by Sara Hubbard
"I'm right beside you."
"For now. The sex was amazing. The way we fit together…but if I had to choose between keeping you or having sex with you, I think I'd choose keeping you."
"I don't understand. What makes me so special?"
"You're honest. You wear your heart on your sleeve. And you don't have an agenda. You're just who you are, take it or leave it. You have no idea how rare that is."
"Thank you for saying so."
"I don't really have…anyone…I talk to. But I like talking to you."
I roll over and kiss his cheek, before resting my head in the crook of his neck. God help me, I think I'm falling for him. The butterflies in my stomach are dancing wildly and when I smile, it’s as if every inch of my body is smiling too. Well doesn't that beat all hell? What the hell am I going to do about Jason? And my mother? No. Not right now. I only want to focus on Sawyer; he deserves to have me right here with him. All of me.
Unfortunately, life has other plans. My phone rings somewhere in my room and I sit up, clutching the sheets over my breasts. I glance around the room. "Where's that coming from?"
Sawyer reaches for my pants and hands them to me. I yank my phone free from the pocket. "Hello?"
"Molly? It's Jason."
I heave a sigh. "This isn't a good time right now."
"Are you with a client?"
"Yup." Not a lie. I close my eyes and cringe. Yes, he’s a client, and he’s also naked in my bed after giving me an exceptional orgasm.
"I won't keep you, but I was wondering…well, I'm attending a dinner with a potential client, and our dads have agreed to make me a partner if I can bring him in."
"Jason," I whisper. I climb from the bed, tugging on the sheets and taking them with me. Sawyer lies in bed, narrowing his eyes at me, his cock out in the open. I gulp and, spinning around, I exit the room, gently shutting the door behind me.
"I need you. Please. I won't be able to do this without you. This dinner means everything. I'll finally have Dad's stamp of approval. You have to help me," he begs.
"I don't have to do anything."
"Molly, we've known each other our whole lives. Even if you can't forgive me, I know you still care about me. Please, just do this for me. As a favor for a friend."
I tip my head back and pinch the bridge of my nose. I know I'm going to regret this in more ways than one.
"I need you."
"Fine. Text me where and when. But don't think this means anything. We're not back together."
"Of course not, Molls. Thank you! You're an angel."
"Uh huh." I press End and stare at my phone. There is no logical explanation as to why I'm doing this. He broke my heart. I should make a clean break. Amy will tell me I'm a glutton for punishment; that I can't say no to people. Maybe that's true. But he has a point. How can I turn my back on him after a lifetime of friendship and love? Just because he treated me badly doesn't mean I have to treat him the same. I'm a better person.
Sawyer is almost dressed when I go back into my room. He slides his feet into his sneakers. "I gotta go."
"What? I thought we were going to look at houses?"
"I forgot I had to meet with some sponsor. Sorry." He brushes by me, and heads for the door. No kiss. No hug. It was like nothing happened. I feel sick to my stomach. But this is what I wanted—no relationship. Just friends. We are still friends, aren't we? Or is he running scared from that? He did say he couldn't do relationships.
"Sawyer, wait."
He spins around, his face blank. I can't read him at all.
"Are we cool?" I ask him. "Nothing's changed, right? We're friends?"
He chuckles without humor and stares up at the ceiling before returning his gaze back to mine. "Don't go all psycho-analyzing me. We're cool, but I got shit to do. That's the beauty of our arrangement. I do what I want and so can you. No messiness. No explanations."
He clears his throat and his eyes soften. I evidently hurt him somehow, but that can't be. Is he jealous of my phone call with Jason? No. I feel full of myself for even entertaining the thought.
"I’ll call you.” He opens the door and shuts it behind him, leaving me hugging a sheet in the entryway. What the hell was that? 'Cause I'm pretty sure this conversation just felt like a boyfriend and girlfriend fight.
***
"Sawyer isn't returning my phone calls." I grab the dishes from the table and slide them into the sink with a clank. Then I scrub and scrub and scrub some more.
