by Tessa Teevan
I’m seething, and while I want to kick this guy’s ass, I calm myself down, ready to launch into a speech that’ll make HR proud. Before I can talk, one of his buddies elbows him, laughing.
“Dude, there is no way she’s coming anywhere near you. She comes to work every single day on the arm of the guy in accounting, and they leave together, too. Not only that, but I see them eating lunch together almost every day of the week. I’ve heard they’re roommates, but I guaran-fucking-tee you they’re not sleeping in separate beds.”
I swear, this is the longest fucking elevator ride ever. Seriously. You should never be on one of these things for more than maybe twenty seconds, but somehow I got stuck on the slowest one in the universe, letting me hear all about Cheyenne’s tits and how she’s probably sleeping with her roommate.
Once the elevator dings, signaling that we’re on the ground floor, I’m finally noticed. At least one guy in the group looks sheepish, realizing that they were just sexifying my employee.
“Hey, Callahan,” he says nervously as we exit the elevator. “A bunch of us are going over to Five Points for happy hour to unwind if you wanna join in.”
Score. I’d be cheering in my head if I actually admitted that I do that. Any bar that they go to in the area will be near Cheyenne’s place, and according to them, she’s going to be there. Plastering on a grin, I nod my head.
“Sounds good. I could definitely use a few brews to start the weekend. Where are y’all headed?” I ask, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.
He gives me the info for the night, and I realize that I have just enough time to get home and change before meeting up with everyone. When I get home, I’m quick to remove my suit and tie, replacing them with a pair of dark jeans and a semi-tight grey long-sleeved Henley that shows off my muscles. Sure, I might not be as built as I was when I worked on the farm, but I’ve maintained a pretty good level of fitness, so I think I look pretty damn good. I throw on a grey knit beanie, covering my hair, perfecting the look. It may be a little preppy, but I hear chicks dig it, and I’m all about getting under Cheyenne’s skin.
It’s not long before I’m heading out of my place and walking the short distance to the bar. Somehow it’s never come up that I also live in Five Points, and I’m okay with that. Knowing Cheyenne, she’d have been looking for a new place to live in five seconds flat. Instead, I’ve remained impassive whenever talks turn to where we live.
Entering the bar, my eyes have to adjust to the dim light. As I scan the room, I see many of our coworkers, but not Cheyenne. Trying to stamp out the disappointment in my chest, I head toward the bar and order a stiff drink before joining a table with a few of the other department heads. I’m listening to them shooting the shit when I finally see her walk in, and she’s not alone. That guy, Bryan, is right behind her with his hand on the small of her back as he guides her to a table across the room. A shorter, raven-haired girl follows behind them, and I assume she’s the other roommate. My hopes that she might be hooking up with Bryan are completely erased as I watch them. I doubt he’d be paying more attention to Cheyenne if he was with the other chick, and it suddenly crosses my mind that the douchebags in the elevator might have been right. Maybe she is hooking up with him and that’s why she’s been acting weird all week. I try to shake the thought out of my head, but it’s too late. The idea’s been planted, and now I’m pissed at myself for not taking advantage of the situation when I caught her all jealous over Victoria.
I try to focus my gaze somewhere else in the room, but it’s no use. No matter what I do, my eyes always gravitate back towards her, so I stop fighting it. I take a moment to check her out as she stands at the high-top table, not yet sitting down as she waits for her friends to get situated. She’s changed out of her business clothes, and as much as I love Cheyenne in pencil skirts, the sight of her ass in skin-tight jeans makes my mouth water and my dick firm.
Finally, she turns round the table and pulls out a chair in between the other two, and the sight of her in a long-sleeved t-shirt that hugs her breasts perfectly has me discreetly adjusting my jeans. Jesus, you’d think I would’ve gotten used to seeing hot chicks with tight t-shirts, but something about Cheyenne never fails to turn me on. I know I’m not the only guy in the room checking her out, and I groan, knowing that it’s going to be a long-ass night if I can’t get her to talk to me.
