He shrugs, smiling and finding his way back to the Sawyer I know. “And if you ever need some good dick, you know where to go.”
I roll my eyes at him and shake my head. “Don’t ever change, Sawyer.”
He winks and gives me a quick kiss before exiting my room.
I feel oddly empty as he leaves but not in the same way I felt when I walked away from Asher, leaving him in Kansas.
I lay back on my bed, covering my aching eyes with my arm.
Once again, I've made a massive mess for myself.
Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me! Fuck my life.
I walk out of my bedroom after a shitty night’s sleep, still hating the world. But now I want to scream up to the heavens and ask what the fuck kind of karma is this shit.
Sawyer walks out of Viv’s room, a shit-eating grin on his face, his hair mussed from a night of passion with Viv, and my fists clench at my side, dying to wipe that smile off his face for good.
But it fades on its own when he sees me. “Asher.” He grabs the back of his neck, and we stand in awkward silence, locked in a stare down neither of us will win.
He clears his throat and drops his hand, looking back at Viv’s door and then huffs, shaking his head as he faces me. “That could have been you last night. It could have been you walking out of her room this morning.” He shakes his head again. “Or staying in there, cuddling and spooning or whatever the fuck true lovers do.”
Yup. Still feeling homicidal.
“Don’t you fucking dare tell me it could be me when it was you.”
“Asher, wake the fuck up.” He takes a daring step closer to me. “It wasn’t me. It’s never been me.”
“Fuck you, Sawyer. It sure as fuck was your hands on her tits last night and . . .” I fight the rising bile from my turbulent stomach and look away.
I shouldn’t have had so much rum. I knew better, but I let him bait me.
“I know, but it doesn’t matter. You were right, okay?” My eyes snap to his. “She didn’t want them to be my hands, even if they are really skillful hands.” He shrugs his shoulders, smirking, but I know his pride has a small crack in it, telling me this. “For whatever reason, she would rather have your much smaller, fumbling hands.”
I raise my large hand and flip him off. “If she wanted me, she wouldn’t have brought you back to her room last night.”
“Loneliness and booze can do really stupid things. And once again, you made it pretty damn clear you didn’t want her.”
“I’m not doing this.” I turn to walk away but he blocks me.
“You are one stubborn motherfucker.”
“Are you seriously saying this to me?”
He nods, folding his arms. “Yes, I am because no matter what’s happened, we’re friends for life whether you like it or not.”
I scoff loudly. Is he serious? “Friends? You’re delusional.”
“And why do you say that?”
I stare at him, dumbfounded. Fine. Let’s do this. “You spent months telling me not to fuck her, not to do it. And then when I did, you told me to end it.”
“Did I now?”
I glare at him, frustrated and angry. “Yes.”
He just shakes his head again, and I push past him, walking into the living room. But he follows, once again standing before me. “I tried to get you to commit to her. Not just fuck her and use her. She’s a single mom and one you cared about. Now, if it was love I wasn’t sure, but I knew at the very least you cared about her.”
“So, when everything went to shit, you just decided to swoop in and do the same fucking thing?”
He looks defeated as he huffs, his head moving from side to side, yet again, as if I'm so blind he can’t take it, which only further pisses me off. “I told you, I wanted you to make it work with her. I wanted it to be love and to see you ride off into the sunset and all of that bullshit. Be normal. Love. I pushed you toward her because I wanted that.”
“And then you destroyed it.”
“Fuck you, Asher. I didn’t destroy shit. You demolished it all on your own, and you damn well know it because you’re a coward.”
My body creeps forward, getting in his face, and he drops his hands ready to defend himself. “I’m a what?”
“You heard me.” He doesn’t back down and, in fact, edges closer. “You were too afraid. And yes, I fucked up because I mistook your fear for indifference. I thought she really was to you what all women had been before, what most of the women before had been for me—a plaything, a warm body to try to shut off the boredom and pain.”
I hate him, but my anger starts to dissipate because I know he’s right. I spent so long trying to convince him that I had it under control and that I wasn’t in love with her. I did the same thing to her.
“She was, but I also cared. You had no right to go out with her.”
He looks sad and maybe a little guilty, which surprises me. Sawyer apologizes for nothing. “It just happened, and I don’t regret it.”
Well, there it is. Now my anger is back. “Wow. Of course you fucking don’t.”
“I don’t. She was my friend too, and I have no idea how that happened, how Vivienne Crenshaw became my friend, but she did. And you were off convincing us that you were happy just being friends. I believed it, and so did she. And then I fell for her too.”
“I thought you said it wasn’t love?”
“It wasn’t,” he answers easily. “But God, I wanted it to be. It made sense. I thought we could make it work. You and I are similar. She was in love with you. I thought—maybe, just maybe—she would love me too and then I would fall in love with her.”
I don’t know what to say, so for once, I just listen.
“But once again, life fucked me because it should have been so simple. I wanted to try to love her. She wanted to love, but it still wasn’t right. So now, all of us are just going to be alone and miserable. But you two don’t have to be.”
“I don’t want her.”
He rolls his eyes. “Bullshit. I know you, and I should have seen it then. I thought I did—that’s why I brought it up so many times—but I let you convince me you weren’t capable of it.”
“I’m not,” I say through gritted teeth.
“That’s for you to decide because if you’re not man enough to commit to her, then you should stay away. Don’t be weak.”
“Fuck. You.”
He turns away from me, starting toward the door but turns around, his face looking more broken than I’ve ever seen it. “Did you fuck her?”
I know the “her” he’s talking about. “It’s always back to Piper for you, isn’t it?”
His jaw ticks, but he doesn’t say anything.
“No.”
His eyes search for any sign of deceit. “I can take it.”
“You’re hoping I'll say yes. I know you too. You want the pain, but I can’t give it. I called her, but she was here.” Which I'm assuming he already knew. He’ll always keep track of Piper.
“How did she sound?”
Christ. I almost pity the poor bastard. “Angry.”