"You're going to wipe the paint off those dishes if you don't take it easy."
I toss the scrub brush in the sink and spin around, leaning against the counter with my arms across my chest.
Amy takes a sip of her coffee and smiles before tapping a word into her iPad crossword puzzle. "What's a six letter word for enigma?"
"Sawyer," I mumble.
Amy taps her finger on the tablet.
"Did you hear what I said?"
"What? About Sawyer? I'm sure he's just busy."
"Maybe. But he was really quick to get back to me before. I could expect him to call me back the same day, but then after we…you know."
Amy sets her iPad down and her cheeks lift, displaying a shit-eating grin if I ever saw one. "You and Sawyer fucked again?"
"Uh. Don't be so crude. But yeah…we did, and then Jason called and I agreed to meet him, and Sawyer was kind of cold. And left."
"You. Are. Sawyer Davis's. Kryptonite."
I laugh. "Ridiculous. We're friends with benefits. Neither of us want a relationship."
"I’m telling you right now—he screwed you and then you take a call from your ex, and agree to meet him. Jason encroached on his territory. Friends or not, guys don't deal well with that shit. And I wouldn't be surprised if he pees on you the next time you he screws you."
"You really think..."
She shrugs. "Maybe. You're not into golden showers, are you?"
I slap her shoulder. "I'm talking about the jealousy thing."
"I really think so. He might not want to, but jealousy is a sure sign dude is falling."
Shit. This was not what I wanted at all. And yet the butterflies are back and making me smile. Oh no. Not good.
"Don't look at me like that,” Amy says. “You said you were done with guys, and if that’s not still true then maybe you should think about dating someone else. Sawyer has some serious issues, Moll.”
"I thought you were happy we hooked up?"
"Yeah, until Charlie told me some details and I Googled him! Sawyer Davis is not the kind of guy I want my best friend with. Did you even ask him about his past?"
"I started to but he got upset. I want to know, but like I said before, I want him to tell me.”
“I’ll tell you.”
I raise my hands and shake my head. “No. Stop! I want it to come from him. He won’t hurt me, Amy. I believe that.”
"You say that….but you don't know the details. You know what they say: ignorance is bliss. And you're too trusting. Look at what happened with you and Jason."
I sigh and take a seat opposite her. "That was a one-time thing. It wasn't as if he was cheating on me for years or anything."
Amy takes a drink of her coffee and picks her tablet back up. "None of my business."
"Anyway, Jason and I are done."
"That's why you're going on a date with him tonight."
I point at her with raised eyebrows. "I told you, we're trying to be friends."
"Like you and Sawyer are friends?”
I roll my eyes and get up to leave. "I'm going to get ready."
"Make sure you leave a sock on the door if you don't want me to come in," Amy calls after me as I head for my room.
Who the hell does she think I am? I have more sense and will power than that. I'll help Jason get through the night, and be home in my bed before eleven. No mess. No fuss.
Fifteen
JASON IS ENTERTAINING his big client at an Italian restaurant on the West Side. Jason propose
d to me there and I wonder if he didn’t consider this when he made the arrangements to meet there. I almost wanted to go back on my promise when he told me this. Getting over him is tough enough without putting me smack dab in the same place where one of our most significant memories was made.
I'm dressed conservatively, with a sweater set and a black skirt and flats. I hop out of my car and amble toward the restaurant, looking up at the sign and hugging myself. Cucina Raffinata. I stare in through the windows. The lights are low and the candles on the tables flicker. Jason isn’t visible and I hope he’s running late. It will give me a few more moments to collect myself.
I step inside and the waitress smiles at me. “Table for one?”
“No. I’m meeting someone. Jason Mathews. We’re with a party of…six?” I think it’s six, but I’m not sure and Jason really didn’t specify. He just said we’d meet with a few couples. Would he hate me if I ran from here and never came back? Probably not. But I'd hate myself.
“They have a private room in the back. Please follow me.” The waitress glides through the tables and I follow her. She takes me to a secluded space in the back: a single room with a large table, a chandelier and a running fountain. They’re all here.
