Page 30 of Liar
Once I reached the door, I knocked. The sun was above me, shining oddly brightly for a late January day, and I punched the doorbell a few times. Okay, not really punched—more like hit really hard. What if Sawyer was in there dead? What if the killer was here, waiting for me? What if—
All of my thoughts vanished in a puff of smoke as I watched the door open, Sawyer on its other side, wearing clean jeans and a dark blue shirt that played off his emerald eyes. His blonde hair was off to the side, although a bit of it in the front stuck up from whatever gel he’d put into it. His jaw, clean-shaven, looked as smooth as ever.
“Ash,” Sawyer said, blonde brows furrowing as he checked me out. I must’ve been a sight, for he said, “What’s wrong? I said dinner was for tomorrow—” He made it a point to check out the empty space behind me. “Where’s everyone else?”
I stared at him for I couldn’t say how long, taking in the slight crookedness of his nose—as if he’d gotten into a fight. Or maybe just fell down while drunk or high. I took in the sparkling depths of his green eyes, the way his shirt pulled tightly against his wide, muscular shoulders. He was everything a man should be, and yet I worried about him like he was a five-year-old incapable of caring for himself.
I then did something that was so unlike me, I damn well shocked myself almost as much as I did him: I hugged him.
And then I quickly realized what I was doing, so I pulled myself off him, looked him square in the eyes with what I hoped was a scowl, and said, “Just checking to make sure you were still alive.” I pointed to the door behind him, and to the windows along the front of the house. “Make sure those are locked. Bye.”
Yeah. Pretty stupid. Definitely lame.
Hey, I never claimed I was the coolest chick around, but when it came to Sawyer, I felt so inept and useless. It was like, beside him, I was an ugly duckling and he was the cream of the crop, the cool kid, the sexy man, the one who made my insides go haywire.
I said nothing else as I spun on my heel and started to walk down the stone path to the sidewalk. I made it only halfway before I heard him say “Wait!” As if I was going to stop; he couldn’t get me to stop. Nope.
But then the bastard ran out and grabbed my hand.
My hand. Not even my wrist, or my arm.
My frigging hand.
The feeling of his hand wrapped around mine sent my mind tumbling in the wrong direction, and I threw a look over my shoulders, meeting his stare. God, he was hot. Just as hot as I remembered him being before. This was why I was weak for Sawyer Salvatore; sometimes, occasionally, he showed just the barest hints of genuine emotion.
Before, it’d been harder to see, but now? Now the emotion was plain on his face, sitting right there in his crisp, clear eyes.
I could only imagine what he wanted to say, but I needn’t have worried too much, because it was at that inopportune time that my phone rang. Sawyer and I were silent for a while, his hand sluggishly releasing its hold on mine. I never broke eye contact with him, even as I answered the phone.
“Hello?” Didn’t look at the caller-ID. Didn’t even glance.
“Ash,” it was Declan, “what’s going on? Did something happen at the police station? Do you need me to come get you?”
I said nothing, wishing I could tell Sawyer how I felt. Wishing he could open his mouth and tell me what he was thinking, where his mind was, if he honestly thought this could all work.
“Do I need to call Ollie? He’s my family’s lawyer—”
The mention of a lawyer snapped me out of it. “No, no. I’m coming home,” I said. “I’ll explain everything when I get there. I’m on my way now.” This time, I actually told Declan goodbye before hanging up.
“What’s wrong?” Sawyer asked. He didn’t wear a coat, but he seemed to be completely fine. Maybe that was due to all of his muscles, keeping him warm in the cold air.
“You didn’t hear about what happened?”
Sawyer shrugged, an expression of seriousness on his face. “I’ve been thinking about tomorrow. I haven’t really paid attention to anything else—”
“A grad student was found dead,” I cut in, causing his eyes to widen. “It happened late last night, they think.” An uneasy feeling rose in my gut, and I glanced all around before adding, “I was the last one to see him alive, besides the killer.”
“Fuck.”
Fuck didn’t cut it.
I let out a sigh. “Officer Melendez thinks it’s Ray, but Ray’s gone, which means…”
“There’s another killer on campus,” Sawyer said.
“And just like the first, this one’s obsessed with me, too.”
Sawyer’s gaze narrowed, the intensity in his stare pushing away all doubt in my mind. “You don’t know that for sure. It could’ve been random.”