I’m about to look away when she glances up from the drink menu and catches me watching her. She looks surprised to see me, like she didn’t expect me to make an appearance, to mingle with the staff. I’m not a snob by any means, but I do usually spend my weekends with my college buddies instead of fraternizing. The thing is, all those policies that I touted to Victoria had slipped far away from my mind when Cheyenne walked through my door. She’s looking at me curiously, holding my gaze before a waitress takes her attention away from me.
“Yo, Callahan,” I hear and turn to see Hunter, the head of the finance department, looking at me quizzically. “How ‘bout a game of darts?” he asks, and I’m thankful for the distraction. I glance back just in time to see her laughing at something Bryan said. Clenching and unclenching my fist, I take a swig of my whiskey and follow Hunter across the room.
We play the first couple of rounds in silence, and I can’t stand it. I try to make small talk so that I don’t get stuck in my head. We’re talking shop when he casually brings up Cheyenne. “So that assistant of yours? How’s that working out?”
I turn to study him, but he’s concentrating on the board, not looking at me. I have a feeling I know where this is going, and I want to groan over being put in this position.
“It’s going just fine,” I tell him, not expanding on it.
He lands a double bull’s-eye and moves to the board to pull out his darts. “I’ve been able to talk to her in the hall a few times. She seems sweet, and it doesn’t hurt that she’s gorgeous as hell. Do you know if she’s seeing anyone? I was thinking of asking her out, but I wanted to see if you knew the inside scoop first.”
I have to push down the scowl that’s threatening to form on my face. No way in hell is Hunter asking Cheyenne out. Don’t get me wrong. He’s actually a pretty good guy, but if anyone at Wellsley is going to ask her out, it’ll be me. And finally, I realize that I need to grab ahold of my balls and do just that.
“Sawyer?” he asks, breaking my concentration.
“Oh, yeah, sorry. Uhh, I’m not sure if she is or not. She’s always with that blond guy,” I tell him, gesturing towards Bryan, and now I know how it felt when she was telling Victoria that I was seeing someone.
“Bryan? Nah, they’re just roommates. He mentioned it a while ago, and since they’re close, I didn’t feel comfortable asking him about her just yet.” Relief washes over me, glad to learn they are just friends.
“Ah, well, then it’s up to you I guess,” I say, noncommittal. “What about company policy though?”
His eyebrows furrow as he shakes his head. “Weren’t you at the last staff meeting?” he asks, and I shake my head, remembering that I was out of town on business. “Policy changed. Dating’s fine as long as each party works in different departments. And since I’m not her boss, that means she’s fair game. Sucks for you, man!” he says, grinning, and I have the urge to throw a dart at his smug smile.
Shit, I do remember reading the memo about that. He’s right. If something does happen between Cheyenne and me, she’ll have to move departments, and that would suck. In two short months she’s become the best assistant I’ve ever had, and I chalk it up to us being in tune with each other, even after so much time apart.
As soon as we finish up the game, Hunter heads to the bar to grab another drink. Before I can even think about what I’m doing, I make my way towards her table. Bryan spots me coming, and he makes a big show of putting his arm around her chair, scooting it closer to him. I see her look at him in confusion, but he just keeps his eyes on mine. I wonder what exactly she’s told them about me, if anything. Pulli
ng up another chair to the round table, I sit next to the raven-haired girl. Cheyenne’s eyes widen when she sees me, and she’s quick to take a drink from her glass.
“Cool if I join y’all?” I ask, emphasizing the y’all, willing Cheyenne to remember the time she claimed I’ve probably never said the word, to remember anything and everything about that summer.
A huge grin spreads over her face, and I know I have her. Shrugging, she looks back and forth between the other two, who both nod. I settle in at the table as Cheyenne begins to make introductions.
“This is my best friend and other roommate, Cori,” she says, and the girl holds her hand out to me. I shake it, and try to suppress a smile when her eyes widen as Cheyenne introduces me. “Cori, this is Sawyer Callahan, my boss.”
