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CHAPTER NINETEEN

SAWYER

I t’s been three days since I dropped Collins off at her place and watched as she disappeared inside her building.

I guess I should’ve seen it coming when I asked her on a date. Getting my hopes up for more than a few hours in her company was ill-advised and fucking naive. Not once had she ever led me on or given the impression that she wanted a relationship. Still, all I needed was for her to relinquish even a modicum of control and trust what I knew we both wanted.

When I had started dating Sophie, I was in my early twenties and a little like Archer is now—into parties and various women. I hadn’t expected to find someone special, but then—bam—I met her one night, and we hit it off in a way I’d never experienced. Our conversations were free and easy, and to my surprise, we both wanted the same thing—a relationship and to see where it took us.

A year later, we were married, and my life had done a complete one-eighty in all the best ways. I had a family in Sophie, including Alyssa and Dom.

When Sophie died, I grew bitter toward the concept of love and a happily ever after. The closest I got to witnessing it was through Kendra and Jack. Those two are meant for each other, like fated mates. I guess I always believed there was one person out there for you, a single personality that matched yours perfectly, like unique puzzle pieces slotting together. And if for any reason you were torn apart, that was it. That was your one chance, gone forever.

That November night, I wasn’t looking for anyone. Dating just wasn’t in the cards for me and especially not with a girl who—in any way, shape, or form—was the complete opposite of Sophie.

Collins has repeatedly told me I’m not her type—despite the fact that she finds me attractive. But the truth is, up until last November, she wasn’t mine either.

Until she was.

With her bratty mouth and free-spirited attitude compared to my calm demeanor and family-oriented life, she thinks we’re incompatible and doesn’t believe two people so opposite could work out. Granted, she hasn’t said those words out loud to me, but I can tell that’s where her head’s at.

The truth is we fit together perfectly. We already proved it.

That one kiss confirmed everything. Even if she wants to deny it, she can’t. I have never shared a kiss like that before. The kind of kiss where you can’t figure out if it’s real or fantasy. The kind of feeling that lasts a lifetime but is over way too soon and you search for the next opportunity to experience it.

When she parted her lips, I felt more in a single stroke of my tongue against hers than I’d thought a brief second in time could offer.

And I know she felt it too.

I told her I was falling because I couldn’t lie, and the moment those words left my mouth, I expected Collins to freak out. I pictured her expressions playing out like a visualization exercise with my sports psych. I saw none of that though—no horror, no panic, not even a flinch—when she let me take her mouth with mine so I could show her just how much I was feeling.

Right now, I should be gutted at her rejection, but I’m not. No-strings sex is the opposite of what I want with Collins and I know that’s not what she wants either.

She asked me if I was going to chase her, and I told her I already was.

Nothing about that statement has changed for me. A fuck-buddy arrangement isn’t going to cut it.

All I need to do is I show her how it could be between us.

And I absolutely fucking will.

I don’t think Collins has ever had a guy put her at the center of his world, and maybe that’s why she’s never felt the pull to stay in one place for longer than a short-term rental agreement.

I want that to change, and I want to be the reason for it. All I have to do is figure out a way to show her that once she drops her anchor somewhere, it’s okay to let it bury itself in the seabed and take root. It’s okay to stand on the shore and watch the tide go out. Sometimes, the biggest waves and the best rides aren’t always the ones taking you out to sea.

“You realize there’s an entire gym full of equipment, right?” Jack strolls over to where I’ve been pounding the treadmill for the past forty minutes.

Deep in my own thoughts, I lost track of time.

I reach out and slow the program to a fast walk, sweat dripping from my forehead and onto the track below.

I don’t reply as I lift my Gatorade from the cupholder, taking a large pull before setting it back down.

“You also realize it’s okay to not wear a shirt when you work out?” He continues talking, inspecting my soaked white Dri-FIT. “Your shirt is pointless since I can already see your nipples.”

The treadmill slows to a cooldown pace, and I draw in a deep breath, concluding I’ve likely gone too hard for what was supposed to be a light conditioning session.

