they’re not wrong.

I glance up at Kayla while she listens to Ma telling a story. The way she leans forward when she laughs. How she fits into the disorder of this family without even trying.

Something shifts quietly in my chest. A realization I’ve been avoiding for weeks.

They’re all right. I am completely screwed.

Because somewhere along the way … I fell for her.

The idea of walking away from this—from her—doesn’t even cross my mind anymore.

For the first time in a long time, I start wondering what it would look like if we stopped pretending this was temporary.

If we actually tried. If we dated.

The thought should terrify me. Instead … it feels dangerously possible.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Kayla

Something slams into my shoulder. I wake up instantly.

For a split second, I’m disoriented, the room dark and quiet, except for the distant hum of the city outside the windows.

Then Sawyer shouts, “No!” and a sharp, broken sound tears out of him.

His entire body jerks violently beside me. The mattress shakes as he thrashes against the sheets, like he’s trapped in something he can’t escape.

My heart jumps into my throat.

“Sawyer!”

He doesn’t hear me. His arms swing wildly, knocking the pillow to the floor.

Another strangled shout rips out of him as he twists onto his side, breathing like he’s running for his life.

Panic floods through me. “Sawyer, wake up!”

I grab his shoulders, trying to hold him still, but he’s strong, even half asleep. His arm flings out again, barely missing my face.

His chest heaves as another word breaks from him, garbled and desperate.

For a moment, I just stare. I’ve never seen anything like this.

Every muscle in his body is rigid with panic.

“Sawyer!” I say louder, shaking him.

His eyes snap open. He bolts upright in the bed like he’s been thrown out of the nightmare.

For a second, he looks completely lost. His gaze darts around the room, chest heaving, sweat soaking the sheets.

“Sawyer,” I say softly now.

His eyes finally find mine. The fear there stops me cold. He drags a hand across his face like he’s trying to wipe the dream away.