Page 41 of Almost Ravaged (Men of Evercrisp Orchard #1)
Chapter thirty-five
Sawyer
L eaves crunch beneath my trainers as I trek toward the ice arena for my afternoon shift. It’s an idyllic autumn afternoon, with a constant breeze and the kind of chill in the air that elicits the best kind of shivers.
The whole way there, I keep my face tilted up, relishing the warmth of the sun on my skin. It’s that time of year when layers are a must, which means I’m once again shamelessly wearing Noah’s flannel over my requisite uniform.
As I tug on the cuffs and fold my fingers over to hold them in place, I admit to myself that before long, I’ll need gloves, a scarf, and a real coat for treks across campus.
A bit of tenderness tugs at my heart as I sidestep a group of students with their noses buried in their phones. It’s a perfect, quintessential fall day, and they’re missing it.
I tip my head back toward the sky again, savoring the sunshine behind closed eyelids. Already, the sun sets too early for my liking. I’m more aware of it now than ever before since I’m watching the weather ahead of next week’s visit to the orchard .
A student suggested we capture an overnight time-lapse, starting before sunset and ending after sunrise. Because none of this will happen during operating hours, Mercer and I agreed that I should set up the camera and take it down the next morning.
A thrill shoots through me at the thought of another visit to the orchard. Setup won’t take more than a few minutes, but I’m already eagerly hoping I’ll bump into the reserved owner when I’m there on Friday night.
The more I get to know Noah, though, the more I realize that the term reserved doesn’t really describe him that well. Yes, he can be grumpy. Even downright cantankerous on occasion. But he’s also protective and deeply caring.
Just like Edna said: he’s sweet as pie on the inside, where it counts.
I lift a hand to my lips, my mind wandering to yesterday’s experience with the bees. Again. To the passionate way he talked about them. To the way he held out the honeycomb and told me to suck.
Every nerve ending in my body came to life as I tasted the honey, liquid lust flooding my senses when his full attention was locked on me.
It was bold, and probably a little reckless, the way I sucked his thumb into my mouth, pushing him further. But it felt right in that moment.
Had my phone alarm not sounded, I’m certain he would have kissed me.
He was right there. We were so close.
Hence my eagerness to get back to the orchard and rewrite the ending to that specific story.
I haven’t stopped thinking about him all day. I fell asleep thinking about our almost-kiss, then woke up with the taste of honey on my lips and the feel of his finger pressing down on my tongue.
With his voice in my ear, whispering “fuck it.” His loss of control sent a thrill through me.
The idea of taking things further with him causes warmth to gather in my belly.
Could he be interested in a casual situation?
Or would he want something more serious?
I chew on my lip as I consider all the ways it could go. He seems like more of a relationship type of guy, and although I don’t know his exact age, he’s significantly older than me. Does that mean he wants more from a partner than what I’d be willing to give ?
I’ve always had a thing for older men. The way he gets flustered makes me wonder if he’s not as experienced as I am.
My gut tells me he’d be slow and gentle at first. Hesitant even.
A current pulses up my spine as I imagine pushing to get him to really open up, to unleash that gruff, domineering side he showed me a glimpse of in the apiary.
What I wouldn’t give to hear him growl “fuck it” again.
I’m still thinking about Noah as I approach the arena. I grasp the handle, the icy metal sending a shiver through me, but before I can pull the door open and step into the warm building, the bright light of the sun is snuffed out by a large shadow.
“Hey, Sawy. Didn’t know you were working today.”
I whirl around and come face to face with my brother and Ty.
“Atty!”
I throw my arms around his neck and squeeze, suddenly realizing how long it’s been since I last saw him.
I’m guaranteed to see Ty a few days a week in class or at the orchard, although all our interactions since the night at the Ledges have been stilted and painfully formal. A lot of that’s on me. I’m trying to maintain some semblance of space between us.
Despite my desire for a bit of distance, he still insists on walking me to class, and he’s always coming up with excuses to visit me at the rental counter.
He’s been friendlier to the arena staff over the last few weeks, too.
Arjun even came close to convincing him to try his latest creation, the Bazooka Bologna Blitz, a few days ago.
With a laugh, my brother kisses my head. Then he backs away, his hands up. “Settle down, sis. You’re acting like we haven’t seen each other in weeks.”
Ty holds the door, and as I pass him, I glance back at my brother, a brow cocked. “Good night texts and random memes to the group chat don’t count as staying in touch, bro.”
He shrugs. “You know how it is. Things are only going to get busier when the season begins.”
I chance a peek at Tytus, but he’s not looking my way.
I consider reaching for him—going as far as to lift my still-freezing fingers—but retreat before I can make contact.
What the fuck, Sawyer ?
I promised myself that I was done holding on to this masochist hope that the two of us could ever be more than friends.
Old habits die hard, I guess.
This limbo we’ve lived in for so long isn’t fair to either of us. It’s a perpetual cycle. A hamster wheel of unexplored desires. No one is at fault, but there’s a reason things never go further. An enormous, insurmountable reason.
It’s nothing short of heartbreaking, what happened to my parents. Then there’s his dad. Not to mention the innocence we lost that night. We have too much baggage, and we’ve let too many opportunities pass us by.
It doesn’t matter where we are or what the circumstances entail. Ty and I will always be linked, but we won’t ever be truly connected. Our foundation is held together with too much toxicity. With too many cracks and more rot in the crevices than even the strongest love could dispel.
It’s time to put the fantasy to rest, once and for all.
I haven’t been totally consumed by it over the last few years.
When we were apart, I hooked up with plenty of people.
Getting lost in another person is my favorite coping mechanism.
Losing myself in giving and receiving pleasure and leaving it at that.
Casual is my MO.
Yet casual is the opposite of what I’d share with Tytus, if the universe ever stopped fucking with us.
There would be no easing into things. We could never be casual, and we’d have to tell Atticus right away.
We’d have to face our demons, individually and together, as we were thrust into a full-blown relationship riddled with messy history.
At the end of the day, I’m not sure Ty even wants a relationship with me. When we’re together, when it’s convenient, sure, he seems interested. But he could have kissed me at the Ledges, yet he didn’t.
That thought hits me hard. Damn. Suddenly, I’m really fucking tired of not being kissed. I need to rectify this trend sooner rather than later.
“Earth to Sawyer.”
I turn back to Atty, realizing then that Ty is halfway to the locker room, his back turned to us.
My stomach sinks. “Is he—”
“He’s been insufferable this week.” My brother frowns. “I can’t get him to talk to me. Hoping it’ll pass once we’re into the groove.”
I bite my lip, all my complicated romantic feelings cast aside and replaced with worry .
“Don’t do that,” Atty murmurs. He knows me too well. Hell, he can probably feel the anxiety rolling off me. “He’ll be okay. I’ll make sure of it.”
“Yeah, okay.” I shake off the trepidation and clock in, then fall into step with my brother. “Let’s get dinner this week, the three of us.”
“You got it. I’ll talk to Ty and text you tonight.” He holds up one hand to wave goodbye and takes off toward the locker room. “Have a good shift.”
I head to the skate rental counter but can’t shake the feeling that I should be doing more to support Ty. His demons are as dark as mine, some even darker, older. If he’s struggling, I don’t want him to go through it alone.
But I can’t let my concern for him consume me.
I have my own life to live, my own hopes and dreams to pursue.
We knew this transition would be challenging.
We knew being thrown together would stir up old hurts.
This is still the early stage. It’ll take time to learn how to live without stress, to acclimate to this new life, after everything we’ve survived.
Tytus will be okay. Eventually. I will be, too.
We just have to figure out how to get to that place and stay there, once and for all.