Page 93 of Sinful as They Come
“Look, you’ve helped me a lot lately,” I whispered. “And after earlier, maybe we’ve made amends? We don’t have to be besties. Just let me help you. I’m not doing this to be a bitch or to make you feel bad. I just really wanna help the both of you.”
“Holly, we’ll be fine. I told you: my dad’s done this shit before. I dealt with it then and I’ll deal with it again.”
“Just let me make your life a little bit easier. Please.”
“Holly.”
“Sawyer.”
He shut his eyes. “I didn’t ask you to do this. I’m used to having to deal with this kinda shit. I’ve been taking care of myself for a long, long time.”
I let out a breath. “Well, why don’t you let someone else take care of you for once?”
Sawyer’s eyes slowly opened up at that. He was looking at me in a way he had never looked at me before. It would be a lie if I said I didn’t like it.
Sawyer nodded slowly before gesturing for me to come inside. “You sit. Me and Brodie will get ‘em.”
I took a seat at the small dining table, taking in the sight of the scattered magnets on the fridge as Sawyer and Brodie got to work on bringing the bags in. It would be enough stuff to last them a few weeks at least, hopefully until Sawyer got back on his feet. When all the bags were inside, Brodiestood at the doorway with a smile.
“I gotta go,” he told us, thumbing at the door. “Me and Lucas are going to the skatepark.”
“You never said anything about that,” Sawyer said, a tone of suspicion in his voice. “And you usually ask me for a ride everywhere.”
Brodie snorted. “Yeah, I know. But I’m gonna walk today.”
“Where’s your skateboard?” I narrowed my eyes at his empty hands.
“You kids have fun!” Brodie slammed the door shut before either of us could say much.
“Fuckin’ Brodie,” Sawyer muttered before turning to me, a serious look on his face. “You didn’t have to do all of this, Holly. Me and Brodie are gonna have enough food for weeks… Thank you…” There was some hesitation in his voice. “I appreciate this. A lot.”
I could tell that was hard for him to say. I didn’t want him to feel like a charity case, but maybe that insecurity still lingered. “You’re welcome,” was all I said, reaching out for a bag.
“You don’t have to unpack this shit. This stuff, I mean. The groceries.”
“I don’t mind helping.” I smiled at him, getting to work on the bag closest to me. I kept my mouth shut as Sawyer huffed next to me, but we were able to unpack the groceries without a single fight. It was nice to not scream at Sawyer for once. I let Sawyer place stuff in the cabinets since he knew where everything went, while I got to work on most of the vegetables and meat. “What are you gonna have for dinner tonight?”
Sawyer scratched at the back of his head. “I normally eat wings and pizza. Not that I’m complaining that you didn’t get that stuff or anything.”
“You missed the couple frozen pizzas in the freezer, actually.” I laughed. “How about I make you something? Brodie can eat it. If he ever gets back from his date with Lucas at the skatepark.”
Sawyer turned to me, looking at me seriously. “You’ve already helped me enough."
“Just let me make you dinner. Something with vegetables.”
“Pizza has vegetables. The toppings are vegetables.”
“That… That does not count. Go. Sit. I’ll cook.”
“Wait… I’ll cook with you,” Sawyer told me lowly, almost cautiously. “You probably think I’m a dumbass ‘cause all I eat is pizza and wings and microwaved stuff. But my dad never taught me that shit.” He looked down at the ground and let out a long breath. “And my mom didn’t hang around long enough to do that either.”
There was mystery surrounding Sawyer’s mother. I hadn’t even met Sawyer’s dad but I knew the man was an abusive loser. But his mom? What was the story there? I was curious. But I wasn’t going to push him.
“I don’t think you’re a dumbass. I’ll teach you,” I offered with my softest voice. “I promise it’s not too hard.”
Sawyer nodded, licking at his lips. It was so weird when he got quiet. I was so used to arguing with him that his silent side made me realize just how alone we were. No Brodie. Just me and Sawyer in his small kitchen.
“How do you feel about chicken stir fry?” I broke the silence. “I’m not the best cook in the world, but I can whip up something good and teach you a thing or two.”
