by Emma Nichole
I can see the sadness blended with happiness at the memory building in her eyes in a mixture of tears and smiles.
“Jason was twelve at the time, and since he couldn’t actually skydive, there was only one option. Indoor skydiving.”
“That’s a thing?” I ask.
“It is. It’s this big, cylindrical tower with a giant fan in the floor. They put you in all the gear, let you step inside, turn on the fan and up you go. Anyway, my parents surprised Jason with a chance to do it while we were on vacation. I don’t think I had ever seen him so happy.”
I squeeze her ankle then rub from there up her calf and back down mindlessly, comforting her. “I can see the memory in your eyes. Your face is lighting up thinking about it.”
“It’s nice to remember him like that.”
“If it’s too much, you don’t have to tell me. You can tell me to mind my own fucking business and that’ll be the end of it, but… what happened to him?”
She stares down into her glass, which has now built up a bit of condensation and slides her thumb over it, sweeping away some of the droplets.
“He got into the wrong crowd and started doing things he shouldn’t. Stealing, fighting… drugs. Long story short, drugs placed him in a situation he shouldn’t have been in and that was it.”
My gut tells me there is so much more to this story that she isn’t telling me, but it’s not my business to push any further. She was brave enough to share that much, and that’s all I can ask for.
“Jesus, Sawyer, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay. I miss him so much every single day, but I have to live life for him now. That’s what I’m doing.” She holds her head high as she talks about him. It’s like she has to force herself though because I can see in her eyes how sad she really is.
“That’s very admirable.”
“Don’t let it fool you. I’m broken because of it and I have my bad days.”
“Like the day I saw you in your car after running at the track?” I say before thinking it through.
Her eyes lock on mine, and she nods. “Yes.”
“I swear I wasn’t spying on you or staring. I just looked over and there you were.”
“It’s okay. I didn’t expect to cry. It hits me sometimes out of nowhere and over the silliest things, as you know after what happened at school.”
“I wanted to come over and make sure you were okay that day, but it didn’t feel like the time.”
“I had just talked to my mom and that really brings it out sometimes,” she sighs. “I don’t like people seeing me cry. It makes me feel anything but strong.”
I slide my hand up her leg to where her hands are resting in her lap, wrapped around her nearly empty glass and take it from her, placing it on the coaster next to mine.
There is something about this woman pulling me in slowly, more and more every day, and I don’t want to fight it. Not even a little.
“You’re a very strong, capable woman. You shouldn’t be hiding in your car or in your classroom to cry all alone. Own what hurts you and know that crying doesn’t make you weak. It makes you human.”
She opens her hand and our fingers slide together, link, and fold into one another. I bring our joined hands up to my mouth and place a kiss to her middle knuckle.
“I like you a lot,” she says in a near whisper. “It’s scary, actually. I never expected to like you so fast.”
“What a coincidence,” I say, as I slide my free hand under her knee and tug her to sit sideways across my lap. “I like you a lot too.”
With roaming hands, never slipping underneath the barrier of our clothes, we kiss right here on her sofa in a mix of lips, tongues, teeth, soft breaths, and moans for the remainder of the evening until we both fall asleep curled together in the crook of the plush cushions.
It’s sensual without sex.
It’s intimate without losing our clothes.
It’s simply… perfect.
***
The sun slices through the window and over my face, pulling me from one of the most restful sleeps I’ve had in a while. I can still feel the weight of a sleeping Sawyer draped half on top of me, and I wouldn’t change that for the world.
I blink a couple times, trying to find my bearings, when I feel eyes on me. I tilt my gaze to the back of the sofa to find a very large, black and gray cat sitting there, staring down at me like I am public enemy number one.
“Umm, hi,” I say, and I swear this cat’s eyes get even smaller in a pure “I’m watching you, pal” gaze.
Sawyer inhales deeply and moves just a bit before I hear her quite voice, “What’s wrong?”
I whisper, “I think your cat is going to murder me.”
She sits up on her elbow and stares the cat down, “Oh my God, Herbert, get out of here.”
She waves him away and he just meows in response, still standing his ground.
“Herbert?”
“This is my cat, Herbert. He’s a bit of an asshole. He was hiding last night, apparently.”
“Herbert,” I say again, reaching up to pet him, but he dodges my touch and meows again.
“He isn’t exactly a people person, and he’s probably hungry.” She laughs as she pushes to sit up completely. “He’s been this way since day one. I got him from a rescue a few years ago, and he’s always after food.”
“Ah. He thinks I’m halting the progress of his breakfast.” I shift a bit, bringing my arm under my head to rest back against it.
“And as a fellow food motivated individual, I can understand the annoyance he has,” she giggles.
“What are your plans today?” I ask her, sliding my hand up and down her back.
“I’m supposed to be having dinner with Olivia tonight. She wants to do one of those wine and painting things and grab Chinese food before.”
“If she gets you for dinner, can I take you to breakfast?”
“I think I’d like that a lot.”
I cup the side of her face and press a gentle kiss to her lips, which is quickly halted by Herbert’s very loud and overly aggressive meow.
