Sawyer Says Read online

  I gulp as I nod, unable to find an adequate response for the hundredth time today. He pulls hard on my legs, pulling me into his lap as my hands rise to grip his shoulders. He stands, taking me with him. He steps out of his boots before carrying me upstairs. His mouth hovers in front of mine, but we don’t kiss. Instead, our eyes stay locked in some sort of sensual staring contest. I don’t know why, but I won’t blink first, not now.

  He sets me down on the edge of the bed and slowly peels my clothes off. As each layer is removed, I feel warmth instead of the chill I should. He’s slow, methodical in his movements. It takes me a moment to grasp what’s different. This isn’t just sex. The expression in his eyes confirms it. His gentle touch erases any doubt.

  Jared is about to make love to me.

  I scoot back further onto the bed and watch as he slowly undresses. He climbs onto the bed and crawls up my body. He lies down next to me, turning me onto my side so that I’m facing him. He reaches up and strokes my cheek before leaning in and capturing my lips. I melt into his arms as the space between us disappears.

  He’s hard. I can feel the length of him pressing against me. I don’t understand why he hasn’t pushed himself inside me yet.

  I reach for him, but he pushes my hand away.

  “I’m not done kissing you,” he explains against my lips.

  “I can multitask,” I argue, reaching for him again.

  He leans back, away from me. “I know what you’re trying to do, and it’s not going to happen.”

  “What am I trying to do?” I ask, confused.

  His hand moves to my shoulder, gently pushing me until I’m on my back. He answers me as he kisses, licks, and nips his way from my neck to my shoulder.

  Softly, he reaches up to trace the outline of my phoenix tattoo, slowly following his fingertip with gentle kisses. He’s marking me, on top of my ink. I had gotten this tattoo so long ago to symbolize rebirth, shedding my past to embrace my future. Here I was smack dab in the middle of my past with the man who clearly wanted my future.

  He moves lower, his lips now teasing my pint-sized breasts. I can’t ignore the phantom throb beating from each inch of skin he’s touched.

  “I know you like it hard and fast, but,” he pauses to suck my nipple into his mouth, twirling his tongue around it before releasing, “have you ever let someone take their time with you?”

  Never. It scares me. It feels like I’m losing control.

  His hazel eyes seem to see right through me when he adds, “Just let me love you.”

  Before I can even think it through, I nod, and he continues lavishing attention to every single part of my body. What is so different about him? All thoughts evaporate as my body relishes his every touch. He continues to push my hands away when I try to touch him. He is in complete control of me. At first, it annoys me. I like being sexually aggressive. I’m most comfortable when I’m in the lead. I trust Jared, though, so I relax, allowing myself to just be.

  He’s relentless in his goal of pleasing me. As liberated as I am sexually, I always shied away from receiving oral sex. It just feels too intimate, someone’s mouth directly on my sex. I cry out as my body quakes under his ministrations.

  I’ve already come, but he continues, licking, flicking, and nipping at my already sensitive clit. His fingers gently twist inside me until my eyes roll back into my head again. I’ve balled the comforter up in each of my hands. I lift my head to look down at him as I pant. He looks up at me, and his expression terrifies me. It’s a look of complete adoration. It’s love. What scares me is I know I can’t return it.

  He slowly crawls up my body. I feel weighted, as though the signals from my brain to my limbs aren’t firing, as they should. His lips on mine reawaken my slumbering limbs, and I lift my arms to wrap them around his neck. His cock slips into me. I’m too preoccupied by the delicious fullness of him that it takes me a moment to realize he never put on a condom.

  This is the first time there is truly nothing between us. I pinch my eyes shut, as I will myself not to be affected. This doesn’t change anything, even if it means more to Jared than it does to me. This is just sex.

  He stills. “Sawyer?”

  “Yes,” I answer, my eyes still closed.

  He settles down onto me, his hand coming up to cup my face. “Look at me.”

  His weight on me feels amazing, but his request unnerves me. “No.”

  His breath catches and whooshes back out as he asks. “Why won’t you look at me?”

