Page 83 of Heartsmashed
I ran my fingers through his hair, feeling him relax against me. So open. So trusting.
And that was where the guilt found me again.
Not enough to ruin the moment, but it was there, reminding me every second that I kept my mouth shut. Because this hadn’t been casual. It wasn’t part of my role or a game or some blurred line we could blame on the wine.
This was Sawyer. And I wanted all of him.
His heart. His ridiculous commentary at the worst possible times, the way he made a room warmer just by walking into it.
The way he’d looked at me tonight like I was someone he wanted to keep…
I felt his breathing change, slowing down and evening out, and when I looked down, his eyes were closed.
“Becks?” he murmured.
“Yeah?”
“Don’t go anywhere.”
The words came out sleepy, a little slurred, but they hit me directly in the chest.
My throat was tight as I held him closer. “I’m right here.”
Sawyer made a small, satisfied sound, and then he was out, still curled into me.
I stared up at the ceiling for a long time after that, running my hand along his back slow and steady, even as everything inside me turned restless.
I had to tell him. Soon. Because I wasn’t pretending anymore.
And if I wanted the right to stay, he deserved to know whom he was asking.
23
SAWYER
IWOKE UP before the sun, and that never happened. I wasnota before-the-sun person. I was barely an after-the-sun person, unless strong coffee was involved and no one expected conversation from me for at least a half-hour. The only time I saw a sunrise was when I’d made a terrible decision and stayed out too late.
This morning, though?
I woke up smiling like an idiot. It was like those cheesy commercials, the ones where the person in bed stretched beneath white sheets, smiling and fresh-faced while birds chirped and sunlight filtered in from the windows. That was what I felt like, only I had a hot-as-hell man in the bed beside me.
Beckett was sleeping hard, and I’d spent most of the night with his arm around my waist and his chest warm at my back, though at some point we’d moved, no longer touching but lying close side by side.
For a long time I just watched him, hardly able to believe he was there. That somehow this whole fake boyfriend thing had turned into something real. My entire world had flipped on its head the second he walked into my life, so unexpected.
And God, last night. I’d expected heat. I knew Beckett would be good at it too, because he was good at almost everything, and his kisses had been more than enough proof he knew what he was doing.
It was the aftermath that I hadn’t expected. The way he’d taken care of me, just as attentive after sex as he was in making sure he wrung every pleasure out of my body. His soft touches, the way he’d held me and stroked me until I’d drifted off into several hours of blissful sleep.
When I woke up, my first thought was:I could get used to this.It was a terrifying thought, though, because what if he only wanted the same while we were here? What if we went back to the city and all we had was this perfect moment?
I’d eased out of the bed quietly, careful not to wake him, but Beckett didn’t stir. He looked so damn good all warm and rumpled in the sheets that I was tempted to crawl back between them and curl into his strong body.
But he needed sleep, and I needed to wring out some of this anxious energy. I glanced around the floor, looking for the clothes I’d thrown around last night in an effort to quickly get them off, and when my eyes caught on his track pants, a smile curved my mouth.
Before I could consider what I was doing, I pulled them on and then did the same with his oversized sweatshirt. The pants sat low on my hips and the sweatshirt was soft and warm and smelled faintly like him. So cozy and comforting, it made my stomach flip.
I took in a deep breath as I looked at him like he’d wake up and catch me. But his breathing was slow and steady, and I wrapped my arms around myself, his scent enveloping me as I slipped outside.
