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After Sawyer leaves me to get changed, I strip out of my clothes, quickly pulling on one of his T-shirts. It falls mid-thigh, and although it’s big on me, I don’t feel comfortable wearing nothing under it, so I slip on a pair of his shorts too. They’re huge, and I roll the waistband over three times so the material sits at my knee. I look hideous, but with no other clean clothes, these will have to do for now.
It’s the first time I’ve been alone since Sawyer kissed me yesterday, and I can’t help but replay it over and over in my mind. Other than the occasional kiss on the cheek from my middle school boyfriend when I was twelve, I’d waited twenty-four years for the perfect first kiss. Sawyer certainly hadn’t disappointed. The look in his eyes though, as he told me how he felt but that we couldn’t be together, broke me. He appeared tortured, somehow thinking he’d crossed a line only he’d put there. Either way, I care too much about him to ever want to see that look on his face again. Maybe there’s a chance for us when all this is over, if this is ever over. I hope so.
Opening the bedroom door, I can’t help but wonder what Sawyer’s talking about on the phone. I could see it was Logan calling him, and from previous experience, Logan only seems to call with bad news. I edge out of the bedroom and onto the landing. I can hear Sawyer talking through his bedroom door, but I can’t make out what he’s saying. Despite wanting to know what’s going on, I don’t want to get caught eavesdropping. Instead, I make my way downstairs and into the kitchen. Neither of us has eaten this morning, and my stomach reminds me of that as it rumbles loudly.
There’s no fresh food in the house, and although it’s only ten-thirty in the morning, I pull a pizza from the freezer. It takes me a few minutes to figure out the oven, but I finally turn it on, sliding the pizza onto one of the racks. I’m just about to get a can of soda from the refrigerator when I hear Sawyer shouting, “Hallie, where are you?” His voice sounds strained, and immediately I’m on high alert.
“I’m in the kitchen,” I yell, making my way to the foot of the stairs. “What’s wrong?”
He’s rushing down the stairs, and he breathes a sigh of relief when he sees me. “Shit, nothing. I didn’t mean to scare you. I thought you’d be in your room. When you weren’t…” he trails off as his eyes drop to what I’m wearing. “God, Hallie, are you sure you don’t want to borrow some of Brooke’s clothes?”
“Why, what’s wrong with this?” I grin and spin in a circle, showing off my outfit. Unfortunately, my spinning is too much for the huge shorts I’m wearing, and the waistband I’d rolled over unravels. Before I can stop them from falling, they’re around my ankles. Thankfully, the T-shirt I’m wearing is long enough to cover everything, but I’m still mortified. I kick off the shorts and vow to only wear my jean shorts again. Sawyer, however, is almost hyperventilating he’s laughing so much.
“Glad you think it’s funny,” I tell him, my voice deadpan.
When he’s finally stopped laughing, he takes my hand and tugs me upstairs. “This is stupid. Come on. I’m getting you some of Brooke’s clothes and don’t argue. Okay?”
“Okay,” I concede. He’s right, I look ridiculous, but I hate to admit I quite like wearing his T-shirt. “Can I… can I keep this one to sleep in?” I ask, gesturing to his shirt. We’ve come to a stop outside a room I’m guessing is Brooke’s, and he turns to face me. His eyes track up and down my body, and he swallows heavily.
“Of course, you can,” he says quietly. His eyes hold mine, and I find myself wishing he’d kiss me again. As much as I tried not to cling to him on the bike like I usually did, he pulled me against him and gave me no choice. It felt a little like I was walking on eggshells with him, not knowing how to act, and I hated it. I’d always felt so comfortable with him. And now I want things to go back to how they were.
Sawyer leads me into Brooke’s bedroom, and I gasp. It’s even more beautiful than the guest bedroom I’m using. There is a huge bed on one wall and a large dressing table on the other. A door leads to what I’m guessing is a bathroom, and there’s a dressing room through an archway on the other side of the room. The walls are pale gray, and the comforter and drapes are pastel pink with small flowers all over them. It’s stunning.
“Help yourself to whatever you need. The closet’s through there.” He gestures to the archway across the room before flopping on the bed. “I’ll wait here while you change.”
I feel uncomfortable walking into Brooke’s closet. Would I like it if someone I’d never met wore my clothes? I’m not sure. I’d like to think I’d want to help someone if they needed it. Maybe Brooke is a better person than me and really won’t mind. I’ve no idea.
There aren’t a lot of clothes in the closet, but then, if she doesn’t come here often, I guess she wouldn’t leave loads of clothes here. Opening a couple of drawers, I find some yoga pants and tanks along with a black two-piece bathing suit. I have no idea if it will fit, but I’ll give it a try later. Taking Sawyer’s T-shirt off, I slip on a pair of yoga pants. They’re a perfect fit.
“Hey, Sawyer,” I call as I pull on one of the tanks. “Was everything okay when you spoke to Logan?” He doesn’t answer, and I frown. Gathering up another outfit for tomorrow, along with the bathing suit and Sawyer’s shirt, I make my way back into the bedroom. As he hasn’t answered, I’m assuming he’s left the room, but as I come out of the closet, he’s lying on the bed. He’s not asleep, so I wonder if he didn’t hear me. “Sawyer,” I say again. “Was everything okay with Logan?”
He sits up and pats the space next to him. “Not really. Come and sit down.”
“What now? Don’t tell me something else has happened.” As anxious as I am to hear what he has to say, I figure it can’t be any worse than what we’ve already faced over the past week.
“It’s your apartment.” He sighs before taking my hand in his. My eyes drop to where his fingers entwine with mine, and I suddenly feel sick.
“What about my apartment? What’s going on, Sawyer?”
“Someone broke in, Hallie.”
“What?” I whisper, my voice trembling. “Matt?”
“We don’t know yet. CSI is there checking for prints.” Hot tears sting my eyes, and as they begin to fall, I pull my hand from Sawyer’s, covering my mouth as I cry. Before I know what’s happening, Sawyer’s reaching for me, and I’m in his arms.
“Shh, sweetheart. Please don’t cry,” he soothes, his hand stroking my back.
“What does he want from my apartment?” I ask between sobs. Tears track down my cheeks, and I angrily swipe them away. “How dare he go through my stuff. I hate him, Sawyer. I hate him.” My voice has dropped to almost a whisper as my emotions swing between upset and anger. “I’m so sick of crying.”
“I hate that he’s doing this to you. It kills me to see you cry.” His face is etched with worry as he stares at me, and I find myself cupping his face with my hand. His eyes close as he turns his face into my palm. Reaching up, he covers my hand with his before turning his head slightly, his lips pressing against my palm. I want to feel his lips on mine again. It’s selfish, but I need him.
“Sawyer,” I whisper as I pull my hand away.
He opens his eyes, dropping his gaze to my lips. “Why is it so hard to stay away?” he mumbles seconds before his lips crash to mine. I instinctively reach my arms around his neck, and we fall back on the comforter. Sawyer’s body moves over mine, his weight pushing me down into the mattress. My hands tangle in his hair as his tongue pushes into my mouth. His fingers dig into my waist before his hand slides up my body, brushing the side of my breast. I gasp and arch into him, my whole body screaming for more.
More of what? I don’t know.
I just know I want more.
