I barely hear what he says next because there’s so much pressure in my chest.
Sawyer, who didn’t give a shit about the fish, is worried about them. And he’s embarrassed and frustrated he needs to ask for help.
“That one is sensitive. Could be fungus. They can contract it in the wild, but it’s more common with pets.” My chest tightens in compassion. The poor animal did nothing wrong, but he’s suffering.
I pull up a page on my phone. “Check all the water levels. Twice. Then get this antibacterial stuff and use it as directed.”
“If it doesn’t help?”
It’s dusk and the sun leaves streaks of orange on the horizon, but it’s nearly dark.
“If it doesn’t…you know where to find me.” I smile but he only sighs.
“Olivia. I like what we had. I want it back,” he says.
The determination on his face is beyond sexy.
I want that too.
Both because of how alive he makes me feel, and because he’s glorious. A dark god who casually brings mortals to their knees, benevolent enough to make sure they delight in their submission.
And I’m past judging myself for that.
But I think of how much it hurt to learn I wasn’t the first younger woman he pursued. If I hadn’t gotten so caught up in who he was as a person, it wouldn’t have mattered nearly as much.
“Fine.” I can indulge in the hedonism that is Sawyer Redmond, and protect my heart. “But it’s only physical.”
He frowns. “I’m not going to stop looking out for you. I care what you’re doing, and with whom.”
I think of the necklace, and the way he showed up in lab.
“We’re not going on dates. Or playing games. Or hanging out. And that’s not up for negotiation.”
Which is exactly what this is when he steps closer and pops the collar on my jacket, his thumb grazing my neck. “We’re exclusive. No other man touches you.”
My heart skips under his touch. “And you don’t touch any other women.”
“Obviously.” Sawyer stares at me like I’m insane, except it’s not obvious to me, and hearing him say that has a knot loosening in my chest.
“Deal. But we’re not texting.”
He holds open my car door with a look of incredulity.
“You deleted our messages,” I remind him. “If we’re going to do this, we need to trust each other.”
He grimaces. “You think that’s why I deleted the messages.”
“Why else?”
He holds out his phone and shows me the messages on his phone—perfectly intact.
I scroll through them, trying not to get emotional.
He owns a piece of our history I don’t have anymore.
Does he read them? The thought makes my pulse skip.
“Delete them,” I say.
His eyes narrow to slits. “What?”
“If I don’t have our texts, you don’t either.”
He turns it over, long enough for a group of teenagers to wander past the parking long and cackle over some joke. Longer than I’ve ever seen him think on anything.
Finally, he says, “I’ll send them to you.”
“Fine.” I say it as if I don’t care, when it feels like I’ve suddenly been granted another chance at life.
He holds out a hand for his phone. “Need yours too.”
I pass it over.
He hits a few keystrokes on mine, then returns it before typing into his. “There. Don’t let some asshole take them from you this time.”
I shove my phone in my pocket and set the bags in the passenger seat before I shift into the car.
I turn and look up at him. “If we do this, I have two more conditions.”
He looks pained. “You want me to hand you my balls, too? I promise this will be far less satisfying if I do.”
My lips twitch. “First…” I take a steadying breath. “I’m taking the money he left me. All fifty thousand.”
If my dad truly is broke, I’ll need it for tuition next semester.
He nods. “It’s yours. And the other condition?”
“You have to give your dad a chance.”
“He’s dead.”
“That’s why it matters even more. You’re carrying around the memory of him, but what if he changed? You don’t want to entertain the possibility of that?”
His eyes bore into mine. “You don’t know what happened the night I left.”
“Then tell me.”
What was the thing that pushed Sawyer over the edge, had him running from the only home he knew, even if it was imperfect at best?
He leans in and his breath is on my lips, warm, sweet.
“Tell me,” I repeat, whispering against his mouth.
“No feelings, right?” he counters.
Damn him.
My fingers tangle in his hair as he pushes me against the back of the seat and drives into my mouth.
His hands hold my hips in place, sliding down until his fingers touch the top of my thighs, and I break the kiss.
He bites my lip and releases it, looking at me with raw desire.
He’s not gone five minutes before my phone buzzes.
The name on the contact makes me laugh.
Repentant Asshole: Text me tonight.
10
Olivia
Liv: You can get the fish medication at the PopTart.
Repentant Asshole: The what?
Liv: I mean PetSmart. Whoops. I’ve had three beers.
Repentant Asshole: Tipsy Cherry.
Liv: That’s not a thing.
Repentant Asshole: It is and I like it :)
Liv: I’m having drinks with my roommates.
Repentant Asshole: Glad you’ve been thinking about me.
Liv: Barely.
Repentant Asshole: If I was there, I’d lift you up on the table and make you show me how wet you are.
Liv: Sawyer there’s a room full of people.
Repentant Asshole: Then I’d put that slickness to good use and teach you what it’s for.
Liv: You wouldn’t.
Repentant Asshole: Maybe, maybe not. But now you’re gonna be thinking about it all night.
Repentant Asshole: See you in class, Cherry.
11
Olivia
The email asking for me to stop by the dean’s office comes the next afternoon.
“What’s it about?” I ask Betty when I head upstairs.
“No idea,” she says, frowning.
I have no desire to see him, but I can’t very well ignore the summons.
The dean calls me in. “Olivia, good to see you.”
He motions for me to take a seat in one of the leather chairs opposite him.
I sink into the chair but my attention is drawn to the walls boasting photos of graduating classes.