Page 18 of Infinite as They Come
“I…” He closed his eyes for a second. “I can’t talk to her right now. I thought I would be ready. God, I’ve wanted to hear her voice for years, but I’m not fucking ready.”
“And that’s okay.” I nodded. “We’ll go find a motel. We’ll stay there. And then you can make your next move, whatever that is, whenever that is.”
He nodded slowly, carefully. Shaky hands landed on either side of my face as he moved his lips to mine, kissing at me softly. The way his tongue pushed into my mouth was so careful and gentle it almost had me sighing right then and there. Sawyer pulled away from my lips with a shallow breathand then pressed his forehead to mine right after, his hands still there on my face, his thumbs ghosting along my cheeks. Like he needed to feel me. Like he had to have it.
“I’ll… I’ll find us a place,” he said, voice sounding that little bit strained. “I’ll find us a place, Holly. I swear I will.”
I nodded. I knew that. We’d find a new place to stay at, just as cozy and inviting as the motel we just left, and he’d keep me so warm and safe like he always did.
I let Sawyer make the first move. He gently got me settled back into the seat, his hands rubbing over his face for a second. It was only when he clicked his belt back in that I slid mine in too.
It was quiet as we drove to the motel. Quiet when we checked in. Quiet as we got into our room. It was small and calm and exactly what I had been looking forward to for our trip, but that room suddenly felt all cramped and hot the second we got inside, like the walls were closing in on us, and I just knew it felt a hundred times worse for Sawyer.
He sat on the edge of the bed, hand grasping his phone tight before he laid it down next to him and pressed his hands to his thighs. I took a seat on his other side, my hand resting atop of one of his. For a moment, I just stared at that. At the way his hand shook a little under mine. He was usually so solid, so sturdy. Sawyer was my rock: the one who kept me grounded and protected and safe. Who gave me so much love I could feel it all over, burning in my chest, in my soul, from top to bottom.
“I love you,” I finally said. I didn’t know what else to say.
“I love you too.” Eyes in front of him, he spoke. “You’re the best thing to ever happen to me, Holly. You know that, right?”
“You’re the best thing to ever happen to me too,” I whispered.
He stood up suddenly, our hands slipping away from each other, and I really hated that, but his own were pushing through his hair with hasty movements. He was pacing in front of me, taking long strides in the small room. I didn’t know what to say, what to think, how to make it better.I just wanted to make it better for him.
“I don’t even know how she got my number,” he said, suddenly yankinghis bag from the ground and setting in on the bed, unzipping at it with a rough hand. “Maybe Brodie. Maybe Brodie’s dad talked to her and he asked Brodie and Brodie gave it to her but he would have told me first. He would have asked me. He would have said something to me first. I know he would have. I don’t even know how she found me, how she got my number…”
My fingers curled against the edge of the mattress, staring up at Sawyer as his hands dove through his bag, unpacking like we were in a rush all of a sudden.
“Is it crazy that I can still remember her voice even though I haven’t spoken to her in years? I can remember her face too,” he said, hands still there in his bag. “I can remember everything. I can remember the day I came home from school and thought she’d be there but she was already long gone by then.”
I let him move, let him use his hands, long fingers yanking at his shirts and a pair of jeans and his painting stuff before his eyes zeroed in on something in his bag that had him letting out an uneven breath. Head shaking, he was quick to zip his bag up, placing it at the other side of the room.
“What am I supposed to do?” he asked, eyes still not meeting mine. “You can’t just call your kid out of the blue after not seeing them for years. I’ve gone nearly twenty years without seeing her. Talking to her. And it was just me wondering if she’s okay, if she’s safe, if her new family were good to her, if she’s married to some other guy who likes to hurt her. That’s a long fucking time to ignore your own son, isn’t it? Don’t you think? You can’t just call him up out of fucking nowhere, right?”
I nodded slowly. “It’s not fair, Sawyer.”
The phone rang there on the bed, the sound far too loud and piercing. Sawyer’s eyes bounced from his phone to me and then back to the phone, and I slowly placed my hand over it.
“You might not be ready to talk to her,” I said. “And it’s okay if you don’t want to do this today. Or tomorrow. Or next week. Or… Or ever…”
He scrubbed his hands over his face. “I wasn’t expecting to hear her voice. I’ve been… I’ve been trying to get everything together, trying to work everything out, and now…”
My head tilted and I stood up, the phone on the bed suddenly going silent as the ringing faded. My hands grabbed his and I pulled them away from his face, and I hated seeing his green eyes riddled with so much pain and confusion. I wanted to reach into his heart and hold it tight and keep every single ache away from him.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
He sighed deeply, the sound shaky and pained, his hands gripping my waist. “Nothing. I just mean… Nothing, baby. I just wasn’t expecting to wake up today and hear my mom’s voice…”
Nodding, I pressed my hands to the sides of his face. “Tell me what you need. We can talk about it. About her. Or we can go for a drive. Or you can talk to her. You can call her back and I’ll be right there next to you while you do it. Just tell me what you need, Sawyer.”
Long, strong fingers gripped my waist tight as he pulled me closer. His forehead met mine as our chests pressed together, a trembling breath leaving his mouth.
“My head’s a mess,” he said, voice rough before he pulled in a ragged breath. “You make everything better, though. You’re here. Close. Everything feels better with you…”
I kissed him softly, his hands holding me tight, as if I’d slip away just like someone else did. “I love you so much,” I whispered. “I don’t know what’s going on in your mind right now. You can tell me. You can talk to me. You don’t need to keep it to yourself…”
“I can’t…” His head shook. “I don’t even know where to start. I can’t… I can’t focus…”
My eyes found his painting things in the corner. All that stuff on the table Sawyer had tossed there a minute ago like we were in some wild rush to get settled into the motel. The tubes of paint and palette and the canvas pad and the stack of brushes. Slowly, I pulled him over to it. Hands on his chest, I gently got him settled into the chair, his brows furrowed before they rose like he understood what I was trying to do. Painting always relaxed him. Calmed him. Kept him steady.
