Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 71565 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71565 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Sandra’s eyes widen and she glances between us. The movement happens in a fraction of a second, the kind of thing you know in your gut just happened but you’ll question later, wondering if you’re embellishing the encounter in your head after the fact.
“Sandra, tell Gabe I need to see him,” Sawyer says.
Sandra nods and picks up her phone.
“No, don’t call him. Find him and tell him,” he snaps.
That was the most obvious ploy to get rid of her, ever.
Sandra blinks and sets the phone back down. She’s rising from her desk when Sawyer nods to me, indicating I should follow him into his office.
I don’t want to.
This was a bad idea.
I feel like I’m about to get simultaneously broken up with and fired.
We make it three feet into his office before his cell phone rings. He glances at it, then back at me, before stopping in the middle of his office and turning in my direction.
“What do you need, Everly? Why are you here?”
He says it in a tone I’ve never gotten from him. He runs his palms across his face and I can see that he’s tired, not himself. He’s in jeans and a light brown sweater. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him wear jeans to the office in all the times I’ve stopped by. And I damn well know I’ve never been asked why I was here to see him. Not once.
“Are you serious?” I ask him, my voice rising. “What do I need? Why am I here?”
“Everly.” He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose as the phone starts ringing again.
My eyes dart over to the desk where the phone is flashing. His keys are resting next to the phone, jacket laid across the desk. He’s either just walked in or he’s about to walk out. It’s late afternoon so neither option makes sense.
He walks over to the desk and glances at the screen, silencing the call, phone clenched in his fist.
“Everly,” he starts again. “I can’t do this.”
I think I’m going to throw up.
“Do what?” I press my lips tightly together and tilt my head, eyes narrowed on him. “What exactly can’t you do?”
“Us.”
The blood pounds in my ears as soon as the word leaves his lips.
“Why is that, Sawyer?”
“We’re going in two different directions, Everly.”
He doesn’t even look at me as he says it. Instead he walks to his desk, back turned to me until he gets behind it. His eyes are flat when they catch mine again, the desk between us. I don’t move any closer to him, still rooted to the spot a few feet past the threshold.
The phone rings again and he turns the ringer off, placing it face up on the desk in front of him. He places both fists on the desk, his face expressionless.
“What directions would those be?” I press.
He pushes back from the desk, standing straight, his eyes distant. I’ve never seen him like this. I’ve always felt like I was standing in a ray of sunshine when I had his attention. I had no idea the sun was eventually going to set.
“You’re a lot younger than I am, Everly. You need time to grow up. Figure out what you want to do with your life.”
“What does that even mean? I know exactly what our age difference is and so do you. You’ve known since the moment we met. That hasn’t changed. Nothing has changed.”
He rubs his forehead with two fingers, thumb against his temple like he’s fighting a headache. “I turned thirty-five last week. I reevaluated.”
“You reevaluated?” I seethe. “You just reevaluated me out of your life? Just like that? You cannot be serious with the bullshit coming out of your mouth right now, Sawyer Camden.”
“You have no direction, Everly,” he says sharply. “You’re graduating in a few months and you have no idea what you’re doing with your life.”
He knows that bothers me. He knows it.
“You selected a college solely as a means to seduce my brother. I mean, Jesus, how did you think this was going to end between us?”
“Don’t do this, Sawyer.” I say it softly, tears threatening behind my eyelids. I don’t beg, and I don’t cry, as a general rule. But I’m not sure I can keep that record intact right now.
“It’s done.”
“You’re an asshole.”
“I am.” Sawyer gives a slight nod. “Your brother tried to warn you, didn’t he?”
Wow.
It’s true. Eric did try.
I didn’t listen.
I flick my eyes to the ceiling, trying to make the tears recede without an obvious swipe to my face.
“I get bored and I move on.” Sawyer sighs. “So thanks. Thank you.” That comes out a little softer than the words preceding it but he might as well have punched me with the words.
Thank you? For what? Falling in love with him? The mind-blowing sex? Making him laugh? Or leaving his office quietly now that he’s dismissed me?