Page 111 of Almost Rotten

No more than a minute later, soft footsteps draw closer, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention.

Instead of the effervescent excitement that typically rushes through me in Sawyer’s presence, a slow drip of dread percolates in my gut.

When she enters the kitchen, I can’t bring myself to even look up.

I focus on the risotto, stirring a little too vigorously, willing the extra liquid to absorb slower so I have a little more time.

“Hi.” She wraps her arms around me from behind.

I fight against the urge to sink into her hold.

“That smells amazing,” she praises. “What is it?”

“Risotto,” I say, the word more clipped than I mean for it to be. “It needs to be constantly stirred to be edible.”

A soft hum vibrates through my back. “Noah?”

My best friend ambles into the kitchen. “Right here, honey.”

“Will you take over risotto duty so Mercer doesn’t have an excuse to ignore me?”

My stomach sinks. Busted.

Snickering, Noah crowds my space and snags the wooden spoon from my hand.

When I turn to face Sawyer, she tucks her hair behind both ears and offers me a sympathetic smile. “If I was in your shoes, I’d want to ignore me, too.”

Sighing, I press my fingers into my temple. It’s not that I want to ignore her. It’s just—

“Come on.” She takes my hand and pulls me toward the island. On the other side of the butcher-block counter, she pulls out one barstool and takes a seat.

I consider sitting.

I go as far as pulling out the other stool. But then I promptly shove it back in. I’m far too restless to sit.

She snags my hand again, and I startle, turning her way. Without my permission, my body drifts closer, only stopping when I’m standing between her legs.

As if worried I’ll run away—oh, the irony—she hooks my belt loops and tugs.

“I owe you an apology,” she starts, her head tipped back. “I’ve already apologized to Noah, but I think my actions affected you more than they did him.”

Precisely. Because I protected him from the bulk of this bullshit.

“I pulled away from you, and I wasn’t faithful,” she confesses, peeking up through her sooty lashes to gauge my reaction.

I assumed as much.

It still hurts to hear.

“You and I talked about exclusivity at that first hockey game. Then everything happened between Ty and me.”

Everything.

Everything?

I will not ask if they fucked. I will not ask if they—

“I didn’t have intercourse with him.”