Page 92 of Sparks Fly

My fingers tightened around my glass.

“I heard him tell her once, ‘That’s our son. Take it or leave it. And if you leave, you’re going to lose more than you think.’”

I looked down at my wine.

“She came back,” I said quietly. “But it’s never really been the same.”

Sawyer squeezed my hand. “You’re scared.”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

“You’re allowed to be. None of this is easy.”

I forced a small smile. “It feels stupid after everything you just told me.”

She shook her head. “It isn’t. One kind of pain doesn’t cancel out another.” Her thumb moved slowly across my knuckles. “I want to know you, Addie. All of you. And I want you to know all of me.”

Her gaze held mine.

“That’s new for me. I don’t usually do vulnerability. I don’t hand people the messy parts and trust them not to use them against me.” She drew in a quiet breath. “But I want to try with you. The polished parts, the fear, the joy. All of it. I don’t care if we’ve had three dates or thirty.”

My throat tightened suddenly, and I blinked quickly I could feel tears prickling behind my eyes. “I’m happy,” I said.

Her answering grin was quiet but certain. “Me too.”

Our food came and we lingered over pasta and wine, talking and laughing and stealing bites from each other’s plates. Our knees brushed under the table and never separated.

When the check arrived I reached for it automatically, but Sawyer was faster.

“I invited you,” she said as she slipped her card into the folder. “I pay.”

I tilted my head. “You’re very chivalrous, Sawyer Wilson.”

She smiled.

“What’s your middle name?” I asked.

“Jean.”

“Sawyer Jean Wilson,” I repeated, testing the name on my tongue. “I like that.”

“What’s yours?”

“Lauren.”

“Well, Addison Lauren Hart.” Her eyes held mine. “I like you. A lot.”

My heart did a ridiculous little flip.

The check sat forgotten between us for a moment, neither of us eager to break whatever had settled over the table.

By the time we walked back to the house, the sky had gone dark. Warm lights stretched across the street, and Sawyer’s hand stayed wrapped around mine the entire way.

She unlocked the front door and held it open. “After you, girlfriend.”

The word still sent warmth through me.

Girlfriend.