Page 106 of The Snowflake Effect

Oblivious to my turmoil, he says, “If you can’t decide what to order, we’ll have to break it down. Pros and cons.” He steps behind me as a group of three squeezes past us to order at the counter. The toes of his shoes touch the heels of my ankle boots.

“Okay,” I say all breathy, like I’m twenty-six going on sixteen.

“The Veggie Vixen is off the list for obvious reasons. Portobello mushrooms don’t replace meat. The Napa Wrap could be decent since turkey is your go-to choice. The apple is a plus, and you eat kale like it’s going out of style. But the blue cheese is a deal-breaker.”

“I like blue cheese.”

“No, you don’t. No one actually likes something that smells like feet. And the honey-mustard dressing is questionable. If they use that Dijon crap, it’s a hard no.”

I tilt my head so he can see me roll my eyes, and my hair catches the stubble along his jaw. He brushes the strands away, grazing my ear.

My IQ joins my belly in a free fall.

It’s been like this since Aspen, my feelings and attraction to Sawyer growing by the week. The day. The minute.

I often pick apart the domino effect that led us together, a string of innocent coincidences: Shay staying in her toxic relationship with her ex, him dumping her, then Raven and I taking her on a girls’ trip to Aspen. Shay skiing into Kolton, and us girls unknowingly knocking on his condo door, where we met his friends. Without any of those choices, I wouldn’t have looked into Sawyer’s brown eyes as we talked design and clothing for five days, my I have a boyfriend the only thing keeping him at a platonic distance.

Now, nine months later, I’m working for his retail chain, while crushing on my boss.

And I still have my boyfriend.

Another couple hurries in, and the man accidentally brushes against us. Sawyer tips into me and grips my waist to keep from falling. The man apologizes and Sawyer replies, but I don’t hear a thing. I may be wearing a thick pea coat, but I sense each of his fingers—his thumb on my back, his large hand curling around my waist, his index finger touching my ribs.

I inhale deeply, and I swear his grip tightens. I’m on my feet, no chance of falling, but he doesn’t let go.

“Back to the pros and cons,” he says, his voice deep and heavy in my ear. The rest of his playful menu descriptions barely register.

His lips stay near me, his hands spanning my waist as he helps me decide what to order, and I’m hazy, almost weightless from his proximity. As though I’m air and he’s light and we’re lost in space. The way he takes advantage of moments like this, touching me, talking close, I wonder if he feels it, too.

But I’m not available.

“So, what will it be?” he asks.

“Sorry, what?”

He pauses, drops his hands, and steps to the side. No air. No light. Only confusion. “What will it be?” he repeats. “The offensive blue cheese wrap, or the Greek chicken one with the olives and feta?”

Just like that he flips us back to friends and coworkers, as though I imagined the heat between us. “I’ll get the blue cheese one.”

As he heads to the counter, he says to me, “If you’re nice, I’ll let you have a bite of mine when you realize you made the wrong choice.”

I almost laugh. Almost. He has no clue how badly I want that bite.

More excruciating minutes later, Sawyer turns with our food. We remove our coats and sit at the counter. He takes the radish garnish from his plate and sticks it on mine. I give him my pickle.

After a few bites of his wrap, he says, “This is amazing. How bad is yours?”

I pick up a piece of fallen blue cheese and make a show of placing it on my tongue. “Delicious.”

“That’s nasty. But I’m glad my pros-and-cons exercise worked. When I go home and you get stuck making a decision, you should call me. I’ll talk you through it.”

That would be quite the conversation. “I’m capable of making my own decisions.”

“Sometimes.”

“Sometimes?”

He swallows another bite and shrugs. “When it comes to work, you’re a decisive champ. You play around with options until you nail an idea. But when we go out to lunch or you rent a movie—you know, the important, life-altering decisions—you freeze. That’s where I come in.”