“Things are over between me and Hannah. I don't want her back. You know that, right?” Hannah had wanted to get under Sawyer's skin. Just like she’d worn the damn ring I’d bought her to get under mine.
Sawyer glances my way, nods once and goes back to staring out the window. I can’t stand the careful, icy indifference. I want her fire and her anger. I don’t mind if I get a little singed around the edges, but I can’t abide her freezing me out the way she is.
Ipull into her drive, and she still hasn’t said more than two words to me the whole damn ride. I wasn’t leaving until we had a fuckingconversation about this. We were adults, for Christ’s sake. I wouldn’t let this fester and ruin everything between us. This wouldn’t be the last thing she remembered about me when I left.
“God damn it, Red. Talk to me,” I say as I turn the car off. “I know you’re mad, but for the life of me, I can’t figure out if you’re pissed at me or at Hannah or at the whole damn situation.”
“Why do you care what I’m pissed about?” she mutters before climbing out of the car.
I release a relieved breath since she's finally speaking in more than one-word sentences. I follow her to the front door. “Because I want to know what to apologize for.”
“An apology isn’t going to make it all better, Wes.” She drops her heels by the door and turns on the lights before making her way to her bedroom.
“I know. I—” I make to follow her into the bedroom, but she halts me with a raised hand and slams the door in my face.
I can’t help but smirk at the closed door. At least she’s talking to me. I can handle a bit of temper thrown my way.
I wait by her door patiently, stripping off my suit jacket and button-down, laying them on the couch. A minute later she comes out changed to do night check.
“I had no idea Hannah would be there,” I say, continuing our conversation. “If I’d known my mom invited her, I wouldn’t have brought you.”
She whirls around, pinning me with a glare. Fire burns bright and wild behind those blue eyes, and I cringe as I replay my words.
Why do I have such a propensity to say the wrong thing?
“That came out wrong. It’s not what I meant.” I backtrack before she can kick me out.
“Oh, really?” She pushes past me, slipping into her boots and storming outside as the screen door slams in her wake.
I follow her outside. “Yes, really. I meant neither of us would have gone had I known she would be there.”
“Right. Because then you wouldn’t have had to explain me away to your ex-fiancée. You could’ve come back in another week, free and clear, and walked right back into Hannah’s arms. Too bad for you, she won’t buy the whole 'I spent the last few weeks pining away alone'story now that you brought a date to your mom’s party.” She fills water buckets as she speaks, never once slowing down or sparing me a glance.
Exasperation builds in my chest. “I’m done with Hannah. I don’t care about her.” I toss hay into the feeders despite my lack of work clothes. The cold air seeps through my undershirt, but the best way to keep warm is to keep working.
“For someone whodoesn’t careabout her, you sure spent plenty of time talking to her alone while I was left at your mom’s party by myself.”
“I left you with my sister,” I point out, attempting a lighter tone.
“That is so beside the point, Wes,” she growls. “The point is, you still have feelings for your ex.”
Heat creeps down my spine. “No, I don’t.”
“Don’t fucking lie to me, Wes.”
I had expected Sawyer to take me at my word when I said I was done with Hannah, but apparently, she thought I was a damn liar.
I might be an idiot, leaving my date at my mom’s party while I walked my drunk ex out so she wouldn’t cause a scene, but I wasnota liar. And the fact that Sawyer believed otherwise? That pissed me off.
“Why else would you walk her out and talk to her for twenty minutes after promising me you wouldn’t leave my side all night?” she demands, pushing past me into the tack room.
I follow her in, leaning against the wall of saddles as she sorts through supplies on the table. Bridles hang in a neat row behind it, and her movements are sharp and agitated.
The question isn’t rhetorical, so I start to answer, “Because I—”
But Sawyer wheels around and cuts me off mid sentence, pinning me with that fiery glare.
“If things aren’t finished between you two, I get it. I know it’s hard to be done when you’ve been with someone for a long time, but don’t lie to me about it. I’m a big girl. I can handle it if the guy I’ve been fucking is in love with somebody else.”
