Page 21 of Infatuated as They Come (Sinful Trilogy #2)

“Because.” I gave him a gentle push into one of the chairs. “Look how late it is! It’s nearly eight! You’ve been gone for fifteen hours! I had cheer practice, two lectures, two classes, talked to your cousin on the phone, went to the library, bought groceries, and I still got home way before you.”

“You had a busy day,” he deadpanned.

I groaned as I stormed into the kitchen to heat his food up in the microwave. “What kind of auto shop is this? How many cars are you even fixing? Because no one’s supposed to even drive in this city.”

“I know, it’s a mystery.”

I turned around, and suddenly he was right there in the doorway, one shoulder leaning up against it. “No! Get out. Go sit.”

“Why are you being so weird?” He laughed, and I hated that I could hear some tiredness seeping into that sound too, like he was strained from top to bottom, from the inside and out. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong is that you’re working stupid crazy hours. You’re pushing yourself too much.”

“Well, how else would we live here? You don’t like it here? Is that it?” His voice got all low, the tone teasing. “Do you miss your mansion, princess?”

I grabbed his plate of pasta from the microwave.

“No.” I scoffed. “I do not miss my mansion. And I love it here. I love living with you. It’s just that you’re pushing yourself too hard, and I know you’re doing it for me.

I don’t like the idea of you spending all of that money you earn on rent. Rent money is dead money.”

“You sound like your dad.”

“Ew. Don’t say that.” One hand holding the plate, I used my other to drag him back over to the dining room.

“What’d you make? It smells good.”

“Pasta.”

“What kind?”

“Just eat it.”

“You gonna give me short answers all night?”

“Aren’t you tired of having to look after yourself?” I blurted out as I pushed him into a chair. “I know you’ve been doing it your whole life and I know it probably feels weird to just follow your dreams.”

He snorted. “Follow my dreams?”

“You know what I mean!” I said, teeth gritted. “You could just quit tomorrow and paint every day.”

“Holly, come on.” Head thrown back slightly, he groaned. “Not this again.”

“I’m not saying this stuff to annoy you.”

“I know.”

“So let me do it. Let me worry about the money and then you can worry about doing what you love.”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because. ”

“Because I’m a girl and you’re a guy?” I asked. “Because of what genitals we have?”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “I need you to never say genitals ever again.”

I huffed. “Will you take this seriously please?”

“You just made me really uncomfortable.”

“Fine. I won’t ever say it again. Will you be an adult about this now?”

“You can say cock,” he said, hand cupping my cheek while his thumb ran across my bottom lip. “It’s hot when you say cock.”

“Stop!” I cried out. “Stop joking around.”

“Okay, okay.” Laughing, he held his hands up. “Holly, look, you just don’t get it.”

“What’s there to get? Call your boss up right now and quit and I’ll pay rent for the rest of the lease. I can do it in five minutes.”

“You can’t do that,” he said firmly.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s illegal to pay more than a month’s worth of rent in New York.”

I frowned at him. “No, it’s not.”

“Yeah, it is. I looked it up ‘cause I knew you’d pay for the whole fuckin’ thing if that was an option.”

“That’s not even true…” I quickly grabbed my laptop from the couch and looked it up and God, of course he was right. “Damn it.”

“Well, what does it say?”

I snapped my MacBook shut. “It doesn’t matter.”

He laughed, head shaking as he twirled some of the spaghetti on his fork. “Holly, what do you want me to do? I can’t not work. Even if I let you pay for rent, what would I do then? Just sit around all day and paint?”

“Yes.”

Pausing, he raised an eyebrow up at me. “And you think I’m gonna make a heap of money straight away or something?”

“Uh, yeah. You’re the most talented painter I know.”

“How many do you know?”

“Will you please take this seriously? I just want good things for you,” I said, eyes on the table. “You deserve good things. ”

“And I appreciate that. I do. Everything’s already good, though. I’ve got you, don’t I?” he said, one hand landing on my thigh. “And I’m pretty sure you’re all I need to be happy.”

“Don’t you wanna do other stuff? Stuff that doesn’t revolve around me?”

“Not really.”

“Don’t you want to paint?”

“I do paint.”

“You’re not doing it full time.”

Leaning back against the chair, Sawyer’s shoulders tensed up that tiny bit. “I already told you: that’s not an option for me.”

