It doesn’t.
I’m struck by the fact that I keep doing that—waiting, breath held, for the disappointment to happen. For the shame to come raining down. It’s so deeply ingrained in me, this idea that I’m going to be punished for talking and acting freely, that I’m shocked when the shame doesn’t hit.
It never does when I’m with Sawyer.
“I’m worried you’ll want me to change.”
The creases between his brows reappear. “Why would you say that?”
“Because no one’s ever liked me for me. I’ve always been a free spirit?—”
“Who? The girl who likes having sex in public?” Sawyer scoffs. “Nah.”
“You enjoyed it.”
“I loved it. Can’t wait to do it again.”
My eyes burn. “But not everyone likes that side of me. So for a while, I buried it. I was—God, so unhappy. So I chose freedom, which I’m very much enjoying. I never want to go back to feeling ashamed for who I am, or pretending to be someone I’m not.”
Sawyer’s eyes glimmer with emotion. “Who the fuck wouldeverwant you to change? Being around you, it’s been a breath of fresh air for me. Your free-spiritedness—is that even a word?”
“I think so?” I laugh.
“Your free-spiritedness, it’s made me want to loosen up and have some fucking fun. You ever change, I’ll be mad as hell. Because then I’ll have to go back to being bored and lonely and just, yeah. Worse off.” He holds my eyes. “You make everything better, pretty girl. Just by being you.”
My heart thumps in my throat. Do I run? Assume that, no matter what this cowboy says, he’s eventually going to put me in a cage?
Or do I believe that he really and truly is different?
Thatthisstory, his and mine, has a different ending than the story I shared with Dan?
My stomach interrupts the emotionally charged silence by growling. Because of course.
Laughing, Sawyer pulls up my jeans and buttons them. “Glad you’re hungry, because I am too. I’ll build a fire, and then we’ll eat. Sound good?”
My heart has wings. “Sounds perfect.”
CHAPTER22
Sawyer
SLIP AND FALL
I laydown a blanket and tell Ava to relax while I set up.
Of course she doesn’t listen, and instead helps me set up a fire in the makeshift pit my brothers and I dug a few years back.
“Y’all come here often?” Ava carefully angles the larger pieces of firewood to create a little pyramid. Then she tucks the smaller sticks and bits of kindling inside the pyramid, careful not to overpack it.
“Before Ella was born, we did. Back when I had the energy to stay up past seven thirty. I mean, there’s not much else to do on a Friday night in Hartsville. Or any other night, for that matter.” My knees crack when I crouch to light the fire. “So you grew up on a ranch too.”
She grins, shaking her hair out of her eyes. “What gave me away?”
“The fact that you’re a barrel racer.” I nod at the wood, which crackles as the fire starts. “And that you know how to build a bonfire.”
“Gotta get that airflow going underneath the big pieces,” she says. “My dad loves a fire, even during the summer. I was very popular in high school because I could build a legit fire for our field parties.”
I grin. “I remember those. Good times.”