Logic says I need to pull away. No matter how badly I want this, she just got out of a relationship. She’s hurting, and I refuse to be a mistake. She’s too important to me. It’s not worth losing everything we have for a brief taste of the woman in front of me. Not when I’ve got my eyes on forever.
“Is it, Sawyer?” she presses. The scent of coffee and sugar that always clings to her assaults me now, intoxicating me as it invades my senses.
Does she want this, too? Hope pummels me when she doesn’t immediately pull away. It pushes me past the desire and brings me dangerously close to blinding joy. Maybe this is why she wasn’t with Jack, maybe?—
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” She rolls her eyes and pats my chest like I’m a puppy she just gave a treat to. “Always the flirt. Never actually means anything. You just toy with people until you’ve got them right where you want them. Well, congratulations, Sawyer. I’m alone again. You’ve got what you want.” She starts to pull away.
This was a test? A game?
Fresh pain slices through me as she drives a dagger straight down into my heart. I walked right into this, though. I let her play me like a fiddle, those delicate fingers toying with each and every one of my strings.
What’s worse? I’d let her do it again in a heartbeat.
Before she gets too far, I grip her arm again, moving in so close I can count the flecks of green and copper in her hazel eyes. “Don’t tease me like that again,” I warn.
Her lips part, pupils dilating. “And why is that?” she demands, bottom lip quivering. “We both know that’s all you’ve been doing with me.”
That sharp jaw of hers is set, her gaze full of fury. I want to call her bluff. Take her mouth with mine so I can show her just how desperate I am for more. But right now in this moment, that would be a mistake. So even as it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done, I restrain myself. The truth is, what’s between us is far from over. Anastasia just doesn’t realize it yet.
My gaze drops to her mouth a moment before I raise it back to her eyes. “Because you’re playing with a fuse that’s been lit a long time, Knox. And I’m not sure how much longer I can keep it from going off.”
Chapter 6
Anastasia
“Anastasia, open up!”
I sprint down the stairs, heart-pounding as my mind races through all the worst-case scenarios. Did something happen? Is he hurt? Sometimes he works late at night. What if a car fell on him? What if a tool slipped and got his hand?
I rip the door open as thunder crashes just outside. Sawyer, soaking wet from the raging storm, rushes into my coffee shop, his hands beneath his jacket.
After locking the door, I turn toward him, frantically looking for injuries. “What happened? Are you okay? Let me see your hands.”
“I’m fine.” He flashes me a grin. “And now, thanks to you, this little guy is, too.” He opens his jacket to reveal a shivering orange kitten. The thing is barely the size of a potato. All of the fear I had for Sawyer moments ago vanishes at the sight of the terrified animal.
“Who is this?” I squeal and reach out for him. Sawyer deposits the tiny kitten into my hands.
“This is little Axel.”
“Axel?” I look up at him. “Why is he all wet? Why did you bring him out here? You could have waited until tomorrow to show me that you got a cat! Or you could have called me! I would have come over!”
He laughs, not at all bothered by the fact that I’m talking a million miles a minute. “I just found him tucked away in the wheel well of a car that was towed in this morning.”
“You just found him? In this storm?” I’m horrified at the thought of this sweet baby being out there alone. He must have been terrified.
He nods. “He was meowing, and I heard him when I walked by. Poor guy, the storm terrified him.”
“He looks so little.” I take the kitten toward my apartment stairs and climb, with Sawyer following. I’d left the door open in my frantic dash down the steps, but Sawyer shuts it behind me and sheds his jacket.
I try to ignore the way my heart leaps when the muscles of his arms flex with each movement. The way the droplets of rainwater slide down the side of his face, falling from his dark hair.
Wow. Could he be any more perfect?
Time to shake it off. Friends, we’re just friends.
With the personal reminder to stop focusing too hard on what I wish could happen between us, I turn my attention to the little kitten.
“What do you think he needs?” I ask Sawyer. We didn’t have pets growing up because my dad was allergic. Does he need milk? Water? Food? Can he even eat food yet?
