I pressed my body into his as his hand slid up my thigh, to the lacy thong I wore beneath the dress. One more moment, one more touch and he would take me upstairs, and it would be too late to tell him. I wouldn’t have to. It would be so easy…
“Jesus,” Sawyer whispered. He backed off so that the only place we touched was his forehead pressed to mine, and his hands on my hips, bracing himself. “Okay, wait,” he said. “I want to take you out. I’m going to take you out.” He grinned sheepishly. “Just give me a minute.”
My heart ached at that grin, one that I don’t think many people saw. He was so serious, so stressed, all the time. But with me he smiled and made jokes and let himself be a little bit vulnerable.
And once I told him what I’d done, it would all go away.
I took his handsome face in my hands. “Do you ever wish you could take a moment and keep it forever? Like right now…how you taste on my mouth, and your hands on me, and your eyes…God, Sawyer, the way you’re looking at me… If I could have just one moment, one feeling, and live in it forever, I would choose this one.”
Sawyer’s brows came together, his smile tilting. “No one’s ever said anything to me like that before.” His hands came up to take mine. “But you look...sad. Is everything okay?”
The words came to my lips and I nearly let them out. I drew in a breath…and let that out instead.
“Yes, sure. Sorry, I don’t know what came over me. I’m hungry, I guess. We can go. We should go.”
Sawyer held the door for me, and I walked down to the street, wishing for San Francisco’s allegedly famous cold wind to slap some sense into me. But the heat wave was lingering long enough that I hardly needed my coat.
“The restaurant isn’t far,” he said. “We could walk or Uber. Up to you.”
“Let’s walk,” I said. Maybe, I thought, if I kept moving my body, I could work out the nerves and be able to talk. “So…where is Olivia tonight?”
“Jackson took her over to Henrietta’s,” Sawyer said. “Olivia knows her. Before I moved to the old Vic and was blessed with the miracle of Elena, Henrietta did all my babysitting.”
“Have you lived in the Victorian long?”
“Almost a year now. When Olivia’s mom left her with me, I had to move there.”
“Why?
“Jackson and I, and some buddies of ours, had a killer place on Stanyon Street. Big parties every month. Not a place to raise a baby.”
“No, I guess not,” I said.
His expression took on a tint of faint wistfulness, as if he were talking about something he’d had that was gone forever.
“All of UC Hastings showed up at our parties. They all had costume themes, like Marvel heroes, favorite musicians, evil-doers. No costume, no admittance.”
“Evil-doers?”
“Yeah, you had to dress as a villain. From anything; movies, comics, TV, books…It was awesome.” He chuckled. “One time, a chick showed up dressed as Lizzie Borden and brought her own axe.”
“A real axe?”
“We confiscated that pretty quickly. Axes and tequila do not mix.” The wistful look came over his face again. “Yeah, those were fun times. Seems like a lifetime ago. Olivia’s lifetime ago.”
“Do you miss it?” I asked.
“Yeah, I do,” he said. “But she’s worth it. No more parties for me.”
“Yeah, me too,” I said, keeping my gaze firmly on the sidewalk sliding under my boots. “I used to party pretty hard.”
There. That was the truth. Ish.
“Yeah?” Sawyer asked. “If I had an Evil-Doer party next weekend, who would you come as?”
A convict.
“I don’t know,” I said. “Catwoman, I think. Michelle Pfeiffer’s version.”