Sawyer pulls away with a huff, “Good God, Herb, I’m going, I’m going.”
She climbs from the couch and stretches, giving me quite the view of the curves of her body. She is goddamned perfect, all curves and softness, and beautiful skin. There isn’t a stitch of makeup on her face and her hair is a bit messy, but she could put any other woman to shame just as she is right now.
She catches me staring and a pink blush washes up her chest to her cheeks.
“What?” she asks.
“Just staring,” I say proudly. “And I’m wondering if you have plans two weekends from now?”
Chapter 11
Sawyer
“Wait, so you’re going away with him for a weekend?” Olivia asks with forkful of salad paused halfway to her mouth.
We are sitting in the teacher’s lounge together during the lunch period, thankful for a bit of reprieve on this chaotic Monday.
“I am.” I take my own bite. “Is it a bad thing?”
She shakes her head. “No, I’m just surprised is all. You know I’ve been pushing you to put yourself out there since we first met.”
“If it were just going to be him and me, alone, on this trip, I would probably have a different opinion of it, but it’s for his friend’s wedding. He needs a date, so I was happy to say yes.”
If I’m being honest with myself, I would probably still go even if it was just him and me, but I’d have to really think first. I just like being with him. It’s easy and there is no expectation or drama.
“Why didn’t you mention it when we went out Saturday night?”
I shrug. “I guess I just wanted to make sure I actually wanted to go before I mentioned it to anyone else. When I realized the excitement was staying, I decided to mention it.”
“And you all haven’t… you know… yet?” she asks with raised eyebrows.
“No.” I shake my head. “W
e’ve just kissed, and those are just as good.”
“Bullshit. That’s just not true at all. You just haven’t had sex in a while,” Liv teases.
“You haven’t made out with Isaac Black.”
“That good, huh?”
“You have no idea.”
“Are you nervous? Overnight trips like that usually lead to sex, especially at weddings. Those make everyone horny.”
I would be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about it. Hell, having sex with Isaac enters my mind six hundred times a day. I knew when I agreed to go away with him I was essentially agreeing to sleep with him, or at least be open to the idea if our time together leaned that way.
“I am nervous, but not like I expected to be. It’s more of an excited nervous. I’ve never been to Napa and I have an excuse to dress up and dance with a hot guy. It’s formal attire.”
“You know what that means.”
“What?”
“We have to go dress shopping!” Liv exclaims and claps her hands.
Isaac
“You invited her to Napa? Seriously?”
“Don’t sound so shocked, Finn.”
He cracks open the peanut in his hand and tosses the shells into the basket at the end of our table. “Why not? You never introduce girls to all of us at once. We are lucky if one of us gets to meet someone you’re with.”
“I’m not with her. We are just, I don’t know, seeing what happens.”
“Sounds like something a pussy-whipped asshole would say.”
“Hard to be pussy-whipped without the pussy.”
“You still haven’t fucked her? Jesus, man, who are you, and what have you done with my friend?”
I point at him. “Watch it.”
“Fine, fine.” Finn looks around, as the bar grows more and more crowded. “Where’s Caleb? He’s been in the bathroom for fifteen minutes.”
“Maybe he fell in.”
“Nah, we aren’t that lucky.”
I laugh and swallow a gulp of beer. “I told Christopher I was bringing someone. He was just as shocked as you.”
Christopher went to high school with all of us. We were all extremely close, hell, if he lived closer, he’d be here with us anytime we came.
“I still can’t believe he’s getting married.”
“Right? It’s like saying Caleb is going to get married. I never thought anyone would tame Christopher, but I guess Danielle is gifted as hell.”
As if we summoned him by saying his name too many times, Caleb sinks into his seat with a huge smile on his face and lipstick marks on his neck.
“Why are we talking about me?” he asks, and Finn and I just stare at him. “What?”
“How the fuck do you do it? We haven’t been here thirty minutes and you’re already banging some chick in the bathroom?” Finn praises him, “Tell me your ways, Yoda.”
“My secrets, you need not,” Caleb replies, then sips his beer. “Besides, it wasn’t a random person. It was Staci. She needed it; I needed it. We understood.”
Ah yes, Staci, the server he fucks frequently when we come by for drinks.
“You’re an animal,” I tell him. “And we were talking about the fact it’s weird Christopher is getting married.”
“We were also talking about the fact Isaac is bringing a date to stay the weekend up in Napa for said wedding.”
Caleb chokes on a mouthful of beer and coughs. “What?”
“You all are making this a bigger deal than it needs to be. So what if I’m bringing a girl? I’m allowed, aren’t I? So fuck off.” I glare at both of them. “And if you do anything to make her uncomfortable, I’ll kick your asses, got it?”
“Why would we do anything to make her feel uncomfortable? Come on, man, we are the lives of the party and everyone likes us,” Finn says.
“Exactly. We’ll make her, whoever she is, feel right at home,” Caleb adds.
“Yeah, that’s what I’m worried about.”
Chapter 12
Isaac
Two weeks flew by in a flash.