Jason stands and takes a step forward to greet me. My stomach turns and I cover it with my hands. Just breathe. I can do this. He takes my hands in his and leans in to give me a lingering kiss on my lips. I suck my lips in, unsure of how this kiss makes me feel. The ache in my chest isn’t there anymore, and I feel something different, something empty. Sadness.
"You look amazing," he says, leaning back and taking me in. "Maybe a little casual, but I'm just happy to have you here."
I force a smile as I pull away and give myself a once over. I thought I looked fine. Jason is in a suit and tie and when I peek at the others, the other two men are similarly dressed in suits. The two women smile up at me. One rests her hand on the arm of the gentleman beside her. She's younger than the man by maybe fifteen years, and she's clearly had some work done. Face, nose, definitely boobs. No way those puppies are real. They're little bullets. She's wearing an evening gown.
Shit. I really am underdressed. I cover my chest, feeling exposed, like I'm naked.
"Don’t fidget," Jason says in a whisper, his tone serious.
I nod, forcing a smile.
“This is Ricky Madison and his wife, Jewel.” Ricky stands and takes my hand while his wife and I exchange polite nods. “And this is George Fattone and his girlfriend, Tina.”
“Nice to meet you,” I say as George stands and kisses my hand. Jason’s jaw tenses but he smiles. I can tell he’s irritated, but no way will he pull the jealousy card in front of his clients. He’s smarter than that.
When George lowers into his seat, his jacket shifts and I spy the edge of a gun in a holster below his arm. Oh, shit. I glance back and forth between the men, suddenly nervous. Jason’s a criminal attorney—of course he deals with criminals—but smiling and eating dinner with them while they’re carrying guns doesn’t make me feel too happy. And I wasn’t happy to begin with.
My phone vibrates and I excuse myself. “I’m just going to go to the bathroom. I’ll be back in one minute.”
I glance at my phone and there’s another image of massive balls on it—like elephantitis-of-the-nuts-big. Oh, for crying out loud. I slip into the bathroom and call Amy.
“Amy?”
“Ha ha ha. What do you think? How would you like those puppies squirting into you?”
I make a face. “Gross. Forget about the balls for a minute. I need you to call me in twenty minutes, and tell me there’s an emergency and you need me to come home.”
“Mm hmm. That bad already?”
I sigh. “Worse. I thought I could do this but I can’t. And these guys…they’re not exactly people I want to get cozy with, if you know what I mean.”
“Gotcha. Twenty minutes.”
In all my life, I don’t remember my dad ever introducing our family to his clients and now I know why. It's probably for reasons like this. He didn’t want his family to be around the people he worked for, people who probably also had guns.
A tap, tap, tap sounds on the door and I open it to find Jason standing there.
“Is everything okay? We thought you got lost.”
“Nope. Just freshening up.”
He rubs at his chin. “What’s going on in that head of yours? You’re freaking out about something.”
"I can’t do this, Jason. I can't smile and pretend I'm not scared out of mind. They’re carrying guns!"
“So do thousands of other people in this country.”
I shake my head and pace the hallway. "What are they charged with?"
"This won't make it easier."
"Tell me."
"Murder. Racketeering..."
"They're organized crime!" I say in a quiet scream. I hold my fist in my mouth and bite down hard. "Make an excuse for me. I’m done. I can't believe you brought me into this."
"Molly. No. You can't do this. After all we've been through. You’re staying right here."
“No. I’m not.”
He grabs my arm but I swing out of it. “Molly, do not embarrass me right now. Come back to dinner. Stay, eat and then we’ll leave, I promise. These are not the type of people you want to offend.”
I suck in my lips, release them and chew my cheek. “Okay. Fine. But eat quickly.”
“There she is!” George says when I return. “We thought you got lost.”
I chuckle nervously. “Lineup.”
“Don’t you hate that?” Jewel says in a raspy voice.
“Yep. Hate it.”
We make polite conversation. George asks me about my job and tells me he has friends looking for houses and asks for a business card.
