Page 16 of Heartsmashed
I wanted to ask more. Get all the details about who Peter was, how long they were together, and what happened in the end. But Sawyer would open up when he was ready, and right now was obviously not the moment, not when his fingers tightened around the steering wheel.
I had a feeling the closer we got to our destination, the more he’d begin to tense, and I wanted his mind off that as much as possible. So I leaned forward, flicking on the radio again.
“Why don’t you give me my own private radio show?” I said, shooting him a wink. “No callers. No exes. No need to spiral for my entertainment.”
Sawyer laughed softly, glancing in the side mirror before switching lanes. “Careful, Beckett. You might regret that.”
6
SAWYER
BY THE TIME we pulled up to the main lodge a couple of hours later, I’d officially gone fromthis is the best idea I’ve ever hadtowhat the hell have I done.
Somewhere between leaving the city and here, I’d actually started to believe this might work.
Well, probably around the time I’d accidentally turned on a clip from my own radio show and wanted to drive straight into the river from embarrassment, only for Beckett to turn it into an easy back-and-forth that had me talking and laughing more than I had in weeks.
And then I’d given him the private radio show he’d asked for, which, for once, didn’t include the bitter version of me that had taken over lately. It was unnerving, the way he met me where I was so easily…with only a light bit of teasing, which I totally deserved.
I didn’t know how he could be so calm walking into a situation like this. I was a nervous wreck, and Iknewall the players.
The large, rustic port cochere was lit up with warm lights and fall foliage, and as I drove beneath it and put the car in park, I took one look at the entrance and began to sweat.
God, maybe it was wishful thinking that this week would go well. That Beckett and I could pull off faking it as a couple. Maybe I should’ve stayed home, hidden away in my apartment instead of showing my face.
My hands were shaking as a valet started in our direction, and I swallowed hard.
“Okay,” I said, reaching for my keys. “So just to recap, we’re going to go get checked in, say super-quick hellos, very chill, no pressure?—”
“Sawyer.”
When I didn’t answer, Beckett laid his hand on my wrist and gently pried my keys away, since apparently I was doing a shit job at getting it off.
The keys. Getting thekeysoff.
God.
“Breathe with me,” he said as he easily worked the fob away and then lifted his eyes to mine. It would be too easy to get lost in those eyes, so blue and calm and focused, like nothing rattled him.
The valet tapped on my window, but Beckett lifted a finger, never breaking our connection, taking a deep breath in, holding it for a few seconds, then exhaling. And repeat. I found myself following his lead, because the alternative was gunning it back to the city, and that would have everyone talking more than walking in with “my new boyfriend” would right now.
Boyfriend… Beckett is myboyfriend. Boyfriend, boyfriend, boyfriend.
“You good?” he asked.
I managed to nod. “I think we’ve avoided a panic attack for now.”
“Good.” He stroked my fingers with his thumb, a reassuring gesture, but it did the opposite, jolting me like there was a current of electricity flowing from his fingertips into mine.
I hadn’t even realized he was touching me, which was exactly why staring into his hypnotic eyes was a dangerous thing. They made you wanna fall into them.
Not fair. Not fair at all.
He noticed the way my hands instinctively jerked away from his and arched a brow.
“You plan to freak out when I reach for your hand tonight?”
“No, of course not.”
