“No,” I cut him off. “You need to leave, Sawyer! Get out!” I tossed my keys at his chest, and he easily caught them. I didn’t have the strength to unlock the door, too terrified Chad would be out there waiting.
“Echo—”
“Don’t you see?” I yelled, the pain in my chest doubling. “Don’t you see?” I motioned to myself, then him. “We’re from different worlds. You keep coming around me, and you’ll lose everything.” I palmed my cheeks, trying to stop the tears.
“That’s not true.”
“It is. Look at us! You’re in the middle of Division Finals,” I said, rubbing at my chest. “You fly out in the morning for game three, and you’re here at two a.m.! I’m ruining you!”
This…this pain, I knew it. Heartbreak. Which meant…
Sawyer.
My heart belonged to him.
I’d fallen for him despite trying not to.
And now I would ruin everything.
To keep him safe, I would destroy us.
“Chad was right,” I said, completely defeated.
“You did not just say that stupid prick was right.”
“He was,” I said, cradling my arm that hurt like a bitch. “I’m cursed. You need to run. Far away from me. You’ll end up dead or get swept up in a dark world you were never meant to see.”
Sawyer took one step toward me, then another.
I hoped he was heading toward the door behind me.
But he stopped in front of me.
I refused to look up.
Refused to meet those gray eyes.
“Echo.” His voice was soft, calm, but held a power enough to give me pause. He tilted my chin up, forcing me to meet his eyes. “I’m not scared of you,” he said.
I clenched my eyes shut. “You should be.”
“I’m not,” he said, smoothing his thumbs over my cheeks, wiping tear after tear away. “I’m not scared of your past, either.”
I peeled my eyes apart, searching for any sign of deception. I only saw the truth in his eyes, the hope, and the compassion.
“You’re too good for me,” I said, and meant it.
This incredible man who’d spent his life taking care of his mother, putting his dream on the line to ensure her comfort. The man who supported his team and worked hard and played hard and listened when I spoke and never judged me for any dirty detail I’d told him about my past.
This man…
“Echo,” he chided, cupping both cheeks in his hands. “You are amazing. And wild. And smart. And funny. And…” he sucked in a sharp breath, his eyes churning with too many emotions to read. “And you’re mine.”
More tears slipped free at the declaration, at the idea that someone as good and decent as Sawyer McCoy would ever claim me.
“And what am I to you, Echo?” The question was a whisper between us.
My eyes cleared as I locked onto his gaze, looking up at him with my heart fully exposed.
“Everything, Sawyer,” I whispered. “You’re everything.”
The admission was an unleashing because one second I stood there gazing up at him and the next he’d swept one strong arm underneath my knees and cradled me to his chest. He grazed the tip of his nose over mine and slowly, softly planted a kiss on my lips. The motion restrained of the fierce hunger we had for each other and replaced with something infinitely more intimate. Powerful. Consuming.
I wrapped my arms around his neck, kissing him back, gently exploring his mouth, letting my lips and tongue silently tell him the words I couldn’t dare speak.
I’ve fallen for you.
Don’t break me.
Sawyer smiled against my mouth, pulling back to catch my eyes.
“Can I take you home, Echo?”
The question was so polite, so unnecessary, that I let out a tear-filled laugh. “Yes, Sawyer. Please, take me home.”
Another quick kiss and he carried me through the hallway and up the stairs until we stood at the threshold of my loft.
And for the first time since I could remember, I was nervous.
Nervous about sleeping with a man who owned my heart completely.
15
Sawyer
I set Echo down only long enough to run her a bath. Once the water ran hot enough, I dumped in whatever girly bubble stuff she had sitting on the edge of the clawfoot monstrosity and went back to where she sat at the kitchen table.
“Tell me what I can do,” I said, kneeling down so I was at her eye level. “That guy has no right to rip into you. No right to even set foot in the bar. No right to crawl into your head.”
She swallowed and ran her fingers through my hair. “There’s nothing you can do. Chad is his own worst nightmare. He’ll complete his self-destruct cycle at his own pace.”
“I don’t know how to help you.”
“You can’t,” she said softly.
I stood, then walked back to the bathroom to check the water level while my head spun. Helping was what I did.
Dad walked out? I stepped up and became Mom’s proxy.