Pulling out my phone, I send him a text.
Me: Can we talk?
Within seconds, I see the little three dots pop up indicating he’s writing something.
Then they disappear.
Reappear?
Again, nothing.
With a groan, I toss my cell on the coffee table.
It’s been ten minutes and no reply.
I deserve it.
I’ve ignored all of his attempts. Held him in place too firmly.
Everyone has their limits and I found his.
But is it really a bad thing that he has such a tender heart?
Dragging myself to bed, I stare at the ceiling and wish like hell he was here.
No, I’m not doing it.
Somehow I managed to survive Saturday night without Sawyer.
I haven’t heard a peep from him.
Understandable. I know he needs some time.
But now that I’m standing here looking in the mirror at my outfit for dinner with Eli, I don’t want to dress up.
It’s not a date.
That should belong to Sawyer.
“God, this sucks.” Tugging off the blouse, I dig out a hoodie from my closet and pull it over my head.
Baggy clothes, messy hair, no makeup.
Perfect.
This is just lunch between friends, nothing more.
Then why do I feel sick to my stomach?
My phone pings, making me rush to check.
Eli: I’m at the door?
After I read his text, I can hear the faint banging from downstairs.
Shit.
Swallowing my nerves, I rush to open the lock for him.
