Fuck, I cringe. When did I turn into a bad poet?
As if on cue, her black almond eyes find mine, her smile dimming as if the sight of me has soured her mood.
My face falls. I really pissed her off.
It's completely understandable. I've been nothing but a jerk to her after that kiss. Avoiding her, acting like the kiss had been nothing but a mistake when it was anything but. My pathetic half-ass apology in Government yesterday didn't help, either.
"I'm sorry. I acted like an asshole after you kissed me."
The memory has me wincing inwardly. I'm a complete jackass. It wouldn't surprise me if she decided to turn the tables around and refuse to talk to me. I wouldn't blame her a damn bit.
I knew getting close to her was a bad idea. She's a complication I shouldn't want. A distraction I couldn't afford to have.
Yet, here I am—wanting and needing her just the same—my want and need for her growing each day. I'm no longer able to keep myself away from her. Even though I shouldn’t allow this thing between us to go anywhere, I just can’t go back to the way things were. I can’t go back to ignoring her. Hell, I’ve tried...and failed.
And now, I’m thinking of ways to get back into her good graces. A proper apology, for starters.
Sawyer's gaze drifts in my direction once again, as if she simply can't help herself.
A pleased smile tugs at my lips.
She responds with a scowl.
Yeah. A proper apology is in order.
I sit still until lunch break ends, watching Sawyer and her friends head out the door before moving up to my feet and stalking after them. Why wait for the school hours to end when I can do it now?
"Sawyer."
She halts her steps, her shoulders stiff as she whirls around to face me.
Quinn and Brayden do the same, their curious eyes bouncing between the two of us.
Sawyer holds my gaze, her beautiful features remaining unreadable. She's going to make me work for it.
Give it to me, Peaches.
I clear my throat. "Can we talk?"
She stares at me for a beat, then, "Okay." But she doesn't move an inch from her spot.
"What's the hold-up?" Giovanni's voice rings out from behind me, and I don't have to look over my shoulder to know that Bennett and Jamie are with him, too.
Sawyer's brow arches up, as if she's challenging me to speak up in front of our audience.
My jaw ticks. I'm not happy about it, but if that's what she wants, then I'll do it. "I'm sorry, I've been a complete ass."
She blinks at me.
Quinn's and Brayden's jaws drop to the floor.
Behind me, I hear someone let out a chuckle before covering it with a fake cough.
I want nothing more than to glare at everyone and tell them to fuck off. And I'd do it too, if I didn't think that it wouldn't do me any good. Sawyer's not happy with me as it is. Acting like a grumpy ass will just piss her off even more.
"Are we good now?" I feel my ears reddening from embarrassment but I still keep my eyes on her, waiting for her reaction, waiting to see that beautiful smile directed at me again.
Sawyer stares at me for a long moment, then, "No."
I blink at her. "What?"
But she's already walking away as if she didn't hear me, causing her friends to shoot wide-eyed glances at me before going after her.
Meanwhile I'm left rooted to my spot, completely dumbfounded. What the hell just happened?
"Damn. That was harsh," Bennett whistles.
I don't say anything, my eyes trailing after Sawyer. Now, what?
CHAPTER 20
Sawyer
"What is Romania!"
I jump in my seat, almost sending my laptop falling from my lap.
Dad is shouting Jeopardy! questions at the TV again. I should have known this would happen when he sat on the couch and commanded the remote control.
Huffing out a sigh, I close my laptop and hop up to my feet. There won't be any writing done if I stay here. Tucking it under my arm, I walk past Duke who's staring up at Dad with his head tilted and ears perked up—probably wondering if there's something wrong with him. And climb upstairs to my room.
I need to get some writing done, but I don't feel like working within the confines of my room. I need a different environment to get my creative juices flowing. Which is why I went down to the living room in the first place. But then, Dad showed up and it ended being a bust.
Coffee shop, it is. I'd managed to do some writing there a few times, anyway.
Walking into my closet, I reach for a green shirt romper and change into it. My hair is gathered in a slightly messy bun on top of my head, but it doesn't look so bad so I decide against redoing it. Not even bothering with makeup, I put my wallet and phone inside my laptop bag, then step into my black flats before grabbing my car keys and heading back downstairs.
"Going somewhere, kid?" Dad cranes his neck around to look at me when I reach the living room to say goodbye.
"Yeah. I'm in the mood for some frappé. Want me to buy you anything?"
"No. I'm good."
"Okay. See you later then." I lean down to kiss his cheek before he can yell another Jeopardy! question.
"Don't stay out too late," he calls after me.
"I won't."
There's no reason for me to stay out late, anyway. I don't have any plans with Quinn and Brayden today. And I'm certainly not going over to Parker's house—the very reason why I'd stayed out until the following morning last time. It's not going to happen again any time soon. Probably ever.
Even though he did try to talk to me the past few days. To apologize, I guess. But I was still too pissed to forgive him. So I made sure to tell him no whenever he tried—to his bewilderment and great amusement of his friends. Bennett even commented that nobody had ever dared to say no to Parker. That I was the exception.
Like it was an achievement or something.
