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“Yeah, I sorta got that.” I rub my jaw. “How long are you in town for?”
“Why?” She looks at me warily, and my stomach lurches. She’s never looked at me like that.
“I said I’d give you space ‘just this once.’ I didn’t know that would stretch to eight years, but time’s up. We’re having a long overdue conversation before you ghost me again.”
“You think that matters after eight years?” She arches a thick brow.
“Yeah, I do.” My eyes drop, unable to stomach the hateful stare she’s giving me. “I think…”
“There you are.” The honeyed southern twang sends shivers up my back. “For a minute there I thought my date stood me up.” Amy wraps her arms around my neck before I can step out of reach.
I feel the daggers Sawyer shoots my way without having to see them. Great. An already uphill battle just got steeper.
“Amy, I said I’d probably see you here.” I unhook her arms and take a step back. “You know I’m spending the evening with my family.”
“We’re all family here, Wes. You know that.” She swats my chest playfully.
I clear my throat to stop myself from lashing out at my annoying new co-worker. “Sawyer, this is Amy. She works in the marketing department here. Amy, this is Sawyer. My…”
“Stepsister,” Sawyer interjects. I shoot her daggers of my own. I’ve always hated that term.
“Stepsister,” Amy gushes, extending her hand. “Wow. So nice to meet you. Wes, you didn’t tell me you have a stepsister,” she scolds.
“I’ve only worked here ten days, Amy.”
“Was he this private growing up?” Amy turns to Sawyer.
“Sawyer wouldn’t know,” I answer before she can say otherwise. “We didn’t grow up together.”
“Pity. I was hoping you could shed some light on my mysterious newco-worker.” She winks at me.
“I’m sure I could dig up a story or two.” The smirk she gives me makes my stomach drop.
“Amy, we’ll catch up with you inside. Sawyer and I haven’t seen each other in a while and we need a minute.” I dismiss her as politely as possible.
“Ooh, I get it. Families are complicated.”
I smile around gritted teeth. “Thanks for understanding.”
Amy pats my arm and saunters off. I take a deep breath to lower my blood pressure, which she’s developed a habit for raising in the few short days I’ve known her.
“Well, she seems nice,” Sawyer quips with false sweetness and a plastic smile to match. “Sure you want to keep your fan club waiting?”
“Dammit, Sawyer. Can you stop treating me like the asshole you know I’m not?”
“I don’t know you, Wes.” She says it so matter-of-factly I want to scream.
“Remember how upset you were when I said the same thing to you? I don’t care how long it’s been, Sawyer, you still know me better than anyone else.”
“I thought I did,” she says softly.
“You do,” I insist, stepping forward so I can grip her arms. “And like I said, time’s up. If you want to keep hiding from me after we talk, I can’t stop you, but we’re going to clear the air.”
Sawyer’s lips are pursed, fighting a retort. But in the end she gives a slight nod of agreement.
“Good. Now let’s go watch this ceremony.” I let my hand slide to her lower back so I can guide her toward the door, noting the way she shivers under my touch. And the way she increases her pace to avoid it. She may be fighting it, but there’s still something between us, and now we both know it.
When we reach the door, I pause before opening it.