I grimace at the title, knowing I used to be so much more than that. The way that Cori’s staring at me wide-eyed lets me know that she also knows that boss isn’t the correct title for me, and while I hate that she used that term, I’m beyond pleased that I was deemed worth discussing.
“And I’m pretty sure you two have met, but just in case, Sawyer, Bryan. Bryan, Sawyer,” she says, her hands waving between the two of us.
“I don’t think we ever officially met. Sorry about that. I try to get around to all the new hires, but we’ve been busy with crazy deadlines.”
Cori smiles, butting in. “Oh, we know, Sawyer. Cheyenne’s been working a lot of late nights at the office,” she says teasingly as she shoulder-bumps her friend, who turns to glare at her. “What? I’m just saying we can certainly understand how busy you’ve been, right, Bryan?”
He’s staring at me, and if I hadn’t just heard from Hunter that they weren’t an item, I’d be thinking that he’s trying to make it clear not to move in on his territory. Unfortunately for him, I can see that he’s acting more like a protective older brother.
“Yeah, whatever. I need a shot. Shy, come take one with me,” he says, getting up from the table. She looks from me to Cori and then back to me. Hell, if he wants to liquor her up for me, I don’t mind. I shrug, and when she leaves, I turn towards Cori.
“I take it you’ve heard of me,” I say, not letting a second of our alone time go to waste.
“Oh, yeah, Sawyer Callahan. I’ve heard of you. I first heard about you a long, long time ago,” she admits. “Even though I don’t know you personally, I’m rooting for you. I don’t know what happened between you guys last weekend, but she was in a hell of a mood when Bryan and I got back from California, and, well, your suit’s still sitting in her room. I’m probably overstepping my bounds and breaking some kind of girl code, but between you and me, she hasn’t dated much in the whole time that I’ve known her and I think you might be part of the reason why.”
Her words surprise me. All this time I figured she was probably dating guys left and right in college, having the time of her life. To hear that she doesn’t really date—and that it might be because of me—gives me hope that somehow I’ll be able to work my way back in.
“Do you know all of it?” I ask, wondering if Cheyenne spilled every single bean.
“Yeah, and for what it’s worth, I think she’s an idiot. Just give her some time. I think being back here in Georgia is helping her remember who she used to be before she got immersed in school and then her career. Just be patient with her, Sawyer. It’ll all work out.”
Taking a swig of my drink, I decide that I like this girl, and it’s definitely a good thing to have an ally in Cheyenne’s best friend. “So should I call you Cori or the Love Guru?” I ask, wincing at my lame joke the moment it escapes my lips.
She laughs and then pulls out a business card from her wallet. I read the card and then look at her.
“Seriously? You’re a relationship advice blogger?”
“Absolutely. Check out the site. There might just be something there that interests you,” she says, trailing off as the other two come back to join us.
“How was the shot?” I ask, and Cheyenne winces.
“He made me take Jäger. I frickin’ hate Jäger,” she complains, her drawl getting a little more pronounced the more she drinks.
“I remember how much you hate black licorice, so I can’t imagine Jäger would be your drink of choice,” I tell her, and her eyes widen.
“You remember a lot,” she says, her eyes a little glossy as she leans across the table, getting a little closer to me.
Reaching over, I brush her loose bangs back behind her ear. “How many times do I have to tell you, pretty girl? I remember everything.”
I’m about three seconds away from kissing her when I hear a throat clear. She pulls away from me suddenly, looking sheepish when she sees Bryan’s scowl. Before either of us can say anything, Cori scoots her chair back and stands.
“Come on, Bryan. The DJ just started and I need to shake my ass,” she says, pulling him out of his seat, not allowing him to protest.
Cheyenne watches them go, and I decided that I’ve wasted too much time already. Getting up from my chair, I round the table and sit in the seat sideways next to hers so I’m facing her. She turns towards me, and I grab ahold of her chair and pull it closer until she’s only a few inches away from me. Her eyes linger on my lips, and when she licks her own, it takes everything in me not to kiss her right here. I know that’s dangerous though—in more ways than one. Instead, I lean in and whisper in her ear.