No. I'm not going to think about Parker right now. He already spends a lot of time inside my head. Not today. I have to focus on my short stories to build my portfolio.
The thing is, I've already finished several stories. I can use them if I want to. But I've eventually decided to write under a single theme—romance—which happens to be my favorite genre, so I have a long way to go to get them done.
Not that I'm complaining. Writing has always been therapeutic for me. And some of the best times I ever had were spent in front of my laptop. I guess being a writer is really in my blood.
Sipping the last of my chocolate chip frappé, I put my laptop back into my bag. I just finished proofreading what I'd written the last couple hours, and I'm now getting ready to leave. But before I can do that, a tall figure stops next to my table.
"Heading out already?"
I freeze at the familiar voice. What is he doing here? With a mask in place, I glance up. "Actually, yes."
"Stay." When I just stare at him blankly, Liam pleads, "Please. I just want to talk to you." Before I can say no, he pulls up a chair across the table and settles in.
"Fine, I'll give you five minutes." I sigh and sit back down. "What do you want to talk about?"
I really don't want to do this. I don't see any more reason to talk to him. But if having this conversation will finally make him realize that we're truly over, then I'll give him time.
"I want you to know that I'm not pissed at you for punching me. Even though I'm still sporting the evidence," he jokes.
The bruise is barely there anymore, but I still wince. "Yeah, that was a mistake. I shouldn't have punched you. I got carried away. I'm sorry."
Although it initially felt good, it didn't last long. Guilt had settled after the euphoria faded. I'd been tempted to apologize since, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it.
So I guess, in a way, it's good that Liam decided to talk to me.
"Because I was antagonizing Parker."
I open my mouth then close it again. As much as I want to deny it,
he's right. It was the reason why I punched him. Nothing else.
"It still didn't make it right."
"No, it didn't. But I was out of line for bringing up his family issues. I completely deserved that suckerpunch."
"That's exactly what baffles me, Liam. How could you hurt and betray him knowing what he was going through?" I accuse.
Shame washes over his features, and he hangs his head. "I know. What I did to him was really shitty. I was, I don't know, jealous? Because even though things were miserable at home for him, he still didn't look like it. He was still pretty put-together. He still acted like he was living a perfect life. Like nothing bothered him."
"You were feeling insecure."
He nods reluctantly.
I guessed as much. He always hates that everyone sees Parker as more superior than him. And even though Parker tends to be aloof and standoffish, for some reason, they still like him better. I guess it also hurts that girls seem to prefer Jamie, Bennett and Giovanni over him. That they find the other guys "more fun" to be around with.
I don't have to be in his shoes to know that it sucks. But it still doesn't excuse his behavior. Parker can be a jerk sometimes, but it's not like he goes out of his way to make people feel that way toward Liam.
"I didn't see it before. But I see it now. And I deeply regret my past actions." He gives me an earnest look, as if to plead for me to believe him.
"If you regret what you did, why are you still with Peyton?"
"I'm not. I already broke things off with her weeks ago. She just doesn't know how to let go."
I snort, skeptical yet a part of me wants to believe him, considering she's still harboring irrational grudge toward me.
"Sawyer, I swear it. You have to believe me."
I'm not going to respond to that. But there's one thing I need him to clarify. What Peyton told me about them.
"When did you and Peyton start hooking up? From the very beginning."
With a sigh and a shake of his head, he relents. "A few months before we started dating."
So Peyton has been telling the truth. "He was mine first."
"What happened?" I ask, curious not jealous. Not even a smidgeon.
"I wanted it to be more than just a hookup. For her to be my girlfriend. But we weren't on the same page. She wasn't ready to be serious, so we stopped hooking up. And then you happened."
I can't take the earnestness and longing in his gaze so I shift my eyes and look down.
"At first, she wasn't bothered. She thought it was just a fling. But then, months passed and we hadn't broken up. That was when she demanded I dump you."
I clench my fists. The whole time Peyton had been gushing about being happy for me was a complete lie. I had a feeling it was the case after Liam cheated, but hearing the confirmation from him still hurts. She was never my best friend.
"And when you didn't, Peyton thought she'd make you jealous by being with Parker."
"Yeah," he admits. "Looking back on it, I think it was also Parker's way of getting back at me for going after you."
I snap my eyes up. "W-What do you mean?"
"Parker—he's always wanted you. He had plans of asking you out, you know? But then I realized I liked you, too. So I beat him to it."
My heart thuds hard inside my chest. Parker has always wanted me? He was supposed to ask me out? Is it even true?
He kissed you, remember?
But he also avoided me afterwards, causing me to think that he regretted kissing me.
God, this is all so confusing.
Later. I'd think about it later.
"Why am I even telling you this? You probably already know. You did say he kissed you, after all." There's bitterness in Liam's voice.
"Liam—"
He reaches across the table and takes hold of my hands. "But I don't care about that." He winces and shakes his head. "Okay, that's a lie. I care. A lot. But I'm willing to forget it. I can pretend it didn't happen. Just forgive me and give me another chance. Be with me again."
I stare at the guy sitting across from me. My first kiss. My first love. My first heartache. I stare at him and feel...nothing.