One minute, I was talking to the guys about bringing a date with me to Napa and the next; I’m stepping onto the train for the ride up with Sawyer’s hand in mine.
“I’ve never ridden a train before,” she says with wide eyes. “This is amazing and so fancy.”
The train from the Bay Area up to Napa Valley is one of the nicer train experiences. It really leans heavily into the luxe feeling the entire area has. After taking the ferry across the Bay, we were shuttled to the train, and I have to say, having Sawyer with me feels perfect.
“We are meeting a couple of my buddies. They’re sitting with us. I’m sorry for anything they say ahead of time. They can be… a lot.”
“I like when people are a lot. It keeps me on my toes.”
“You haven’t met Finn and Caleb yet.”
We weave through the other passengers, toward the back of the main car, where we find my two best friends sitting next to each other, already nursing a scotch each.
“Early start, fellas?” I slide my hand to lie on the small of Sawyer’s back. I know Caleb will know who she is, considering they work together, and to be honest, I’m proud as fuck to have her by my side right now.
“You know it,” Finn says, rising to his feet to introduce himself. “I’m Finn.” He extends his hand to Sawyer.
She takes it gladly. “Finn. I like that name. I’m Sawyer. It’s really nice to meet you.”
Caleb is up next; he rises just as Finn. “Sawyer Westbrook. Holy shit.”
“Caleb Everhart? Oh my God. You’re Isaac’s Caleb?”
“And you’re the mystery date,” Caleb replies. “Wow. It’s a small world.”
“You can say that again.” She lets out a chuckle, visibly loosening up a little since she isn’t completely new to everyone.
We slide in to take our seats across from them. The sides of the train car are glass all the way to the roof and partially above you in order to provide the perfect view up to the Napa Valley. Sawyer is looking around in wonder, and the alpha male inside of me is proud she’s experiencing things like this with me.
An attendant, a young man with a pristine blue bowtie, appears at our sides quickly, asking us which type of wine or beverage we’d like for our ride. Sawyer opts for the favorite of the attendant, who has introduced himself as Lucas, which is a sweet white, while I opt for a Maker’s Mark neat.
“So how did you two meet?” Caleb asks, motioning between the two of us.
Sawyer looks my way then decides to answer him for the both of us. “I bumped into him at the Harvest Festival and spilled hot chocolate all over him.”
“Ruined a perfectly good shirt,” I tease.
“And then he basically stalked me and forced me to go on a date with him. A few dates later, here we are,” Sawyer says, as she smiles up to Lucas when he returns with our drinks.
“That part is only half true,” I say in defense, but both Finn and Caleb are staring with clear humor in their gaze.
“Sounds about right for our friend here,” Finn adds.
“Oh, so I’m not special? Gee, thanks. Nice to know I’m just another conquest.” Sawyer takes a sip of her wine and holds stock in silence before giggling. “I’m kidding. Geez, I couldn’t even pretend to be that crazy.”
Caleb and Finn toss their heads back and laugh.
They like her instantly. Caleb had a head start because they are colleagues, but seeing her seamlessly shooting the shit with my friends makes whatever nervousness residing in my chest ebb away.
This is going to be a good weekend. I can feel it.
Sawyer
“Holy shit.”
I stand stock-still after we step out of the black car that brought us from the train to the wedding venue, which is also where the entirety of the guests and bridal party will be staying, and stare in complete splendor.
“What?” Isaac asks with a hand to the small of my back.
“What do you mean
what?” I hold my arm out toward the giant mansion in front of us. “You somehow failed to mention you were bringing me to a damn castle for the weekend!”
The monumental work of architectural magic feels like something that has been plucked from a fairy tale and placed before us. With its cathedral-style windows, and stunning smoky gray stone making up the structure itself, in addition to a beautifully high, angled roof, I almost immediately feel like a peasant about to walk in and ruin the illusion completely.
“Christopher’s bride, Danielle, comes from a very well-to-do family. She wanted the fairy-tale wedding. They came through,” Isaac tells me.
“I can’t go in there,” I say, with a shake of my head.
“What? Why?”
“Look at me. I’m so… plain, and that is so… not plain.”
“Okay, no,” Isaac says, as he turns and takes my face in his hands. “Look at me, don’t speak, just listen.”
Of course, I instantly open my mouth to say something, but he silences me with a kiss to the lips.
“You are not plain. You’re beautiful and you belong here. You belong everywhere.”
Any thought of self-doubt or anxiety about being in such an amazing place with such an incredible human being melts away with such a simple touch from him. A man I really don’t know that well. Hell, I don’t even know his middle name.
When he finally breaks the kiss and my eyes blink open, that cocky smirk is greeting me.
“You look awfully proud of yourself,” I tell him.
“I am.” He leans in and gives me one more peck then brushes my hair out of my face. “You’re beautiful, and I’m one proud son of a bitch that you’re going to be on my arm this weekend.”
His compliment makes me warm and fuzzy, but it also makes me want to shrink into the ground and hide. I don’t take them very well.
“Isaac, what’s your middle name?” I ask with absolutely no preamble.
“Andrew. Why? That was random.”
