Sawyer (Carolina Reapers 2)

She was a master at hiding her feelings.

I pretty much wore my heart on my sleeve. Always had.

We couldn’t be any more different, yet physically, I knew I’d met my match. I’d never burned so hot, so quickly for any woman.

But with all we both had going on, the question wasn’t our chemistry.

It was what we were going to do about it.

6

Echo

Sawyer’s face filled one of the flatscreens in the corner of the bar. The place was wall-to-wall packed with customers, all Reapers’ fans who’d shown up tonight to watch the game and take part in the Reaper Special—half-price beers on tap and a free appetizer. One of my best ideas yet, seeing as I had more than doubled the expected revenue for tonight.

But, despite the chatter-filled bar or the excitement over a well-played game, I couldn’t not see the purple smudges underneath Sawyer’s eyes. The way his shoulders sank with each reporter asking him the same damn questions. Grilling him on the four losses the Reapers’ had suffered since he’d joined the team six games ago.

I tried not to grind my teeth. Tried not to scream at the screen why the hell aren’t you talking to Axel? The Reapers’ captain? Axel knew how to handle the vultures called reporters. Knew how to spin words to make them sound like gold. Sound like the Reapers were still an Inevitable team bound for the Cup.

Sawyer?

He looked burned out.

Looked like the pressure of diving headfirst into an NHL team mid-season while simultaneously moving his mother across the country had finally caught up to him.

A heaviness settled over my chest.

He needed a break. A pick-me-up. A distraction. Something.

Otherwise he’d grind out this dream-career of his until there was nothing left of him but dust.

After the interview was over, and I’d poured a fresh drink for one of my regulars, I fished my cell from underneath the bar.

Echo: Did you know that Cap’n Crunch’s full name is Horatio Magellan Crunch?

Sawyer: That’s a serious name for a not-so-serious guy.

I bit my lip to keep from smiling at my phone.

Echo: Right? How can you ever eat the cereal again? All the whimsy is dead for me.

Sawyer: I’ve always been more of a Frosted Flakes guy anyway.

Echo: Tiger over Captain. Got it. Want to grab some tonight and see how it pairs with bourbon?

I held my breath, torturing my bottom lip. I couldn’t stop the flashes from the last time I’d seen him—his lips on mine, the taste of bourbon on his tongue as he claimed mouth in a way that told me exactly what he could do to my body. The way he’d lifted me without so much as a blink and took me to the kitchen…like he was as consumed by the kiss as I was. Like he couldn’t take another second without touching me in private. Goddamn, the man had set me on fire. And now all I wanted to do was feel him again.

Sawyer: I promised Mom I’d stop by tonight. Just leaving arena now.

I tried to ignore the deflation inside me, tried to ignore the smile slipping off my lips. Sawyer and I were just friends. Sure, we’d shared a too-hot-to-forget kiss. And yes, maybe I’d replayed that kiss while touching myself more than once in the past week. And yeah, maybe I couldn’t get the man out of my head no matter how hard I tried, but that didn’t mean anything. Nothing but a craving. Something shiny and new on display in my daily life. That’s all.

Sawyer: Want to come with me? We could always grab Frosted Flakes after. Unless that was a joke?

In an instant, my spirit was up, and my nerves in overdrive.

It had taken Chad a year of convincing before I met his family.

But Sawyer and I weren’t together. He could’ve just as easily asked Faith or Harper to go as they were his friends too.

Echo: I never joke about cereal. Pick me up when you’re ready?

Sawyer: See you in a bit.

I tossed my cell under the bar and raked my fingers through my hair. I’d elected to just wear it down today, sans braids, because I’d been in a super lazy mood this morning. Sleep had been few and far between lately, and it had nothing to do with the way Sawyer had kissed me so much my body craved him like my next meal.

Nope.

Not at all.

Thirty minutes later, my replacement showed up, and I was in Sawyer’s brand-new truck, heading to meet the most important woman in his life.

To say my stomach was in knots was an understatement.

“Are you okay?” Sawyer asked, glancing at me for a moment before returning his eyes to the road.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be okay?”

“You haven’t told me a ridiculous random fact since your last text.”

“So.”

“And you also haven’t commented on my shirt.”