  I turn my face into one of his hands. “I can’t.”

  His breath is hot on my cheek as he leans down to kiss my cheek. I feel tears I don’t understand behind my lids. Then he’s gone, his weight, his fullness inside of me. He’s pulled out, and now he’s sitting just out of reach at the end of the bed, his head in his hands.

  I peer at him for a moment, my gut twisting before crawling over to him.

  He flinches when my fingertips graze his back. Before I can pull my hand away, he reaches for my hand and kisses it.

  “Jared.” I want to crawl into his lap, feel his arms around me.

  Instead, he stands and avoids my eyes. “I think I should go home.”

  My mouth drops. “Because I wouldn’t look at you?”

  He shakes his head and turns to face me.

  “I thought I could handle loving you even if you don’t love me back.” He traces the side of my face with his hand, his eyes dull, their usual spark extinguished.

  “But I don’t want you to go,” I plead.

  He swallows. “We don’t always get what we want.”

  He doesn’t say it with anger or malice but with regret and longing.

  He pulls his clothes back on, and quietly leaves the room, as he lets me know he’ll be on the computer downstairs checking flights. I get dressed, feeling emptier than I remember ever feeling before. Instead of going downstairs, I curl up in a ball on my bed and feel sorry for myself instead. Most girls would think I’m crazy. They would think Jared is a catch, and he is. He also deserves someone who can actually love him back. It just isn’t me.

  I get up when I hear my cell phone buzz. It’s in the pocket of my jeans but must have fallen out and onto the floor while they were either coming off or being pulled back on. It’s Sarah.

  I lay back down, phone tucked under my ear. “Hey, babe,” I fake happy.

  “Oh honey, what’s wrong?” she immediately asks, proving I fail at faking anything.

  “Jared told me he loves me.” I blink away inexplicable tears.

  “Shouldn’t that be a good thing?” she replies quietly.

  “I don’t love him,” I argue, even though the words feel wrong.

  “Are you sure about that?” she counters.

  I get up and start pacing. “Yes, I’m sure.” Am I, though? Am I one hundred percent certain I don’t feel that way about him?

  “If you say so,” her singsong acquiesce stings. She goes on, “What happened after he told you?”

  I pause by the window and lean my forehead against the pane. “He told me that he knew I didn’t love him back, but he was okay with that.”

  “And?” she encourages me to go on after a long pause.

  “He carried me upstairs and asked me to let him love me.” I gulp when I hear her gasp on the other end.

  “I tried, but I couldn’t look at him, and he stopped and said it would be better if he went home.” I wipe away a tear, not knowing why I’m crying.

  “He’s going back to Denver?”

  I sniffle. “He’s downstairs checking flights right now.”

  “Oh, honey.” I hear her sigh.

  “I’m fine,” I lie. “I am.”

  “Do you want me to come up?”

  I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Don’t come up. I’m a big girl. I can handle this.”

  “I’m not saying you can’t handle it.” I can hear her frustration through the phone. “I’m just saying you’re my best friend, and I love you and want to be
there for you.”

  I look toward the door when I hear Jared clear his throat. He looks past me.

  “Can I call you back?” I ask Sarah and hang up after she says okay.

  Jared scratches the back of his head and looks away. “Would it be too weird to ask you for a ride to the airport? I can take a—”

  I cut him off, “Please don’t go.”

  He slowly crosses the room, pulls me tightly against him, and kisses the top of my head. “We both know I can’t stay.”

  I bury my face in his chest and inhale. “That’s not true.”

  “I just need some time to think about things. Being here with you will just be too hard. The last thing I want to do is lose you as a friend.”

  I look up at him. “You could never lose me.”

  He brushes some hair away from my eyes and smiles sadly down at me. Little crinkles tug the sides of his eyes. “You say that now.”

  I turn my head back toward the window and press my cheek to his chest. “I can’t change your mind?”

  “I need to go,” he sighs.

  I stiffen in his grasp, and he releases me, taking a step back. “How soon?”

