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“Yeah, okay… me, too.”

We stare at each other for a second before I force myself to walk away from him and roll my suitcase into the room. As soon as the door is closed and locked, I brace my hands on the edge of the sink and glance up at my reflection. For a week, the girl looking back at me has been a stranger and even though that’s still true, she looks lighter. There’s no confusion in her eyes or stress on her face because away from Gavin, I have the freedom to take my time figuring out who I am now - memories or not. I flash myself a smile as I push off the counter and open my suitcase. My pajamas are sitting on top - a pair of soft cotton shorts I’ve had since college and a white tank top. Biting my lip, I peek over my shoulder at the door and consider finding something else to sleep in. When I packed this morning, I had intended on being alone or with Mercedes when I wore this and the shorts are, admittedly, on the little side but before I can overthink it too much, I strip off my clothes and slip into my pjs before throwing my dark hair up into a messy bun.

Turning back to the mirror, I press my hands to my belly and rise up on my tiptoes to check the length of the shorts. They hit me at the top of the thigh but as I spin to check the back, I’m happy to see that none of my ass is hanging out. I turn back to face the mirror with a shrug and ruffle the bun on top of my head until it looks cute. As I’m inspecting myself again, I stop and shake my head. Crap. Why do I even care if I look cute for this guy? I’m certain that my attraction for him is nothing more than a week full of confusion and heartache urging me to seek out something uncomplicated because that is what I need right now. Sighing, I close up my suitcase and turn toward the door.

“Are you decent?” I call out and his light, husky laugh sends a rush of warmth sweeping through my body.

“Yeah, darlin’. I’m decent.”

I step out of the bathroom and he looks up from where he’s sprawled out on the couch in a pair of mesh shorts and a wife beater. More tattoos decorate his tan skin and his large muscles bunch and flex as he moves. His gaze immediately drops to the bronzed skin of my thigh and his lips part as one brow shoots toward his hairline. I can feel his eyes as he slowly drags them back up to my face and when we connect, the look he flashes me makes me feel like I’m on fire. I’ve never felt sexier than I do right now in some of the oldest, rattiest clothing I found in my closet.

Okay…

So, maybe there is something more to this than I thought.

“Uh… so I was, uh, thinking we should try to get out of here around seven and that should get us back to Baton Rouge around eight or nine.”

I nod. “Sure.”

“‘kay.” He nods and our eyes meet across the room. My heart is pounding so damn hard that I’m certain he can hear it on his side of the room and when his gaze falls to my chest, I suck in a breath. God, I can’t even imagine how good it would feel to kiss him but I sure as hell want to find out. No. What am I thinking? This is the last thing I need right now.

“Goodnight, I guess,” he says, cutting off my thoughts and my head jerks in agreement as I turn toward the bed and pull back the covers. When I was in middle school, I had this huge crush on this boy named Johnny but every time I tried to talk to him, I ended up tripping or mumbling or stuttering. Basically, I was a mess and there is something about Sawyer that makes me feel the exact same way. Maybe it is just because of everything I’ve been through recently or maybe it’s more. Honestly, I don’t know but I’m not going to figure it out tonight, that’s for damn sure.

As I climb under the covers, I peek across the room. His back is facing me now and I wince at the position Sawyer is curled up in as he tries to fit his large frame on the miniature couch. Sighing, I glance to the other side of the bed before turning back to him.

“Sawyer?”

He glances over his shoulder at me.

“You look miserable over there.”

Scoffing, he turns to face me. “You saying that just to rub it in how much this is going to suck for me.”

“No.” I giggle, shaking my head and he cracks a hint of a smile. “Come sleep on the other side of the bed.”

“Are you sure?”

I nod. “You stay on your side and I’ll stay on mine. We’re both adults. I think we can handle it.”

“Only if you’re sure…”

“I am,” I answer and he releases a breath as he tries to roll off the couch but ends up falling to the floor with a loud thunk and a grunt.

“Thank fucking God.”

I laugh as I watch him lumber to his feet and round the bed. As he climbs under the covers, I turn away from him and curl up on my side. He flips the lights by the bed off and when he’s settled, I look up at the ceiling and mentally try to tell the butterflies in my stomach to shut the hell up.

“Goodnight, Juliette,” he whispers and my heart skips a beat.

“Goodnight, Sawyer.”

Chapter Nine

Juliette

A horn blares through the room, piercing the morning stillness and jerking me from the first night of restful sleep I’ve had since waking up in the hospital a week ago. My mind screams in protest, trying desperately to pull me back into peaceful dreams and I’m just so damn warm and cozy that I might give in. Humming at the comfort surrounding me, I snuggle into my pillow and throw my arm over my ear to block out the noise but it’s persistent, demanding I heed its call.

“No,” I moan, trying to fall so far into the bed that I disappear. “Make it stop.”