Page 4 of Total Shutdown

Plus, he has a big dick, so that’s something.

I roll over, facing away from Sawyer as he breathes softly into the bedroom.

Blue ceiling.

Yeah, I’m outta here.

Gently, I pull the duvet back and swing a leg out to the side, my foot meeting his solid wood flooring.

Thankfully, Sawyer stays asleep as I creep to the en suite on the opposite side of his room, grabbing my bag, dress, and underwear from the trunk at the foot of the bed. I pull the door open, stepping onto the heated white tiles.

I look like a fucking shit show—eyeliner smeared across my face and bedhead for days.

Unzipping my black shoulder bag, I find a pack of tissues and hold one under the running faucet, waiting for the warm water to kick in.

My left eye is worse than the right, and slowly, I manage to clean up my face before throwing the tissue into the trash.

“You promised yourself you weren’t going to do this,” I whisper into the dimly lit room, the only light filtering in from the Brooklyn streets outside.

Motionless, I stare at the running faucet, the flow of water mesmerizing and comforting. Everything Sawyer said last night was the truth; he doesn’t know me, and I hardly know him. He’s thirty-five and the captain of the New York Blades with a twelve-year-old son, and his wife died over seven years ago. That’s it. That’s literally the extent of my knowledge about this man, the majority of which I learned from other people. Oh, and he likes IPA, but only has one pint after a game and then moves on to soda.

I’d say I know his dick better than the person it’s attached to.

But I’d be lying if I claimed my closed-off nature wasn’t by design. Not just with Sawyer or any other guy I sleep with, but when it comes to everyone. I move from place to place and take temporary jobs before I move on again. My New York era is the longest I’ve spent anywhere since my childhood, and I’d say that’s, in part, thanks to my closest friend and the girl I randomly met at Lloyd’s last November. Kendra Hart is the one person I’ve connected with the most since my grandparents died and the main reason I renewed the lease on my apartment for another six months, although that’s now on a rolling contract.

I like her. She’s cool. That said, she is one hundred percent to blame for tonight. Without Kendra, I wouldn’t have seen Sawyer beyond that first night. And I wouldn’t be standing here, confused as to how average sex could leave me feeling some kind of way the next morning.

I don’t sleep with a lot of guys, and the ones I do, I carefully select them to be sure they have a shared interest in going no further than a cock-in-pussy situation.

Sawyer Bryce doesn’t meet my stipulation of no-strings fun. I knew that from the second I set eyes on him last fall, and that reality has become painfully more obvious with every sideways glance and look we’ve shared since. He makes me … nervous, eliciting tingles not even my ex-boyfriend, Mike, could achieve. Huh, and, boy, was he an asshole—two years of my early twenties I’ll never get back.

So, I guess you could say I don’t trust easily, but more importantly, I don’t want to. The only love affair I’m interested in pursuing is the one I have with my Harley-Davidson motorcycle.

Turning off the faucet, I root around in my bag and find a tie, securing my shoulder-length hair into a loose knot, and then I twist a few strands around my fingers until they frame my face.

“Hey, you okay?” Sawyer’s deep voice permeates the silence.

I spin around to face the closed door, hands already reaching for my dress.

Stepping into it, I quickly do up the zip, foregoing underwear completely as I shove my bra and panties into my bag and close it.

“Collins?” Sawyer speaks again, his voice sounding kind of concerned.

I grab my bag and reach for the handle, quickly pulling the door open.

“Whoa, Jesus, fuck!”

Sawyer practically lands on his face as he falls forward. He was clearly holding his weight against the door.

I bite my lip and fight back laughter as his right arm flies up and grips the doorjamb, steadying himself.

“You know, it’s generally unwise to rely so heavily on something that could move at any time, with or without your knowledge.”

He narrows his eyes at me. “Is that right?”

His gaze travels the length of my body, and I ignore the tingles that resurface.

“Why are you dressed?”