He takes a deep breath and relaxes. “Fuck, Val. I thought you were talking about Cade.” Shaking his head, he turns towards the door. “None of those assholes at Black Gulch are any good. You shouldn’t mix up with them.” He pauses, glancing at me with pain tightening his cheeks. “I thought you were different,” he whispers before stepping out into the cold.
I lock the door behind him, then lean against it until my head rests on the cool wood.
Everyone I know associated with that ranch might have an unconventional set of ethics, but they all try to do the right thing.
But I guess Eli can’t quite see that.
It doesn’t matter because I can.
And Sawyer is the best of them. I was just too fucking stubborn to accept it.
Chapter 31
Sawyer
The easiest way toignore her is to just leave my phone in my room.
Dad lines me out over breakfast, and it’s not like the wifi reaches much past farther than the walls of the house anyways.
I don’t even know what to say to her.
If I tell her the truth, it’ll just push her away.
I’m too fucking young for her.
And too damn inexperienced to be able to tell if this is just a crush or real.
As the cars start to pull in, the house gets fuller.
Louder.
Everyone is smiling and laughing for Thanksgiving.
Then there’s me wanting to crawl in a hole and hide.
I don’t think anyone even notices when I slip out to go to Scotty’s house. Maybe they expected me to leave?
My knuckles rap on the frosty door as my breath billows around my face.
When the dim porch bulb flicks on, it makes me squint as Mrs. Martin opens in surprise.
“Sawyer! I didn’t expect you? Scotty stayed up on campus.” Her green eyes remind me so much of Val, I can’t believe I didn’t see the resemblance before.
“I know. But I still wanted to bring this by.” I hold out the plastic bag filled with steaks and roasts, more than I’ve usually brought in the past.
“Oh, you’re so sweet. Please, come in?” She waves me into the warm house and sets the package on the counter.
“Don’t you have a houseful now?” Her gray hairs highlight her braid under the kitchen lights.
“Yea. There’s a lot of babies.” I glance around at the cozy living room.
The worn arms of the couch. The coffee table that has a piece of two by four bolted to it.
Heck, it’s been that way as long as I can remember.
This place has been like a second home to me forever.
But it feels a little empty now.
