Page 70 of Infinite as They Come
“I’m sorry, baby,” he said. He moved over to me, hands pressed either side of my face as he gave the top of my head a kiss. “This was for you. This whole trip was meant for you, and I still want it to be that way. It’s all gone a little upside down.”
Head shaking, I smiled. “You and your mom found each other, Sawyer. I can’t be mad about that. I’mnotmad. I just…” I wished I knew where he had been taking off to lately, but I didn’t want to be that girlfriend. I didn’t want to pry and push and ask too many questions. It wasn’t my place to investigate every last one of his actions. “I just miss you when you’re gone.”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he whispered, kissing at my forehead. “I’m gonna make it up to you. I will. I promise I will.”
There was something in his voice. Something I had heard before. That eagerness, that honesty, that devotion. I had never heard that in anyone’s voice but his, and I couldn’t help but wonder what was going on in his head. But I just smiled and nodded, resting my hands on top of his.
“We’ll hang out tonight,” I offered.
“Yeah, honey, we’ll hang out.” He nodded. “I’ll be back in a few hours, okay? I’m sorry to leave you here alone again.”
“There’s a lot of fun stuff to do around here. Tommy promised me he’d teach me that vending machine trick.”
He chuckled. “Get me a drink while you’re at it.”
“I’ll definitely save you one.”
“I gotta head out now, but I’ll be back soon.” He held my face gently, his thumbs tracing too soft delicate patterns against my skin. It was another one of those moments where he touched me and held me like I was made of glass. “I love you, Holly.”
“I love you too,” I said.
He slipped into the bathroom for a few minutes after that, swiped his car keys off the table, and stared at me for a long moment before pulling open the door. I gave him a little wave before he shut the door behind him, and then I threw myself back to the bed. I really didn’t like it when Sawyer was in his head. When he kept things to himself.
My eyes rolled. He was out doing… something… and he was allowed to have time for himself, especially with everything that had been going on.
It was easy enough to keep myself busy throughout the day. I spent a couple hours working on some articles for my blog, focusing on Mike’s interview. There were a few new comments under my old articles that madea smile spread across my face, and they just let me know that I was moving in the right direction—that there was no role in New York that was ever going to make me feel as fulfilled.
I spent some time looking at Sawyer’s website too, the internet lagging slightly. There were even more enquiries, and that didn’t surprise me in the slightest: Sawyer was far too talented to ever go unnoticed. We’d have to sort that all out when we got back to New York. The shipping, the studio,the apartment. Living in that apartment with Sawyer was lovely and I adored every second of being in it with him, but I could still imagine us somewhere else. Maybe in that house I dreamed about—still dreamt about, really. Him in some room in the corner of the house with the country sun pouring in through the windows. Hands streaked with paint. Green eyes narrowed, focused, fused to the canvas. Him so happy and free and doing what he loved and was so, so good at.
My head shook the dreamy fantasy out of my head before I could get too lost in it. Picking up my laptop and tucking it under my arm, I figured I’d make my way to the front office of the motel. The owner was an older woman who didn’t mind when I sat at one of the front office chairs and typed away. She was sweet and liked the company, and the internet always worked better there.
I ended up spending most of my day there before my eyes started to feel all sore and strained. So, I went back to the motel room and pushed open the door, gasping when I ran into something hard. Sawyer. His hands found my waist, stopping me from stumbling backwards. The sound of rustling was in the air, and I realized then that a whole stack of papers had hit the floor. Papers that had been in Sawyer’s hands.
“I’m sorry,” I said, kneeling down.
“I got it!” Sawyer said, snatching at the papers before I could even brush my fingers against them. “It’s all good, baby, I got it.”
He was moving so fast that he was getting some of them all crinkled, stacking them all into an untidy pile.
“What did you do today?” he asked, the words coming out rushed and panicked. “Did you eat dinner yet? Bet you’re hungry. Let’s go downto the diner. My treat, get whatever you want.”
Brows furrowed, I let him snatch the papers off the ground, because it was obvious he didn’t want me looking at them. We both slowly stood up at the same time, some unusual wall of awkwardness suddenly standing there in between us.
“You must be hungry too,” I said. “You were out all day.”
“It wasn’t all day, was it?”
I raised my eyebrows at him. “Definitely was.”
“I’m sorry.” He wrapped one arm around my waist while leaning down to kiss me all at once, but it lasted barely a second and had me wanting more of him. Moving past me, he walked into the room and yanked open the zip on his duffel bag, shoving all the papers inside. “But I’m back now. Let’s go grab something to eat. We’ll have dinner.”
“Dinner sounds really nice,” I said, setting my laptop down. “I’ve been doing a lot of writing today. I could use a break.”
“Oh, yeah? I’ll check it out after dinner.”
Hand in hand, we walked down the stairs to the truck, and I enjoyed the quietness of the drive over to the diner even if the journey was short. It was nice to have Sawyer close after not seeing him all day. His hand felt warm and heavy and comforting on my thigh, his voice deep and gruff as he told me how much he missed me.
The diner was packed when we got inside, but we managed to find a booth at the back, the both of us sliding into our seats. Immediately, his hands found mine, holding them against the center of the table.
