“Why not? It’s cute.”
“It’s childish and stupid.”
“Oh, come on.” I scoffed. “Surely you can see how cute it is. Such a funny coincidence.”
“Yeah, one I haven’t heard a million times,” he muttered. “Anyway, I’m going to be an attorney, not a lawyer.”
“What’s the difference?”
“If you finish law school, you’re a lawyer. If you pass the bar and are licensed to practice, you’re an attorney. I’m going to be an attorney.”
“Sawyer the Attorney doesn’t have the same ring to it.” I fished my phone out of my backpack. “Wikipedia says the terms are practically interchangeable.” I shot him a grin.
He sighed, and a tired chuckle escaped him, one that seemed to surprise him. He gave me another perplexed look.
“I’ve never met anyone like you,” he said. “You’re like a…”
“I’m like a, what?”
Our eyes met and held, and despite the perpetual supermarket cold, I felt warm in Sawyer’s gaze. His stiff expression loosened, the tension he carried on him eased slightly. He was locked up tight, this guy; but for that handful of heartbeats, I saw him. A thought slipped into the crevices of my mind.
He’s lonely.
Then Sawyer blinked, shook his head and looked away. “Nothing,” he said. The tension came back—I could feel it like a prickly force field around him—and I was locked out again. “Let’s get out of here before your magic baby biscuit wears off.”
I smiled and followed after silently, while internally I was dying to know what he’d been about to say.
Maybe nothing good, I thought. That was likely; I didn’t know when to stop talking and got all up in people’s business.
But that warm feeling in my chest—in the general vicinity of my heart—didn’t go away. Sawyer had been about to pay me a compliment, I was sure of it. Nothing boring or bland—he was too smart for that. But something extraordinary, maybe.
A compliment that didn’t sound like a compliment but it was, because it was made only for me.
You’re the one being silly now, I thought, and walked with him to the checkout. But it seemed that I’d traveled three thousand miles, and the deep longing to have someone see me trailed after like a shadow I would never shake.
Sawyer
We walked home together, Olivia and I…and my new neighbor.
How in the hell did this happen?
Mere hours ago, it had been a typical Friday. While the rest of my friends and fellow law students were out drinking or partying to blow off the stress of Third Year, I was going to make dinner for my daughter, play and read with her before bath time, then put her to bed and study until m
y eyes gave out.
And now…
Now, Darlene Montgomery was going to cook dinner for me.
Mental alarms and whistles were going off, telling me this was a bad idea. I didn’t bring women home anymore, and yet I’d caved so easily. I chalked it up to my fatigue and her energy. Darlene must be a flexible dancer, I thought, because she slipped past all of my usual barricades and defenses, bending and contorting herself through a field of red laser beams like a ninja in a spy movie.
One dinner. That’s it.
Twilight had fallen, coppery and warm, as we walked. Darlene talked nonstop about the differences between New York and San Francisco. I thought it would drive me crazy but I liked listening to her. She had a pretty voice, and my conversations these days consisted mostly of cajoling my kid to eat her peas, or listening to law students bitch about finals.
My eyes kept stealing glances at her.
In the grocery store, my photographic memory had taken an entire reel of just her face. She was a collage of striking features—a wide mouth, large eyes, full lips, high cheekbones, dark eyebrows—not one aspect insignificant.