Page 8 of Sawyer

He runs a hand over his scruff. Is that a pink flush working its way up his neck? “Sorry. That was … really bad, wasn’t it?”

I give him a nudge. “Bright side, I know you’re not a serial killer now. They can’t be that cheesy.”

They can’t be that endearingly, adorably embarrassed.

“I’m just a little rusty.” He holds up his hand and pinches his fingers together. “I don’t really go out anymore.”

“Sawyer, I haven’t been out to a bar in … Lord, I don’t even know how long. If anyone is rusty, it’s me.”

He smiles. “So you’ll body-slam—I mean dance—you’ll dance with me, then?” He holds out his hand.

I take it. How could I not? Dan didn’t dance. He didn’t want me dancing, either. A man encouraging me to do my thing on the dance floor is a really nice change of pace.

“This is one of my favorite songs, so yeah. I’d love to.”

Without thinking, I swipe my thumb across the back of his hand. I’m not sure why I do it. I’m just … feeling this, I guess. Feelingus, and touching him this way feels like a small, safe admission that I want more of whatever it is he’s giving me.

Maybe three times really is a charm. What do I have to lose?

“I’d love to body-slam you. Let’s do it.”

Burns, burns, burns.

My entire being burns as Sawyer leads me to the dance floor.

CHAPTER3

Sawyer

THIRSTY

The second Avatakes my hand, I know I’m in trouble.

It’s the good kind of trouble. I think. I hope. Been so long since I asked a pretty stranger to dance, I forget how this shit goes down.

All I know is, I fuckinglikeit when she arcs her thumb over the back of my hand. The movement is quick, gentle. Barely noticeable. Except I’m a single dad who’s simultaneously touched out and touch-starved, so of course I notice it.

All of a sudden, my skin feels two sizes too tight. That all it takes?

It’s been a minute since I got laid. Or been on a date. Not for lack of trying. I just haven’t hit it off with anyone back home in Hartsville. I always felt like there was something missing whenever I went out with a girl. Couldn’t put my finger on it, but eventually I just stopped going out. Trying to date, find a real connection with someone, took too much time and energy I didn’t have.

Long story short, maybe this is just some kinda, I don’t know, frustration working its way to the surface. Even before Ella was born three years ago, I was never one to run around with random girls. Just wasn’t all that interested in meaningless hookups.

Which is how, at twenty-five, I ended up getting one of my good friends pregnant. But that’s another story for another day.

Point being, I’m not a player. But even for me, my current dry spell is bordering on epic. If I’m being honest, I think part of the reason Cash agreed to this trip is because he knew how much I needed a break—how badly I needed to cut loose.

What better way to cut loose than to dance to Shenandoah with a hot blonde?

Because JesusChristis Ava hot. The kind of hot that had half the place staring as she was dancing earlier. She’s tall, with striking green eyes and a head of long, lush hair. The kind you want to dig your hands into. The kind you could wrap around your fist once, twice, three times, giving you a nice, solid grip.

Duke, my younger brother, noticed me watching her, so he took it upon himself to nudge me closer and closer until I was right behind her. I was thinking of ways to get an opening—the line I’d lean in and say when the band was between songs—when her sister provided that opening for me by giving her a hard shove.

I’m still annoyed I didn’t have a Tide pen on me. Ava’s shirt is probably gonna be ruined. Unless I get my hands on it, of course. In the literal and figurative sense.

Don’t hate that idea. I’ve only known Ava for all of ten minutes, but the sharp-edged attraction I feel for her is something I haven’t experienced in a long-ass time. She’s gorgeous. She’s also funny. Self-deprecating in a way I like.

Kind, too.

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