Page 44 of Kiss and Tell
“How much are we talking?” It’s unforgivably nosy, and I don’t care.
“Do you have any idea how judgy you sound right now?”
“How much?”
He sighs. “We each got a half-million dollars.”
My fork clanks again. “My grandma got me six pairs of socks for my twenty-sixth birthday. But they were warm.”
“You’re being the worst right now, Tab.”
He’s not wrong. But it had become so obvious the more I’d learned about the real Sawyer that there had never been a chance he would fall for me. Me with my state college education and my working-class parents and my small-town roots.
One picture on his sister’s feed in particular had pancaked me, a post from her wedding on the first New Year’s Day after Sawyer and I broke up. New Year’s Eve was the worst holiday to spend alone, but I’d sat in my room, rejecting Grace’s efforts to get me to go out with her and some friends.
Apparently, the oldest Reed sister had gotten married the day before. The shot was at her wedding, a formal evening affair inside a posh hotel in Spain. The bride and groom stood at the top of the grand foyer staircase, their attendants flanking them, Sawyer with the groomsmen, the other sister with the bridesmaids.
The guests below were in tuxes and evening gowns, holding up champagne to toast them, and I’d stared at it for hours, realizing how big the gulf was between Sawyer and me.
I’d thought my prom was fancy, with the moms getting together to serve us a sit-down dinner in someone’s backyard decked out in twinkle lights; the girls in discount dresses from JC Penney; the boys in rented tuxes or their dads’ too-big suits. We’d felt sophisticated, dancing in the transformed Creekville Community Center.
That looked like kids playing dress up in cheap costumes compared to the elegance of this wedding.
“Tabitha?”
“Sorry.” I focus on Sawyer again. “Your Bruce Wayne inheritance threw me. It’s like finding out your college boyfriend had a superhero alter ego.”
“I don’t fight crime. Just city zoning boards and municipal tax commissions.”
I eat a few more bites, studying him in open fascination. Regardless of my dislike for him, he is objectively dead sexy. He lets the silence lie between us and puts up with it. “Are you creeped out I keep staring at you?”
“No,” he says. “I’ve been able to watch you whenever I want over the last five years, so fair is fair.”
It’s my turn to blush. Five years ago, I started the YouTube cooking channel that led to my network show. He’s openly admitting he’s been tracking me closely for a long time.
“What you’ve built, it’s incredible,” he says. “You did that all on your own with a cell phone and an internet connection. Impressive as hell.”
My blush deepens. “I’m pretty proud of it.”
“You should be. I knew when you had to run the whole kitchen the summer Marge quit you were going to do amazing things. And you have.” He pauses, like he wants to add something. “I was sorry you didn’t come back the next year.”
I shift in my seat. Now we’re getting to the real stuff, the stuff we’ve been dancing around. “That summer worked out for the best.” I’d gotten a job as a dishwasher in Roanoke’s only fine dining restaurant and worked my way up to line cook by August. The executive chef ended up writing me a recommendation for culinary school.
“I’m glad to hear it did for you.” He glances at his empty plate. “Are you still hungry? If not, let’s take that walk down to the dock.”
He helps me clean up the dinner mess, and then we head out to the dock.
It’s an out-of-body experience walking with him to the dock. At least it’s the new one. There’s no way to avoid the memories of sitting on the old one, talking for hours. Or to ignore that if this were anyone but Sawyer, an invitation from a hot guy to take an evening walk to a dock would hold the promise of potential. Romance. Connection.
But itisSawyer, and there’s no chance I’ll forget it.
Long talks weren’t the only thing that happened on the old dock, and there is no way to forget that kind of pain.
Chapter 14
Nine Years Ago
Istareddownatthe sunrise picnic I’d prepared for Sawyer.
