“And I’ll be the third wheel,” Bridget says, but she doesn’t sound upset about that.
I’m not upset about anything anymore, especially when Sawyer kisses me. A sweet, hot kiss that doesn’t last long enough. When he breaks it, we head over to see my mom, passing the guy in the suit again. He’s talking on his phone.
“Yes, Oliver here,” he says, tone confident, commanding. “Yes, this place looks great. It’s everything we want,” he says—then his eyes stray to Bridget once more. “And everythingIwant.”
My eyes pop. “What does he want?” I whisper to Sawyer.
“Maybe we’ll find out someday soon,” he says.
Before I can even answer with amaybe we will, I do a double take when I spot Ian. The Brit from the dance class, and from Dog Tails. He’s here too. Seems like he’s waiting for someone in the lobby since he’s looking around. But then, he stops lookingwhen his gaze lands on Bridget, and stays there, his lips curving into a grin.
Well, well, well.
Someone has more than one admirer.
But I put my bestie’s prospects out of my mind tonight when my mom and Angelo make their way to the lobby, where my brother congratulates them. We head straight toward the happy couple too.
“Finally, your mother has made me an honest man,” Angelo says, sounding over the moon.
“I’m so happy for you. But I’m not calling you my stepdad.”
“Me neither,” Jay says.
“I wouldn’t dream of asking either of you to,” he says, then kisses my mom’s hand once more.
Life is good in Darling Springs.
Really good.
But I also want to get out of here with my dog and my man. After we say hello to his sisters, then chat with his dad and mom, as well as Latanya, my heart is full, but I’m so ready to go. We retrieve Captain from Levi, then escape the theater, and I draw a big breath of the warm night air, a little sea salt in the breeze.
“I love it here,” I say.
“Me too. Almost as much as I love you,” Sawyer says, then he tilts his head, an apology in his deep brown eyes. “I’m sorry again about the other day. I should have told you then. But I was convinced I’d let everyone down at the event. I was spiraling because of that. I thought I had handled it all badly.”
“You don’t have to do everything the right way all the time.What matters is that you see it and try again,” I say, trying to reassure him.
But he’ll have none of that. He reaches for my hand, squeezes it. “I’m not sorry Iaccidentallyknocked your ex into the pool. He had it coming.”
I laugh. “I am definitely not sorry about thataccidenteither. And you say choreography isn’t your thing. Please.”
He smiles, but then it fades, replaced by a vulnerable look in his eyes. “But mostly I pushed you away because I was afraid of being hurt.”
He sounds so raw and vulnerable. My heart aches.
“Me too,” I say. “I’m afraid of the same thing. And I didn’t give you much of a chance to say anything at your car. I didn’t tell you how I felt. But now you know. And I suppose we can be afraid together,” I say.
“We can be brave together,” he adds.
“I like that.” I tap-dance my fingers up his chest, stopping at his neck and standing close, very close to this sexy man. “But can we just fuck now?”
* * *
“Yes, yes, yes.”
I’m answering the question over and over again at his home.
“Say it one more time. Can we fuck every night?” he asks—or really, demands—as he drives into me, filling me all the way.