  He looks up at the ceiling. “I should pack now. Maybe in thirty minutes.”

  “That soon?” The hurt is evident in my voice. I had hoped he would at least stay the night.

  “It was the only flight I could transfer my seat to,” he explains.

  I push past him. “I’ll wait for you downstairs.”

  I don’t hear his mumbled response as I hurry down the steps. I make it to the kitchen and use the countertop to hold myself up. What the hell just happened? It’s like I’m losing my oldest and dearest friend.

  I drink some water in an attempt to keep my throat from closing up. I feel betrayed. He asked me to let him love me, but when I can’t immediately respond, he leaves me. My pain morphs into anger as he packs. When I hear the clump of his boots hitting the ground floor, I charge him.

  “This whole thing is bullshit. You know that. That was real nice, Jar, asking me to open up and let you love me. Awesome that you loving me means you’ll ditch me the second I do something you don’t like.”

  His eyes widen, and he drops his duffle bag. “That’s not fair.”

  “Fair?” I grumble. “You gave me all of five minutes to wrap my brain around the fact that you claim to love me.” I point to his bag. “This doesn’t fucking feel like love.”

  I’m not a person who shouts. I don’t believe you need to yell to get your point across. Besides, it gives me a sore throat. Instead, I continue my rant in my normal volume. It unnerves Jared. I watch him rub his hands together before he just sinks to the steps behind him.

  His eyes look haunted when they look up into mine. “I feel like an asshole leaving, but can’t you see this is self-preservation?”

  His question stops me cold. “What do you mean?”

  He motions for me to come over to him, and against my better judgment, I do. I’m in his lap with his arms around me. It’s so hard not to melt into him, but I’m angry so I deny myself that satisfaction.

  “I fucked everything up, haven’t I?” he says after some time.

  “Only if you leave,” I whisper.

  “I’m scared to stay,” he replies.

  I feel like I’m talking sense into him, so I brush my lips across his neck and feel solace in the way he shivers at my touch.

  I lift my hand to his chin and turn his face to mine. “I’ll try if you stay.”

  I’m not even sure what I’m saying. I just don’t want him to go.

  “Okay.” There is defeat in his reply.

  It makes me wonder if I’m being selfish in asking him to stay.

  I’m never going to recover from her. She’s going to chew me up and spit me out, and I’ll be done. Why the fuck did I tell her I love her? I knew. I knew I couldn’t push her, but I did it anyway. I felt like I was lying not saying it out loud. That every moment I wasn’t telling her I loved her, I was betraying her.

  I hold her until she stiffens, and then I drop my arms and let her go. If you love something…fuck. Is leaving the right thing to do? Or is staying going to be the thing that ruins this crazy thing we have going? She stands and steps away from me. Minutes go by before I get up. I make myself go somewhere in the house she isn’t.

  I go to our room and pull out my phone. I come close to calling my mom, but I don’t want to worry her. It’s just that seeing those baby clothes is still fucking with my head.

  Would my baby have been a boy or girl? We never made it far enough into the pregnancy to find out. We buried Baby Keller. Now the word baby has morphed into the name of my child that never lived long enough for me to meet. Is there a heaven and if there is, will my baby have lived long enough here on earth for me to meet him or her there?

  Did my baby die because I wasn’t in love with Kristy but trying to be? I drag my hand over my face and wipe the tears from my eyes. I haven’t even thought about the baby, my baby, in months.

  I press her name without even thinking. “Hey, Kristy.”

  I can hear the surprise in her voice. “Jared, is everything okay?”

  She’s a nice girl. We were so wrong for each other but she is still a good person. “I came across some baby things, and it made me think about stuff.”

  “Oh, Jared, I’m so sorry. Do you want to talk about it?”

  That’s something that always drove me crazy about her. She always apologized for things, stuff that wasn’t her fault. Why do girls do that? Why apologize for something you didn’t do?

  “It just hit me hard,” I admit.

  “I know what you mean. Sometimes that happens to me too. One second I’m fine, the next I’m crying.”

