“Right.” I decide to play along, shaking off the disappointment at him shutting down. It occurs to me he did the exact same thing last year, turned the focus back to me whenever we ventured close to his childhood. “So, some kids like to take appliances apart. I liked taking code apart to see how it worked. My dad caught me watching YouTubes on hacking when I was ten and asked Lee to find me a mentor that would veer me down the legal path of the trade.”
“A bit of a rule-breaker, are we now?” Sawyer flashes me this grin, an up-to-no-good one that comes with a rascal’s gaze, and then he does it. The slow, deliberate once-over that probably has panties dropping on every continent he sets foot in. Mine included.
“You like that, Huckleberry?” I lean forward, my arms resting on the table, effectively pushing my chest up because two can play this game. It’s an instinctive response, flirting and teasing him, one I should have been more vigilant in tamping down. This loose and carefree version of Sawyer is fun to be around, and it makes me want to do whatever it takes to keep him out and about.
This Sawyer is pushing the memories of his shitty behavior last year, and the knowledge that this connection I’m feeling is fake, to the back of my mind.
His eyes drop, and his grin broadens, then he stands abruptly and offers me his hand.
“Come on, let’s dance.” I examine his outstretched arm, wondering what his play is. “Just a dance, Maddie,” he promises.
I think for a moment longer before shrugging and placing my palm in his. “Might as well have some fun in this pretend friendship.”
“That’s the spirit!” Sawyer pulls me up and into his broad chest.
My first thought is,oh my. Washboard is not the word I’d choose to describe the body currently flexing under my palm as Sawyer moves across the dance floor with surprising agility. Rather, hard hills of rolling muscles that feel as if they were cut out of diamonds, the feel of them under my palms just as exhilarating now as it was back then.
With the quiet evening crowd heading home, the nighttime patrons have cleared out the middle of the deck to create a makeshift dance floor.
Sawyer wiggles his eyebrows with a broad grin as the music turns upbeat, and I jokingly squeeze his bicep and wiggle my eyebrows right back at him.
He laughs and tightens his hold on me.
“You ready?” he asks over the music that’s starting to get louder.
“For what?” I raise my voice to conquer the bass. Sawyer just winks, a twinkle in his eyes that has me bracing myself for whatever mayhem he’s about to cause. Then the world starts spinning and dipping, forcing me to focus on his face so I won’t lose my balance, everything becoming a blur except for those intense blue eyes.
The tempo dwindles, and a slow song comes on. Sawyer spins me into his chest, his large possessive palm resting at the small of my back as he sways us to the beat. He seems completely level, except for the throbbing vein in his neck that gives away how fast his heart is beating. Sawyer smiles and leans down, his mouth at my ear.
“Was that enough fun for you, Madeline?” His tone is low and suggestive, trickling down to my toes. I’m flushed and breathless and it has nothing to do with the dance. “Would you like to dance some more, or do you need a breather?”
“Definitely a break.” I laugh, hoping the music is loud enough to mask the nervousness of it, patting Sawyer on the chest before sliding out of his grip and resuming my seat at the table. “Good show. Anyone who might be looking would think you’re trying to take thisfriendshipto the next level.”
“No way would we bejustfriends in real life.” He winks.
“Because you can’t keep it in your pants?” I try to stay light and humorous, but there’s too much weight behind those words, the kind that keeps creeping up on me. I don’t like this version of myself that’s carrying a grudge about a guy I never even had sex with, but something about Sawyer keeps stirring up this pull that I don’t want to feel, that I shouldn’t feel, and it’s unnerving because I’ve been scorned by him before.
“That’s right,” he says in a factual tone, grin still firmly in place. But it isn’t in his eyes anymore. “As my best friends keep saying, I’ll have sex with anything sporting a rack and a skirt.”
“Well then, it’s lucky I have a‘jeans only’rule for ourfriendlynights out.”
Sawyer freezes, his eyes blazing oh so slowly over me again before returning to my face.
“Well,” he starts, leaning forward with a gaze that’s too serious for the words that I’m positive are supposed to be a taunt. “For you, I just might make an exception.”
“And here I was thinking I don’t have to worry about you treating me like all the other boys do.” My retort pulls a rumbly laugh that sounds as if it was buried deep in his chest without any intention of ever leaving.Such a shamebecause it really is the best kind of sexy.
“Oh, baby, I’m no boy.” He trails a finger dangerously close to my hand. “But you already know that, don’t you?”
“That doesn't ease my mind about you trying to get me into bed.”
Sawyer raises an eyebrow, seeming torn between amusement to curiosity. In the end he seems to choose sensibility, pulling his hand back and offering a reassuring smile.
“Nothing to worry about. I’m just here to keep you alive. Which reminds me…” He digs around in the inner pocket of his jacket before handing me a thin gold cuff bracelet with a heart smack in the middle. “Since I don’t have to woo you into a friendship before showering you with jewelry, it’s best you have this now.”
“This being…?” I eye the jewelry suspiciously. It’s pretty, a sweet trinket if we were dating. Only we aren’t, so I can’t imagine why Sawyer would be giving me romantic gifts.
“A tracking device,” Sawyer answers as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Not an attempt to get into your jeans.”