“So, we going to talk about Tuesday night, or are you going to keep us all hanging?” Jack asks right as Archer sidles up beside him, also not wearing a shirt.

With his drink bottle, he points at my chest. “You know that shirt is covering nothing, right?”

I hit Stop on the program and huff out a breath, ripping the shirt over my head in one motion. “Here. Now you have a better view.”

They both smirk like two bratty adolescent twins.

“I didn’t come over to admire your torso, impeccable as it is. I heard the words Tuesday night and took it as my cue to join the conversation.” Archer leans toward me like it’s classified information. “Give us the details. Did you f?—”

“No, I didn’t fuck her by, against, beneath, or anywhere near the tree,” I drawl. “We did talk though.”

“Annnnd?” Archer motions his hand in front of him, asking for more details.

I scrub a palm over my face and step down from the treadmill with my towel and shirt, wrapping them around the back of my neck. Then I grab my bottle of Gatorade. “And we kissed,” I confirm.

I swear I hear a muted shriek of delight from Jack.

“Right before she told me she was down for a no-strings arrangement and nothing more.”

“Nice.” Archer nods. “An ideal situation.”

I deadpan, “Did you hit your head on something and completely forget our conversation last week?”

“Are you gonna go for it then?” Jack cuts in before Archer can respond. “The fuck-buddy arrangement?”

I shake my head and walk over to the Olympic bar. Archer drops his bottle and automatically gets in position to spot me.

“Nope.”

Throwing my bottle, towel and shirt on the floor next to me, I complete the first rep, holding the bar above my head for a couple of seconds.

“I’m not going to sleep with her again until she admits she wants more than just sex.”

I complete the next rep, and Archer takes the weight, allowing me a chance to look at my center.

Eyes wide and a hand cupping his jaw, Jack waits for me to continue.

I sit up on the bench as Archer drops the bar back onto the rack.

“The kiss was … it was pretty fucking special, and I’m not about to walk away from something like that. I’m not moronic enough to do that.”

“Do you think she feels the same?” Jack asks, expression full of concern, and I know it’s for me and because he cares. “If she told you she didn’t want to get into anything after you kissed, then is there a chance she doesn’t feel the same?”

“I also told her I was falling, and she didn’t freak out at that. In fact”—I rub my palms down my black athletic shorts—“that was right before we kissed.”

“So, you think she’s playing hard to get?” Archer says, coming to stand in front of me.

“Nah. She doesn’t know what to do with it—with the fact that I want her and she wants me. It’s all alien to her.” I release a deep chuckle and pick up my Gatorade, taking a sip. “Hell, this feels alien to me. I haven’t felt like this since …” I trail off.

“Sophie?” Archer finishes for me.

I nod once. “Yeah.”

Jack scratches at his chest. “So, what are you going to do?”

My cheeks ache from the smile spreading across my face, and they both mirror my expression.

“What any decent guy who wants a girl would do—engineer as many opportunities as possible to show her why I’m exactly what she wants but is denying.”

Jack raises his brows, excitement rolling off him. “Can we be of any help with your plans?”

I push a hand through my damp hair, thinking over my options. “Do you know if Collins is coming to the game tomorrow night?”

“I don’t know,” he replies. “But I can make it so that she does.”

Ezra rarely comes to the arena anymore, although he does like going to the Scorpions games since they’re our rivals and fights usually break out on the ice—the perfect opportunity for him to wave his foam finger around. Because Dom’s a sucker for a rivalry, he and Alyssa will no doubt come along and Ezra stays with them on game nights anyway. Last-minute tickets to the family box are easy to secure when you’re the captain.

A part of me feels uneasy about him seeing Collins, but he also thinks we’re friends—at least I hope we’re that right now. If she vanished from his life completely, he’d ask questions and likely be hurt. Plus, I know she’d miss him too. And those thoughts drive me forward.

“Okay, great,” I reply. “The plan is to clinch the W on the ice and head to Lloyd’s straight after.”