He’s got me there.
Like hell am I sitting anything out.
“Tell ya what,” he says, bringing his cupped hands to his mouth to warm them. “Sawyer and I still need to talk, just the two of us. I also need to head out and see whether they’ve done a second pass on the roads. I plan to pick up a few provisions while I’m out. I’ll ask if she wants to go with me. We’ll be gone at least an hour, maybe two. Consider this your first attempt at playing nice with your new friend.”
A wall of panic nearly takes me out. “You’re leaving me with him?”
He smirks, shaking his head. “Let’s reframe it,” he suggests, his tone patronizing in a way that makes me want to lash out and reject what he says next, regardless of what it is. “I’m giving you an opportunity to find common ground. To see whether peace is possible.”
I shake my head and push off the banister, anger flooding me.
But before I can form a rebuttal, Noah grasps my shoulder. “We’ve got a lot riding on this. I believe in you, and I suspect Sawyer would tell you she believes in you, too. Don’t let us down.”
With that, my best friend turns and walks away.
Chapter thirty-four
Tytus
“Do you want to take a nap?” I ask as I follow Sawyer into the room.
Eden declared it was his room last night—weird flex for an adult with his own place to also keep a room at his friend’s house, but what do I know? From what I can tell, though, it’s true. The sad boy acoustic guitar propped up against the desk and old band posters peeling at the corners look like his vibe, and Sawyer seems to be familiar with the space.
She trails over to the bed and hops up to sit on the edge.
I follow. I don’t know whether I should give her solitude or offer support right now. I just know I want to be near her.
This is all new for us. We’ve never operated functionally. If we’re doing this—if I stand a chance in hell of proving myself worthy of this woman—I’ve got to figure this out.
The conversation in the kitchen was intense. Couldn’t say I expected to spill my guts and admit my darkest secret to the two men who, for all intents and purposes, are my direct competition when it comes to my girl.
But I did it. Surprisingly, I feel lighter, unexpected relief coursing through my veins.
There’s an exhaustion that comes with being hyper-aware and chronically unwell. I’m just so fucking tired of feeling like I have to keep everything in all the time. So maybe this is a good thing. Now that I’ve shared the story, maybe it’ll ease some of the constant weight I carry around.
“I’m exhausted.” Sawyer peers up at me through dark lashes. “I don’t think I could sleep, though.”
She yawns then, and I can’t help but reach out and wrap her up in a hug.
She doesn’t resist. In fact, she leans forward and gives me more of her weight, resting her arms low on my hips, no doubt trying to be careful with my torso.
I exhale a long, cleansing breath, then inhale her tart, sweet apple scent.
It feels so good to hold her.
“Ty,” she murmurs against my chest.
“Yeah, mon ange?”
“I’m sorry.”
I still, confusion swirling inside me.
I assumed I’d be the one apologizing. I shared our history without talking to her about it beforehand. And then there’s everything I did to her. The coercion. The sleepovers. Blackmailing her to go along with and play my twisted games. I have so much to apologize for.
“Last night wasn’t fair to you,” she explains, tipping her head back and resting her chin on my chest. “I was so out of my head. I clearly wasn’t thinking straight, and what happened in the back of Noah’s truck…”
She doesn’t finish that thought, instead searching my face with those warm brown eyes I love so much.