I snap my fingers. “Shoot. I never thought to bring any.”
“Next time we meet, I’ll bring you one.” Jason says as he lifts his arm up to wrap around my shoulders. I refuse to look at him because giving him the stink eye right now wouldn’t be a great idea.
I order pasta with lobster. Amy finally calls when I’m halfway through eating it.
“So sorry. Please excuse me for a minute.” I whip out my phone. “Hello?” Everyone stares at me. Jason looks annoyed and rolls her finger through the air to tell me to wrap it up.
“Molly. I have an emergency. Kick Jason in the balls and come on home.”
“What? That’s awful. Are you okay?”
“Have I mentioned how much of a douche he is? Seriously, kick him in the balls for me.”
Her fixation with balls is beginning to border on obsession. “Yeah. Hang tight. I’m coming.” I press End and frown at the faces staring back at me. “I’m so sorry. My roommate fell at the apartment and she needs someone to take her to the hospital.”
“Can’t she call Megan?”
“Jason. She’s hurt.”
He narrows his eyes at me and nods his head. “Tell Amy I hope she makes a speedy recovery.”
“I will.” I tap him on the shoulder and hurry out of the restaurant.
I slam my car door and hit my steering wheel with my open palm. Who is Jason? Six years ago he'd told me he wanted to defend people who didn't have the means to defend themselves. But now he’s headed for a high six figure salary and willing to defend people who make a living off of making other people suffer. He’s no longer the guy who kissed me on the swings behind my house when I was fifteen. Or the guy who asked me to move in with him while we rode in a hot air balloon on Valentines' Day. How could I have been so blind? It doesn't even matter who kissed who first.
I drive off, my mind spinning. Without thinking, I end up at Sawyer's hotel. I pull over, my eyes crawling up the brick wall to the window where I imagine Sawyer’s room is. Why won’t he answer my calls? Is Amy right? Does he have feelings for me? Do I have feelings for him? I don’t want him to be my rebound, but I don't want to lose him either. I've grown pretty fond of him. Okay. So maybe I d
o have feelings for him.
I park the car and head inside. A woman with a Chihuahua keeps me company on the elevator. When I get off, I take a slow breath as I head for Sawyer's room. Hopefully he won't be angry with me for showing up like this. Maybe there’s a good explanation for him blowing me off and I have to admit, I want to hear it.
As I round the corner, I hear a door unlock and a leggy brunette walks out of Sawyer's room. I halt, standing rooted to the spot.
Sawyer steps out in his pajama pants and gives her a long kiss on the lips, while gripping her ass and pulling her so close he is almost arched over her. I take a deep breath. I can’t pretend this doesn’t hurt me. It almost rips my heart to shreds.
When they come up for air, she taps his cheek and walks away. Sawyer’s gaze follows after her until he meets mine. I debate how to react to this. A friend would roll her eyes at her playboy pal and keep walking. A girlfriend would run and hide or slap him, which was exactly what I want to do. But I have no right. No strings.
So I hold my head up high and continue toward him. His face is blank as he leans up against the doorframe. When we’re face to face, he diverts his eyes to the red carpet. There it is: guilt. If he feels he did something wrong then why did he do it?
"Hi." I force a smile. "Wow. She was pretty." My words are happy and a little enthusiastic. "Acrobatics and anal, I bet."
His eyes flash up at me. "What did you say?"
"Can I come in?" I step inside, trying not to stare at the wrinkled bed sheets that are strewn about the floor. Instead, I head for the bar and grab a Corona. "Do you mind?" I hold it up so he can see what I’m taking.
He shakes his head and approaches me like a lion approaching a sheep, only no way is he going to devour me after having the leggy brunette—and I’m not about to let him, anyway.
I sidestep him and take a seat on the couch. With a tip of his head, he regards me with so much confusion that I look down to see if I’ve forgotten to put my clothes on.
"What are you doing here?" he asks.
"Dinner didn't pan out, so I thought I stop by and find out why you're not returning my calls."