“I swear to you, pretty girl, I remember everything,” I repeat. “And I’m going to make damn well sure that you do, too.”
SAWYER’S WORDS WASH OVER me and it’s all I can do not to throw my arms around him and tell him that I do remember. I’ve always remembered. I guess I shouldn’t be so surprised that he thinks I’ve forgotten it all with the way I left, but the truth is that for a long time I dreamt of nothing but Sawyer, Shiloh Grove, and two swallows. Getting that tattoo reminded me every single day of what I let go, who I left behind. I’ve often wondered in the back of my mind if that swallow represented me or him. That deep down, some part of me knew we’d find our way back to each other.
Over the past two months, I’ve tried my hardest to fight this attraction, to resist the once dormant feelings that have threatened to surface, and I know he’s been doing the same, even though I have no idea why he’d ever give me another chance after the way I left him. With sudden clarity, I finally know why I left without seeing him one last time. If I had, I don’t think I would’ve ever been able to walk away. Instead, I took the cowardly way out and ran.
This week has been the most tense-filled one since I stared working at Wellsley. After he caught me in my lie to Ms. Kensington, he left me reeling. The rest of the week I felt like I was walking on eggshells. Any time he tried to get personal, I made some excuse to change the subject or leave the room, and frankly, it’s been exhausting. I know I’m wearing down, and this closeness is going to break me—sooner rather than later.
“Cheyenne,” he says softly, interrupting my thoughts. His hands land on my thighs as his thumbs rub circles on my jeans.
A shiver runs down my spine, and when I see him lean in, part of me prays that he’s going to kiss me. It’s been seven long, tortuous days since his lips were on mine, and I’ve been missing them every day since.
He bypasses my lips and places them just above my ear. “Don’t run from me, Cheyenne,” he whispers gruffly, and it’s uncanny how well he can still read me. While part of me was hoping for a kiss, the other half was prepared to jump up and run to the bathroom.
Pulling back, he takes one hand off my leg and places it on the table. He downs the rest of his drink, which, on his breath, smells like whiskey, and so many memories come rushing back in. As I take a sip of my own cocktail, my eyes meet his, and the softness in them has me finally relenting. I’m not even sure what this means for us.
“I don’t plan on it,” I admit, watching as relief floods in his face. “I know you might not believe this, but I remember all of it, too.” If I didn’t have these damn bo
ots on, I’d be showing him my tattoo in intricate detail as some sort of proof, but I’ll have to wait for another day.
As he leans back, he rewards me with a sexy, heart-stopping smile. He changes the subject, surprising me. “So tell me about your roommates,” he requests, and I do, slightly thankful for the emotional reprieve.
I tell him all about how Cori and I met when we were assigned to be roommates. He laughs when I tell him about the day we met Bryan. When I mention their love/hate relationship, he simply nods, and I wonder if he’s still as observant as he used to be. He seems to get the hint that I think they would be perfect together, and I swear I see that same look of relief on his face again.
“Sounds like college was a great time for you,” he comments almost wistfully.
“To be honest, I was lucky I had them or else I would’ve been a complete hermit. I was so nervous about losing my scholarship that I mostly focused on school and my internship. They were lucky to get me to go out at least a couple of times a month, but fortunately they both were also great study partners. I really won the lottery when I found those two at Berkeley,” I tell him, and I think he understands, knowing my history.
“I glad you had those two. I worried about you being all alone out there, and Sylvia wouldn’t give me your info after you turned off your phone.”
I wince, remembering how hard it was to change my number when I got to Berkeley, and once again, I feel like a complete jerk and wonder how he can even stand to talk to me.
“I even tried to get Dad to at least get her to tell you to call me, but she refused. I kind of panicked a little bit and almost caught a flight out there, figuring I could stalk all the freshman dorms, but then one night by the lake I was re-reading your letter and I realized I needed to respect your wishes,” he admits.