SAWYER: I know things aren’t the same between us as they used to be, but I don’t know how to not worry about you. Please let me take care of you in some way.
SAWYER: It’s my fault you’re experiencing this.
It was definitely both of our faults.
But okay. Tacos, talk, and then the pharmacy. Let me know what time you’re coming.
SAWYER: I’ll be there at six.
Okay, then. A dinner not-date with my ex-boyfriend and father of my child, coming right up.
Couldn’t wait.
And, unfortunately, I meant that.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
ellie
LATER, I SAT ON the front porch as I waited for Sully. The sticky August air clung to my skin, making it hard to tell if the moisture beading the back of my neck was coming from me or the environment. Probably a bit of both—a combination of humidity and nerves.
I could sit inside to wait, but it was too weird having Sully knock on the front door like this wasn’t his home. So now I was here, circumventing that entire situation, at least for today.
When Sully pulled up in front of the house, I leaned back on my hands and studied the scene as he emerged from his jeep. Or, more specifically, I studied the stretch of his plain, short-sleeved shirt as it fit over his broad chest, a single pocket sewn into it over his heart. I also studied the way that same shirt was haphazardly half-tucked into his medium-washed jeans.
God, he’d always nailed the effortlessly sexy look, and that certainly hadn’t changed. My eyes wandered up to his longer hair and the damp ends. He’d probably rolled right out of the shower and shot straight over here. And now he was raking his hands through that blond hair, and once again, I was looking at the stretch of his shirt, only this time, it was over his bicepsand?—
“Hey, El.”
Fuck.
Sully stopped about halfway up the sidewalk, like he’d only just noticed me sitting there and was too afraid to get closer. He slid his hands in his pockets, rocking back on his feet. He shot his half-smile at me, and then it was official: I was sweating even more than I’d been before.
I’d always thought Sully was cute when we were kids, but we weren’t kids anymore. And while he still had that undeniable boyish charm that I suspected he’d forever possess, his sharp jawline, cocky smirk, and corded-muscled arms reminded me that he wasallman. And I’d be lying if I said he didn’t make my insides turn to liquid when he smiled at me.
“Hey!” I said, a little too brightly. “I was just…” I squinted at him, putting my hand above my eyes to act as a visor. “Soaking up some remaining summer sun.”
Sun that was absolutely frying me to death.
Sully pursed his lips. He looked from me to the porch I was sitting on, to the rosebushes on either side of the stairs, and I knew he was remembering moments in time when we’d been in this exact same position, but things had been so incredibly different.
“Are you wearing sunscreen?” he asked, dropping his gaze from my face.
I snorted. “Don’t worry, Sullivan. The baby—which is only the size of a pea, I might add—is not going to get sunburnt.”
His expression didn’t change, and I had to look away, my eyes wandering to the bag in his hand.
“Please tell me you got?—”
“Extra queso?” he cut in, cocking a brow. “Eleanor. Have some fucking faith in me.”
I grinned. “Ah, good. Maybe I will keep you around, then.”
I regretted the teasing words the moment they came out of my mouth because Sully clearly took them to heart, and his expression shuttered.
“You better keep me around,” he grunted, closing the distancebetween us on the walkway. “I’m good for a lot of things, El. For house maintenance, food delivery,and—”He stopped in front of me, bending slightly at the waist and lowering his face. “—in case you forgot how all this happened in the first place, darling, I’m especially good at making you beg for my?—”
“Sullivan,” I interrupted breathlessly. I’d tried to hold out, tried not to cut in, but I wasn’t sure I could handle hearing him say it. My body was already drenched in enough heat.
