Page 52 of For the Record

Unease settled over Sawyer, and she tried to shake the feeling off. So what if McCoy had more casual flings than Sawyer could count on two hands? Hell, more than she could likely count on all her fingers and toes. Did it matter since McCoy had come to her tonight and not someone else?

Of course she would. She’s trying to win a bet, after all.

McCoy must have sensed Sawyer’s hesitation because she pulled out of her embrace, tugging at the collar of her dress shirt as she paced the office. “Yeah, I mean, why wouldn’t they?” A sarcastic laugh came forth, and Sawyer watched with muted interest as the younger woman slowly unraveled. “I’ve never had a girlfriend. The only sort of relationship I’ve ever had with someone was Frankie, and she wouldn’t let me touch her. Hell,” McCoy expressed with another self-deprecating laugh. “I’ve never even taken someone on a real date before.”

“Dates are overrated. So much pretense when the expected end result is always the same. Sex.” Sawyer crossed her arms. “Why bother at all?”

“But that’s not how it’s supposed to be.” McCoy closed the distance between them once more, taking Sawyer’s hands between her own. “My pops used to tell us all kinds of stories about mom and him; how they met, how they went on dates and slowly fell in love. Dating should be about the romance, too.”

“Really.”

“Yeah, I mean, I think so.” McCoy gave a vehement nod as if she desperately wanted to believe what she was saying. She lifted one of Sawyer’s hands to hold it palm down against her cheek, briefly closing her eyes at the contact. “If you would let me date you, actually date you, I’d romance the shit out of you.”

“For your bet,” Sawyer decided, though her heart sped up a little at the idea. It’d been years since she dated, longer since she’d been anywhere with someone she was genuinely attracted to.

“No, for me,” McCoy shook her head. “Foryou. To prove I can and will treat you better than he ever did. I’ll open up to you more than I have anyone else.”

“You’re already an open book,” Sawyer reasoned, but she had to fight back a smile.

McCoy laughed, a real one this time. She turned her face into Sawyer’s palm, kissing it softly. “Fair enough. But you’re not. Maybe … maybe dating me would change that.”

Sawyer stiffened, and unfortunately, McCoy felt her innate need to fight or flight. Her face fell, and she backed wordlessly away, but damnit, what did McCoy expect? That she’d spoil Sawyer with a handful of dates and she would then spill her guts? She hadn’t learned to master her life’s baggage over the years for nothing. But that wasn’t what McCoy was saying, was it? She wasn’t asking Sawyer to delve into sordid tales of her marriage or the trauma of her childhood that she’d stuffed so deep into the recesses of her mind that it only threatened her when she was asleep. No, realistically, all she hoped for from Sawyer were the more basic lighter facts. Tidbits of information into her personality that wouldn’t risk ruining dinner over.

The air in the office became saturated, thick and heavy with things left unsaid. Emotions ran high, and Sawyer struggled to catch her breath. She cleared her throat, not knowing what to say.

“It’s late,” McCoy said after several awkward moments in silence. She seemed lost, sad even, and when she turned to leave, Sawyer reached out, like she would hold her back, but then froze. She didn’t beg or plead, and isn’t that what she’d be doing now if she caved to McCoy’s whims? Or worse, if she apologized for being so aloof?

“Good night, Sawyer.”

McCoy’s rough tenor was a knife to Sawyer’s already frail heart. She cringed, worrying her bottom lip, and watched as McCoy unlocked the office door.

“Wait,” Sawyer blurted as the door opened. McCoy paused but didn’t turn around. Sawyer closed her eyes, unable to believe she was giving this notion a second thought. “I’m a busy person, McCoy. If you want a date, prove to me my time will be worth it.”

Chapter 27

McCoy

“It’s been two days.You can’t avoid me forever,” Sloane said, both hands on hips as she hovered beside the sofa in their apartment.

As painful as it was, Coy had discovered it was, in fact, possible to ignore her twin. All she had to do was resist eye contact and not fall for Sloane’s petulant need for attention, and this revenge could last at least a week.

“Naz, you hear something?” Coy asked, pulling her gaze from the video game they were playing on the TV to look at her friend.

Naz huffed a laugh, scratching her nose and looking everywhere but at the irate woman glowering at them. “Just the pathetic cries of defeat from whoever we’re playing,” she replied with a smirk. Sure enough, there was a bout of cursing in their headset coming from a fellow gamer.

Gotta love the bro code that keeps Naz from taking her side.

Thankfully, tiffs between Coy and Sloane were rare because she earnestly adored her sister. Just not when she crossed lines she had no business crossing. In her peripheral vision, Coy saw her sister pick up a throw pillow and biff it at her. With a shocked laugh, Coy maneuvered out of the way on the sofa and caught it, all without taking her eyes off the screen. Her avatar died, though, but they would have regardless because seconds later, Sloane was in front of her and Naz, blocking the TV.

“Aww, c’mon,” Naz cried, throwing her hands, controller and all, up in awhat the fuckmotion.

“Coy. Fucking look at me, please!” Sloane’s voice was elevated, bordering on shrill, like she was fighting back tears. No doubt part of her sick little game.

Coy wouldn’t be so easily persuaded. She had plans that didn’t involve mollycoddling someone who’d wronged her. Besides, part one of her plan to romance Sawyer had begun, and she needed her full attention on the reply that she was certain would come. Eventually. Coy had arranged for the bouquet to be delivered to Desmarais right before the supper rush, so it made sense Sawyer might take hours to acknowledge them.

“I did you a favor by inviting your old marks to the party,” Sloane insisted. “You saw you weren’t missing anything, right?”

“Don’tcall them that.” Coy tossed her game controller aside and pushed off the sofa, facing off with Sloane with a scowl. Her hands shook, and she crossed her arms so Sloane couldn’t see how upset she was. “You’re out of line, Sloane. Are you so bored with your own life that you’ve got to fuck with mine? Out of everyone, I thought you would understand. I thought—” Coy’s mouth snapped shut. She blinked, shock filling her as she felt the first burn of tears threatening. She swallowed, forcing her legs to turn away from Sloane and leave the room. The hell she would cry with an audience.