"We don't always get a choice in the future we're given," Sawyer said from behind me just as I reached out for the doorknob. "But we get to choose how we deal with it."
I dropped my hand from the knob even though I didn't really want to hear the lecture he was preparing to give me. The one that told me I needed to embrace my new life and that it could be just as full as it had once been. But I figured he'd earned the right to tell me that, so I stayed where I was.
"I lost count of how many times I've tried to sell myself that shit," Sawyer said. His words surprised me enough to have me turning around to face him. He was still sitting on the window seat. The tablet was on the bench next to him. His hands were clasped together in front of him while his elbows rested on his knees. His golden hair caught the afternoon light as he hung his head. He looked like a fallen angel.
"Your ex?" I suggested.
His nod was so brief that I almost missed it. But even if he hadn't made the gesture, it would've been clear from his drawn features. I found myself slowly rolling my chair toward him. But his next words stopped me in my tracks.
"The kiss was a mistake," he declared.
I wanted to howl in denial. How could anything that good be a mistake? Maybe it was always like that for him or maybe it wasn’t. I’d always thought myself to be a decent lover, but it wasn’t like I’d spent any time in a real relationship… the kind in which your partner does or doesn’t confirm your skills in bed.
So yeah, it could very well be that I was alone in the fact that I couldn't fathom how a kiss could change so much. I found myself looking down at my legs. "Yeah," I agreed because he was right. It had been a mistake. There was no place to go from that amazing kiss.
"I'm not giving up on Apollo," Sawyer said. His eyes finally lifted to meet mine. "He's been through hell, but he's still here. I have to believe that means something." The desperation in Sawyer's voice had me rolling forward a bit more before I even realized what I was doing. We almost ended up knee to knee, but I managed to stop just short of touching him.
"Tell me what you need me to do," I said. The chance to give Sawyer something that only I could, even if it wasn't the physical relationship I secretly dreamed of, wasn't really a choice. It was a need. Anything I could do to wipe the brokenness from his beautiful eyes, I would do it.
Anything.
No matter what it ended up costing me in the end.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
SAWYER
Tell me what you need me to do.
I hadn’t answered him. Not that day or the next. No, I’d taken the coward’s way out and had left the room without giving the imploring man any kind of response at all.
I’d had a whole slew of responses fighting for dominance on the tip of my tongue including the only one that had really mattered—the one meant to help Apollo—but I hadn’t let any of them fall.
Not after that kiss.
That amazing, steal your breath kind of kiss that, even now, I swore I could still taste on my lips.
Tell me what you need me to do.
I needed him to forget the whole thing. From the moment I’d stormed into his room and claimed his mouth to the instant I’d walked out on him without a word.
The unwelcome emotions and old fears had slammed into me like a freight train as I’d left Jett’s room, then the house itself. I’d heard various people calling my name as I’d hurried to my apartment above the garage, but it wasn’t until I’d thrown my bag into my truck that I’d answered little Newt’s question as he’d stood just a few feet from the driver’s door, his small arm wrapped around Loki’s neck.
Where are you going, Uncle Sawyer?
The high-pitched question that’d been thick with unshed tears had been the only thing that had made me stop moving. I’d knelt in front of Newt and with a fake smile pasted to my face, I’d done the one thing I’d sworn I’d never do to any member of the family that had chosen to call me one of their own.
I’d lied.
No ifs, ands, or buts… I’d lied to the little boy.
I’d rattled off some nonsense about needing to check on a wolf that had been hit by a car and that had been it. I’d hightailed it out of the center and run back to the only part of the world I could call my own.