Sawyer (Carolina Reapers 2)

“Definitely,” I said, speaking for everyone.

“Have a good time, sugar!” Coraline called as we followed the waitress through a mishmash of tables and high-tops until we reached a set of roped-off stairs. Two minutes and we were upstairs settling into the vintage couches and chairs Coraline had decorated the area with. The balcony overlooked the stage, creating the perfect view for the show.

“This seat taken?” Sawyer asked, eyeing the empty space next to me on the small, lush sofa I’d sat on.

“It is,” I said, arching a brow at him.

“Who’s the lucky asshole?”

“Oh, he’s not an asshole,” I cooed. “He happens to be the smartest, sexiest, sweetest boy I ever did meet.” I stood up, trailing my fingers over the soft-cotton T-shirt that stretched tight over his muscled chest.

His hand easily slipped around my waist and to the small of my back. “That southern drawl, Echo,” he practically growled. “It does things to me.”

He did things to me.

Had done things to me.

Turned me into a love-struck swooning woman.

Two weeks of nothing but pure bliss and this man still sent my heart racing whenever he was within five feet of me.

“What do you think of the place?” I asked, tugging him to sit next to me.

Cannon, Logan, and Connell had taken over the two Victorian couches at the farthest end of the balcony, the Scotsman already sipping his first drink. Lukas, Faith, Noble, Harper, Langley and Axel were scattered among the chaises and high-backed chairs in the middle of the balcony, accepting the champagne Coraline had sent up. Laughing and talking and applauding as the band wrapped up another number.

Not one stranger in here would be able to look at the group and see anything other than one awesome unit—a family chosen not by blood, but by bond. Brothers of the ice, sisters through marriage—it was beautiful, breathtaking. And I was beyond lucky to get a taste of it.

Because it won’t last.

I flinched against the traitorous voice in my head. Cringed against the bitch who had tried to ruin these past two weeks for me. Tried to tear down my happiness by reminding me over and over again that Sawyer’s world wasn’t mine—wasn’t anything close to what I was used to—and I didn’t belong in his.

“It’s incredible,” Sawyer whispered in my ear, answering the question I’d already forgotten I’d asked, but successfully grounding me in the present. Taking me away from the darkness in my mind. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from you.”

I smiled, easy and helpless against Sawyer’s charm. He never made me feel self-conscious, never criticized me or spoke down to me. He built me up whenever I doubted myself, and he drew me away from the edge when I was certain I’d topple over. I’d never had that before, let alone the full family support that came along with him. It was…otherworldly almost. But something I knew I could sink into, if I let myself.

“How old is this building?” he asked, tucking me into his side after we’d both accepted a flute of champagne from our waitress.

“Over eighty years,” I answered before taking a sip of the bubbly.

“Nice,” he said. “You know all the best places around here.”

I shrugged. “Comes from growing up here and never leaving.”

He furrowed his brow. “You don’t travel?”

“I have,” I said. “But not as much as I probably should’ve before opening a bar.”

He smiled. “I know it’s your baby, but the bar isn’t like an actual baby, you know? You could hire a manager to run things if you wanted to go on vacation. Or, say, see an away game. Or any game at all.”

I gaped at him before lightly shoving his chest. “Game nights are my most profitable nights!”

“Same for me,” he teased.

I sighed. “I’m sorry I couldn’t make it the last time you invited me. Hayley was sick, or I would’ve shown up. I’d love to see you on the ice someday.”

His gray eyes flashed. “I like the sound of someday.”

Sawyer knew me down to my core—knew I was still getting used to this relationship thing. Still opening up to the idea that I’d fallen for him on a level that terrified me. Scared me because everything I’d ever loved had been taken from me or had chosen to leave. Hell, that was the main reason I never left the bar. I had a great staff and at least three employees that I could promote to manager but I was afraid if I left for too long, I’d come back to nothing but ashes.

“Does it bother you that I don’t come to your games?” I asked. “Bother you that I’m not in the family box with the other queens? Wearing your jersey?”

He shifted against the sofa. “You wearing my jersey any time would be hot,” he said. “And no, Echo, it doesn’t bother me. I respect your business. I understand how much game nights bring in. And I take great pride in knowing how much me being on that screen distracts you from all your hard work.”