  “That’s pretty much what happened.”

  “Oh, honey. Do you want me to come over?”

  Shit. No. “I’m in New Hampshire. I should probably go.”

  “Okay, well, if you want to get together when you’re back in town, just give me a call, okay?”

  “Thanks. I’m not sure when I’ll be back. I’ll talk to you later.”

  I’m pretty sure my ex-wife just hit on me.

  Over the next two days, we finish sorting through my father’s room, the attic, and all of the rooms on the second floor. A moving van comes on the second day to pick up the dining room set for Sarah and Will. Jared and I are okay. We haven’t had sex since I asked him to stay, but he is sleeping in my room at night. I’ve never been a cuddler before, but I seem to have no problem falling asleep in his arms each night.

  When I wake the third morning, I notice I’m alone. Usually, I wake up before Jared. The bed feels cold without him. I roll over into his spot and lie on his pillow for a moment. I’ve become addicted to the way he smells. I get up after a couple minutes and go in search of him. He’s in the kitchen, drinking a cup of tea.

  “Can I make you a cup?” he asks when I walk into the room.

  “Sure.” I follow him to the stove and lean against him as he turns the burner on under the kettle.

  We stay there and wait for the shrill cry of the kettle. Jared already has a mug set out for me. I guess I’m predictable that way. He adds water to my mug, and I move around him to add a teabag and some honey to it and stir it. I sit on the counter and take small sips of my tea while Jared moves to grab his mug and lean against the counter across from me.

  “What’s the plan for today?” he asks after finishing his.

  “There isn’t much left. I guess we hit my grandmother’s room first and then maybe the living room.”

  “I’m going to grab a shower first.” He rinses his mug and loads it into the dishwasher.

  “Did you already eat?” I slide off the counter and grab myself a package of mini muffins.

  He pauses to kiss the top of my head. “I did.” Then he’s gone.

  I eat my muffins and finish my tea. I toy with the idea of joining him in the shower but I’m scared to make the first move. I’m j
ust relieved he stayed and that he isn’t being weird.

  I wait until I hear the water cut off before I head upstairs to take my shower. Jared’s standing in the bathroom, brushing his teeth, his towel wrapped precariously low around his waist. I feel pulled to him by a force I can’t control. I stand behind him and kiss away lingering drops of water from his back. He stills, but I continue, my hands resting on his waist. He leans over to rinse his mouth before turning to face me.

  Gentle hands cup my cheek as he lowers his minty lips to mine.

  “I missed kissing you,” I admit.

  “I wouldn’t have stopped you.” He rests his head on top of mine.

  My cheek scales The Rockies as I snuggle closer to him. “I came up to take a shower.”

  “If you were faster, you could have joined me in mine.”

  “I was trying to give you space.” What I don’t say is I was waiting for him to come to me.

  “How’d that work out for you?” he asks, tightening his arms around me.

  “I failed miserably.” I turn my face to kiss his skin again.

  He leans back to look down at me. “Don’t think about it that way. Nothing that feels this right can be a failure.”

  “I can’t argue that.”

  He cups my cheek with one hand as his mouth covers mine. His other hand grips me tightly to him. I mentally pause for a moment to wish I had at least brushed my teeth or showered. It doesn’t stop me, though, not when Jared’s urgent lips are on mine. He loves me, wants me any way I come. Knowing that still scares me. I feel responsible for his heart. No part of me wants to hurt him.

  I have never wanted to love someone more in my life. I just don’t know how. The responsibility of it, knowing he loves me, I have to be careful. This is brand new for me. Pushing love away is so instinctive for me, I worry I might even hurt him without being conscious I’m doing it.

  It’s impossible to be sensible when his lips and hands are on me. Ignoring my fears for now, I dive headfirst into the bliss he offers me. His towel is no match for the way our bodies move against each other. I giggle against his lips when it finally falls, leaving him naked and me still in my pajamas. He turns, lifts me onto the sink and moves his hands under my shirt. I lift my arms and break our kiss only long enough for the material to pass between us.