Gus was right.
I love her.
I wouldn’t have freaked out that way if it had been anyone else slow to surface. I would have been concerned, but I would have been coherent.
“It’s fine,” I say stiffly. “I overreacted.”
“No, you didn’t. I swear, if I’d known, I never would have?—”
“I have to go,” I say, turning and walking away.
She calls my name again, but I don’t stop. And I sure as hell don’t look back.
29
Nerves wriggle in my stomach as I knock on the wooden frame of the screen door. I run my tongue along the backs of my teeth, ears straining for any sound inside the house.
“One sec!” he calls.
I tuck a piece of hair behind my ear, then dry my damp palms on my jean shorts. It’s ridiculous that I’m this anxious to talk to him. That I’m this worried he’ll say no or not want to see me.
“He just needs some time,” was what Gus told me last night.
Cammie commented how important water safety was, as if I hadn’t already felt terrible enough about testing how long I could hold my breath. Aaron said he would have jumped in to rescue me if Cap hadn’t. Everyone else was just confused by Sawyer’s sudden disappearance.
A large shadow looms on the other side of the screen, and then the door swings open with a creak of protest. Sawyer is in the middle of pulling on a shirt, head through the hole but torso still bare. I’m treated to a tantalizing glimpse of his abs and the band of his boxer briefs beforethe white fabric falls. He’s propped the door open with his foot, and I wait for it to withdraw as soon as he registers it’s me. He made it pretty clear he didn’t want to talk to me last night, and Gus probably meant more than twelve hours when he said that Sawyer needed time.
The door remains open.
“Hey,” he says carefully, resting a shoulder against the doorway. His expression isn’t unfriendly, but he’s not inviting me inside either.
“Hey,” I reply. “Bad time? Are you busy?”
He shakes his head. “I have the day off.”
I nod. “I know. I swapped shifts with Abby, and I was wondering …” Deep breath. “Do you want to go sailing?”
His eyebrows inch up his forehead. He’s surprised, but I can’t gauge anything else. “Sailing?”
“Yeah. I rented a boat.”
“You rented a boat.”
“You can stop repeating everything I say.”
He crosses his arms, one corner of his mouth kicking up. “Do you know how to sail?”
“Nope.”
“So, you want me to sail you around … for free?”
I roll my eyes. “I brought lunch. I checked with my cousin who sails, and Kit assured me it’s a really nice boat. And I’ll give you a blow job in the below-deck-cabin thingy, if you want.”
He coughs, quickly glancing over his shoulder.
A pit appears in my stomach. Does he have a girl over?
“No worries. Never mind.” I’m doing an awful job of hiding my disappointment, so I offer a small wave, then spin and start walking away, silently cursing my own idiocy.