“Well, I can make it an option for you, but you won’t let me.”

“Because I don’t need you to make it an option for me, Holly,” he said, and there was frustration in his voice that hadn’t been there a second ago as he picked up his fork again.

He moved his other hand from my thigh, pushing it through his thick locks, and I instantly missed his touch on me.

“Don’t you understand that? I’m okay with how things are.

Going to work, painting when I have the chance?

I’m fine with that. I need you to be fine with it too.

I know you have good intentions. I get where you’re coming from, but it feels like you don’t get where I’m coming from. ”

“I do. You think I’m some spoiled rich girl who doesn’t know what it means to struggle, but if I can take away your struggles, then shouldn’t I do that? Shouldn’t you let me?”

A sharp sigh left him as he dropped his fork to the plate, his hands scraping over his face. “Holly, has anyone ever told you that you have your head in the clouds?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’ve never had to worry about money, about work, about… life. About waking up the next day and wondering if you’ve got enough cash to make sure the lights don’t go out.”

“I know that.” I pressed a hand to my chest. “I know how privileged I am.”

“Do you?”

The words caught me off guard, my lips parting as I searched for the right thing to say. And all I could manage was a mumbled, “Yes, of course. ”

“Then why don’t you get that things don’t always work out for everyone? You’ve got a safety net. You’ve got a million safety nets. I don’t have anything.”

“You don’t need to worry about that.”

“You’re not listening. Holly, I like working.

I told you. I like the people there and I like fixing stuff and I like painting when I have the time.

That’s how it is for most people. Most people can’t drop everything and paint all day without worrying about money.

That’s what…” He gestured a hand my way.

“People like you do. They pick it up as a hobby, paint one thing, get bored and move on to the next expensive hobby they have. I can’t do that.

I can’t put all of my effort into just painting, because it might not work out. If it doesn’t work out, then what?”

“Then… I don’t know…” I was suddenly fumbling with my words. “No, it’ll work out.”

“Exactly, see. You could start painting tomorrow. You could make no money, move on, and it still wouldn’t matter.

You’d still have a shit ton of money left to rely on.

Holly, you could drop out of college right now and you’d be fine.

It’s not the same for me. You need to get that.

I can’t just quit my job and… follow my dreams .

It doesn’t work that way in the real world.

I’ll paint when I can. When I have time, on the weekends and stuff.

That’s okay with me. That’s how I did it before.

That’s how life works for everyone else. ”

My hands landed on one of the napkins on the table, fidgeting with the linen. “Well, what’s gonna happen then? You’re just gonna work until I finish college?”

“That’s what everyone else does. You think everyone’s got some handy trust fund they can rely on?”

“No.” I let out an annoyed breath. “You think I don’t get it, but I do. You’re out all day slaving away—”

“Slaving away? Holly, it’s a job . I know you’ve never had one before but it’s not as bad as it sounds. It’s hard work, but I’m used to it. We can’t all get cushy jobs where we sit down all day.”

“I’m just saying that it’s not fair that I have all this money and then you’re… Yo u’re…”

“Poor?” he offered.

My eyes closed at the word. “No.”

“You can say it. I know what I am. And that means I can’t take big risks. It’s not that easy. I can’t drop everything and just stop working because you don’t like me having a job.”

“I don’t care if you have a job. I care about all the sacrifices you’re making and that you’re making so many.”

“They’re not sacrifices. This is just what the real world is. You’ve never seen it before because you’ve never had to live it. I need you to understand.”

“I do understand.”

“I don’t think you do.”

I said nothing to that. We ate in an awkward, uncomfortable, stupid silence and then Sawyer did the dishes before I even had the chance to touch them. He disappeared into the bathroom a little while later, the sound of the shower soft in the air as I forced myself to finish up my school stuff.

Sawyer stayed quiet when he came back out, his hair wet and his eyes avoiding mine. We were both too stubborn to break the silence. That had been one of the biggest reasons we never got along in the past. We were both too bullheaded when it came to each other.

Sawyer made his way into the bedroom, still not saying a single word to me while I packed up all my school stuff, setting it aside neatly for tomorrow.

Then I finally moved into the bedroom too.

It felt stupid keeping my lips firmly pressed together as I got changed into my pajamas, completely skipping my nighttime skincare routine out of pure annoyance.