Sawyer grins. “You’ll be asking to borrow my suits soon, won’t you?”
“Oh yeah!” Theo laughs and leans into Sawyer’s side for just a second—easy, unthinking. Sawyer doesn’t hesitate. He just rests a hand briefly on Theo’s shoulder like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
I catch it the second it happens.
David does too.
His gaze lingers—not sharp, not threatened. A barely-here father who, at this moment, is observant. Taking inventory. Reassessing.
“Well,” David says after a beat, checking his watch, “I should head out. I’ve got to get ready for a dinner interview tonight.”
“Another one?” I ask.
He shrugs. “Occupational hazard.”
Theo rolls his eyes. “He talks on his phone a lot.”
David huffs a laugh despite himself, then turns to Theo. “I’ll see you later, okay? Be good.”
“I always am,” Theo says solemnly.
He nods my way, then turns to Sawyer again. “Guess I’ll see you at the game.”
Sawyer meets his eyes easily. “Looking forward to it.”
There’s no edge in it. No competition. David gives a small nod, satisfied—or at least reassured.
The bell jingles as David leaves, the door swinging shut behind him.
Theo immediately relaxes, tugging at his blazer. “Can I take this off now?”
“Yes,” I say. “Please.”
Sawyer laughs softly and crouches again so he’s eye-level with him. “Still looks awesome, though.”
Theo beams like he’s just been knighted as Sawyer turns to me, eyebrow raised, a smile tugging at his mouth.
“You okay?” he asks softly.
I nod. “Yeah. I really am.”
And I mean it.
Because standing here—in my shop, with my kid nearby, my boundaries intact, and Sawyer still right beside me—I realize something important: I don’t need rescuing. I don’t think I ever did. A nudge, yes. A helping hand? For sure. But no one needed to save me.
Yet, I’m beginning to realize, I don’t mind the company at all.
CHAPTER 23
SAWYER
My suits are all judging me. That’s the only explanation.
They hang in neat, expensive rows in my closet—navy, charcoal, black—like a lineup of men who have never once had to sit in a VIP box pretending to be normal. Every one of them looks convinced this is the moment I’ll choose wrong.
It’s Friday night. No game tonight. Tomorrow is the game. The one that if we win, we go to playoffs. Tomorrow is also Theo’s birthday. Tomorrow is the VIP box, Juliette, her ex, and a kid I already care about more than makes sense for the amount of time I’ve known him.
I tug one suit halfway off its hanger, then stop.
