Page 94 of Infatuated as They Come
“Hey, you’re here late!” Damien said the second I walked into the building. He was covered in that thick apron again. “I’ve never seen you after the sun sets. Was starting to think there was something weird about you.”
I shrugged my jacket off. “I know. I usually try and get back home as soon as work is over with.”
“How was work today?”
“Long, tiring, my arms hurt real bad.”
“Very exciting. Whatcha gonna paint?”
“Uh…” I frowned. “No painting tonight. I wanted to ask you a favor, actually. I need you to show me to how to make something.”
Chapter 23
Holly
The last few weeks had been weird and I wasn’t even sure if I was entitled to what I was feeling. November had been lovely, but just as quickly as Sawyer changed into the boyfriend I actually saw and got to spend time with, he turned back into the one I barely got to say a word to. No more eating dinner together. No more hanging out with him at the studio—he had been working on some big, top secret project I wasn’t privy to. No more cuddling on the couch. Instead, I had been left to sit on it all alone, back to doing what we had done before: me waiting for Sawyer, only for him to show up late.
His Saturdays and Sundays were the same as well, leaving early in the morning and coming back when my eyes were heavy and sleep was taking over. I couldn’t work out if I was the problem. If it was just me being selfish and expecting things to be how they were back in Dallas when we had less commitments.
He at the very least wasn’t spending all of his time at work and instead was actually at the studio doing what he should have been doing full time. His art was all I had ever wanted him to focus on. How could I be sad when he was doing exactly what I had asked of him? When he was doing what he loved?
I was the problem. It was me being stupid and selfish. That was all it was. But that loneliness and aching in my chest wouldn’t leave, like it had found a permanent place in my heart since we moved to this stupid, dumb, bigcity.
I was spending another night alone, sitting on the couch and scrolling through emails when I saw one pop up from Caroline confirming the go ahead for my newest article. Even that wouldn’t spark any excitement within me.
It was almost ten and Sawyer was still in Brooklyn, and it looked like I’d be eating dinner alone for what felt like the thousandth time since moving to New York. I wasn’t even in the mood to eat and instead stared at the duffel bags I had just packed for our trip back to Dallas tomorrow. Sawyer’s gifts were sitting inside most of them, with three bags absolutely stuffed to the brim with things I hoped he’d love. He never let me spoil him any other time, but on Christmas? I wouldn’t let him escape it. If I even got to see him and give him said gifts…
I heard the sound of the door clicking open and I looked up to see my tousled-haired boyfriend.
“Hey,” Sawyer said. “There you are.”
“Here I am,” I said softly.
“Watcha doing? You all packed for tomorrow?” he asked, nodding towards the bags.
“Mhm.” I nodded. “All done.”
His head tilted as he sat down next to me, cupping the side of my face. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“You don’t sound fine.”
Forcing a smile, I pushed all those negative feelings deep down. “I’m just a little tired. December always feels like that, right?”
“Hey, come here.” He gathered me against his chest, his hand pressed to the back of my head, and it was so easy to get lost in the feeling of him. He was so warm and broad and solid. Had it really been that long since I had felt him so close? “I thought you’d be in bed by now.”
“I’m not really sleepy. What’d you do today?”
“You know I was at the studio.”
“I know, but you never tell me what you’re doing down there. What areyou working on?”
He cleared his throat. “Just… this thing.”
“What thing?”
“Just a thing.”