No lingering feelings. No sadness. No resentment. Just plain nothing. All that I ever felt for him when we were together are now gone. I've truly moved on.
"I forgive you." When his face brightens, I quickly add, "But I'll never take you back."
"But you said—"
"Not because I'm still angry. I'm not. Not anymore. But because I'm over you, Liam. I no longer feel anything for you. You and I—we're done."
His shoulders slumps, defeat mingling with reluctant acceptance swimming in his eyes. "There's really no changing your mind, is there?"
"I'm sorry," I say softly.
A sad smile flits on his lips. "Don't be. It's all my fault." Leaning forward in his seat, he plants a kiss on the side of my head. Then he's standing up and walking away.
And I know, with certainty, Liam will never try to win me back again.
CHAPTER 21
Sawyer
Drawing in a deep breath, I reach out and ring the doorbell, nervous anticipation coursing through my veins.
"He's always wanted you."
Liam's words have spurred me on to make a quick stop before I head home. I need to know the truth. And what better way to find it than confront Parker.
I won't give him the chance to avoid me this time. I need answers and he'll give them to me.
Only I'm not prepared when the huge double mahogany door finally opens, revealing Parker with a bed head and sleepy eyes. He's wearing nothing but a pair of pajama bottoms under his open bathrobe.
I swallow hard, my mouth going dry.
Before I can stop them, my eyes are already drifting to his exposed chest down to his toned abs and the thin trail of light hair going down his—
"Peaches."
Parker's husky voice sends heat crawling up my neck and cheeks. But not from embarrassment. For an entirely different reason.
Me and Parker. Tangled sheets. Sweaty bodies. Low moans…
Get your head out of the gutter!
I shake my head and clear my throat before I start really embarrassing myself. "Parker."
"What are you doing here?"
"Um, I came to—" I blink a few times. Why am I here again? You want to jump his bones. "No!"
Parker cocks an eyebrow. "No?"
"You confuse me, you know that?" I huff out.
Looking amused, he folds his arms over his broad chest. "I confuse you? I'm not the one talking in riddles right now, Peaches."
I point a finger at him. "Don't call me that. When you call me that, I feel things."
Things that I shouldn't feel. Not for you. And not so soon after Liam.
"What kind of things?" he asks softly, taking a step toward me.
Why does he smell so good when he looks like he spent the whole day in bed? Great. Now, I’m wondering if there’s someone waiting in his bed.
An ugly feeling I don't want to name stabs at my chest.
But he doesn't reek of sex. At least, I don't think so. Unless he just took a shower…
"Are you sniffing me?" There's laughter in his voice. He’s laughing at me.
With an embarrassed glare, I back away. "Just checking for a girl's perfume."
His eyebrows draw together, his amusement fading. "Girl's perfume? You think I have some on me?"
I just scoff and look away.
"Peaches." He cups my chin and gently turns my face to his. "Does it make you jealous? Thinking that I'm with someone else?"
Apparently, yes! "Of course not. Don't be ridiculous. Why would I be jealous? I'm not your girlfriend."
His hand falls away from my face, his unreadable mask back in place. "Are you going to tell me why you're here?"
"I was just with Liam."
Something dark flashes in his eyes as he gruffly asks, "You're back together?"
"What? No. We just talked. I told him we'
re truly over. We will never be back together."
He looks relieved to hear that.
"He's always wanted you."
The words are stuck in my head, urging me to voice them out loud. To find out the truth once and for all.
"Why did you kiss me?" I demand. "And don't say I kissed you, because I didn't. Well, okay, I leaned over to kiss you. But I wasn't aiming for your lips. I was going for your cheeks."
"I know."
My mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water. "You know? Then why—"
Because Liam was right. Parker wants you!
"Do I have to spell it out?" He doesn't have to. Because right there in his eyes is the truth I've been trying to deny.
Parker has feelings for me.
"Holy shit," I whisper in disbelief, blood pounding in my ears.
I knew that there was something between us, but I thought it was just a superficial attraction. That it was simply born out of convenience. But his eyes tell me it’s more than that. So much more than that.
Stunned, I think back to my interactions with him and his friends. They haven't been acting strange around me because of Liam. They’re being weird because of Parker. Because they know what he feels for me.
I avert my eyes. What am I going to do with this new information?
"Sawyer."
I lift my head, my gaze once again colliding with his wary one. There’s a hint of vulnerability there, too. Like he thinks I’m capable of crushing his heart with my bare hands. Like he believes I have power over him.
My breath hitches at that newfound knowledge.
"Say something," he prods, his voice raspy.
"I don't know what to say." I'm still trying to process the information I just learned. But then something occurs to me. I shake my head and scoff. "Actually, scratch that. I do have something to say. If you liked me all along, why were you hot and cold toward me? One moment, you're being nice and coming to my rescue. Like the time I passed out drunk in your car, and you drove me home and even carried me up my room, remember that? And the time you had my flat tire fixed and gave me a ride to school. But then the next, you're completely dismissive. Like you don't want anything to do with me. Why? I don't get it."
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