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Today we work on some close-combat self-defense, which is mainly grappling and learning ways to get out of holds. I had been getting better at this—at using the opponent’s strength and size against them, as I’m probably not going to get grabbed by anyone smaller than me. Now, though, I’m faltering. Every time Sawyer gently pins me, I picture her under him in this same space, and my heart beats erratically. I thought I could push it aside, but it doesn’t seem to be working. I can’t stand being just another girl in the same position, and in a rush to get his hands off me, I leave myself vulnerable. I’m crawling away, but he easily grabs my thigh and pulls me under him, and I lose all cool, pushing at his chest and thinking of nothing but her being in the exact same position I’m in. He loosely cages me in, and by the time I register how futile it is and glance up at him, and he’s looking down at me with worry in his eyes.
“You ready to talk about it?”
I can’t look him in the eye, though. I’m afraid the hypocrisy of my jealousy is suffocating me. He slides a hand around the back of my neck and uses his thumb to tilt my jaw up so I have to face him.
“I didn’t realize open meantopen,” I blurt out, before I can second-guess myself. It doesn’t even really make sense, but he seems to understand, catching on to the topic quickly.
“You thought it was just for you?” he asks gently. “You thought we’d obsess over you, share you, and never get hard for another woman again? Us both, just for you?” I close my eyes in shame at how unfair that is, but it’s true—that’s what I thought. “That’s exactly what this is.”
My eyes fly open at his soft tone. “But that girl—”
“Was just a random girl who came up to me. If you’d have come up to me, I’d have grabbed you and kissed you in front of her. I wasn’t trying to hide anything.”
But I hadn’t given him the chance. I thought the worst because of what I saw before and didn’t bring it up with him. I internalize my shit and build it up to be way worse than it is. I know this after the fact, but it’s so hard to recognize in the moment.
“I saw you in the gym before,” I remind him. “With the girl.”
“I know. I don’t know how much you saw, but I had my hands utilized. I had to stop myself from face-planting her when she dropped on purpose, and she took her carefully crafted opportunity and grabbed me.” I flare with indignation for him, and he must sense it. “I told her off.”
“Told her off? You should’ve reported her!”
“She has one warning,” he says calmly.
“I didn’t exactly stick around to watch,” I admit. I just assumed the worst. Of Sawyer, who has never once deserved that. Now I feel like shit.
“Well, that’s what happened.” He’s not mad, even though I’ve basically admitted to freaking out over nothing. He doesn’t mind that he’s had to explain himself to me, to reassure me over something that wasn’t his fault. I feel like a bitch for doubting him—for pushing him away over this—and want to be honest in return.
“I hate the thought of anyone else touching you. I always have.”
“Ditto, Angel,” he says, sweeping his thumb over my lips. “But no one else is touching me with my consent.”
“As easy as that?”
“Of course. This is me and you. I will always give you what you want.” I open my mouth to protest, but he knows me too well. “This also happens to be whatIwant. You and only you. I have no interest in anyone else. Why would you doubt that?” The hurt from when he didn’t answer my calls flares in my chest, but it’s too pathetic. I can’t voice it.
“You have me, too,” I say, “even if this is unconventional. You need me, I’m there. If you want me, take me.” I don’t want him to ever feel like he’s sacrificing anything by sharing.
“I will definitely take you up on that, but stop deflecting.”
“Are you going to let me up?” I ask, trying again to distract him.
“No. I love having you under me.” My eyes narrow playfully, but my skin heats. I love it too. “You can tell me now, or you can tell me with Ezra here.”
“Ezra’s coming?”
“He’s coming to take you to lunch, because I know you won’t have eaten.”
I haven’t, and the fact they’ve thought about me makes me warm inside. Sawyer cares for me. He’s said he loves me before—only once—but even so, he shows me he cares. He knows me. I trust him. Sometimes my mind plays tricks on me, but I trust him with my heart. I need to remember that.
“You didn’t answer my calls,” I say. Recognition hits him, and his eyes go from adoring to regret, actual pain behind them, which isn’t what I wanted at all. “It’s stu—”
“No, it’s not. I didn’t answer when you called, and I should’ve. There’s no excuse, Harlow, so don’t try to give me one.” He’s so serious, so I keep my mouth shut and let him get it out. “I have a reason. It’s not an excuse, but I’ll tell you anyway, because I hate that you could for a second think it meant I didn’t want you or that you weren’t enough for me. I’ve loved you for a long fucking time. Too long.” My heart leaps at thel-word, but I let him continue. “I dealt with it because, like you, I thought it was best for our friendship. I put up with the losers you slept with because I knew they meant nothing. Then Ezra turned up, and he meant something... and I hated it. For me. For you, I was glad you had someone. But for me, it fucking sucked. So that night, I was pretending I wasn’t at your beck and call. I was trying to forget everything in some random woman to prove I could, and it was one of the worst choices I’ve ever made.”
“Sawyer—”
“The look on your face when you realized I’d purposely screened your calls,” he continues over me, “it’ll gut me forever. Finding out you were calling because you needed my help to get away from the Guards made me so fucking furious with myself.” But I’ve never once thought about that; it wasn’t an issue to me. The thing I hated was that he’d chosen someone else over me. I really need to get my shit together. My abandonment issues can’t keep fucking my life up like this.
“So you didn’t choose her?”
