“You two sure bicker like a married couple,” Hazel says, stirring her water with the straw.
Knox snorts. “No way in hell. Shoulda seen ‘em the first night they met. Thought Sawyer was gonna take his head off.”
“Still might,” Sawyer says, but she’s smiling for real this time.
“So,” Rogue says, finally changing the topic, “you think the Kennedys are actually gonna show up with our shit?”
“They’ll show. They know Danger don’t mess around,” Charming responds.
Knox leans in. “Did I miss something, or…?”
“Yeah,” I say, keeping my voice just above a whisper. “Danger gave ‘em an ultimatum: bring us all our shit, or he'll deal with them himself. So. We’ll see how they play it.”
“Always somethin’ with them,” Knox mutters. He finishes his whiskey in one pull, then stands up and stretches. “Alright. It’s been fun, but I’m gonna call it a night.”
He leaves, and Hazel follows him, pausing just long enough to wave us all goodbye.
Rogue and Charming make their way out, too, each with a new girl clinging to their arms like they’re some rodeo royalty. Rogue doesn’t say a word—just shoots me a grin and flicks me the middle finger. Charming winks for good measure.
And just like that, it’s me and Sawyer. Alone. Again.
“You’re gonna ruin me if you keep looking at me like that,” I say, voice so low I’m not sure she hears.
Sawyer grins, a slow-motion detonation. “You’re already ruined.”
“Ain’t that the truth.”
She reaches for my hand.
“Come with me,” she says, sweet and certain.
And hell, if she doesn’t know it yet, I could never say no to her.
She pulls me onto the dance floor, laughing, the kind that dares me to follow her. I grab her hand and spin her, and her blonde hair whips around like a flash of gold under the neon lights. The music swells, loud enough to drown out doubt, soft enough for her laugh to rise over the top.
I lean in, my mouth near her ear. “You’re makin’ it real hard not to kiss you right now.”
She grins, breathless. “Then do it.”
Each smile, each turn, I fall a little more—for a girl just passing through. Someone I was never supposed to want—but I do. In the worst, deepest way.
She moves like the rhythm was made for her, like this night was always meant to be hers. Maybe even like she was meant to be in my arms. And for a moment, I let go of the rules, the warnings, the way I know this ends. I let myself just have this.
She spins, golden and untouchable, and I know—this won’t last. She’s not really mine. The music knows it. Hell, so do I. But I can’t stop reaching for her anyway. And maybe that’s what ruins me—knowing that after this, after her, nothing will ever feel the same again.
thirty-one
Sawyer
“I just need rough numbers, okay?” I pace the gravel drive on my daddy's property, phone tucked between my shoulder and cheek. “If we get the egg shed up—self-serve, honesty system, maybe a payment sign—and get Daddy’s lower field running again, what could he bring in per month? Ballpark it.”
The silence on the other end makes me glance toward the chicken coop like it’s going to answer instead. “He’s not leaving this land,” I add, softer. “So I’ve got to make it work. Enough for him to live on, plus some to stash away for upkeep.”
I stop walking, thumb hovering over the home screen. A notification buzzes. It’s from Harrison’s sister, the only member of the Windsor family who has always been kind to me. One of the only close friends I have in Chicago. I think she’s the one who should actually be running that company.
Graycen
Are you coming back this week?
