Page 34 of The Inevitable Us
“Rosalie, I have to be at Taylee’s at seven a.m. I’m so tired, and I just want to hold you for a few hours while I can.”
I move over to what is apparently “my side,” taking the good pillow with me.
He pulls back the comforter, sliding in wearing only his boxers. He scoots over to spoon me, pulling me into his growing erection.
He pulls my hair back off my neck and out of his face and trails kisses down it while his right hand goes down my waist and hips to my ass. He cups it in one hand and turns me to face him. He leans in, and his tongue invades my mouth before going back to my neck. “You’re not ready yet, and I’m too fucking tired,” he growls out.
He draws me closer to him, laying my head on top of his chest. “Goodnight, Rosalie.”
“Goodnight, Sawyer.”
Ihavethreedaysuntil I officially start school and hours until I see Sawyer again. He came over again last night in the middle of the night. He rolled me over tomy side of the bedand pulled the comforter over us. The bed still smells like him when I wake up, but his side of the bed is cold. I vaguely remember a gentle kiss and a whispered, “I’ll see you tonight.”
I’ve spent the day dancing in the kitchen while I slowly prepare the sauce. The iced coffee I made from pre-packaged cold brew just isn’t cutting it, so I decide to go to the coffee shop down the street.
“We need to stop meeting like this,” Garreth says as we bump into each other in the apartment foyer. He’s giving me a half smile some women probably find charming and carrying multiple large bottles of hard liquor.
“Time to stock up the wet bar?” I ask, gesturing to the alcohol.
His Adam’s apple bobs and his shoulders sag. “Party tonight at our place. Thought you were coming?” he asks, blinking.
I grimace, and feel my face grow flush. I’d forgotten about the party. Had I promised to go? “I’m so sorry, I….” I look towards the door, eager to escape. “I made plans for supper tonight with a friend from home. Maybe some other time?”
He gives me a jaunty wave. “Stop in anyway if you have time. Follow the noise to our loft.”
I wave back, heading on foot to the coffee shop and the Italian bakery, hoping they have slices of tiramisu.
Idon’twanttolook too dressed up, but I want to look nice for Sawyer tonight. He’s always in a suit since he comes straight from work. I finally settled on a scoop neck black knit dress with black sandals and my hair up and out of the way while cooking. I’ve made fresh rolls from scratch to go with the red sauce, and baked meatballs with my favorite sausage.
He’s supposed to come at six, so I’ve timed everything perfectly so that supper is just simmering at five forty-five.
My phone pings ten minutes before he’s due to arrive, and I walk over to check it. My heart sinks a little when I read the text:
Sawyer: In a business meeting I can’t just walk out of. I’m going to be late. I’m so sorry.
Rosalie: It’s totally fine. Think you’ll be there for a while?
Sawyer: I’m trying to leave at my first opportunity. My phone is at 3% so if I don’t text it’s because I couldn’t get to a charger in time.
I timed the rolls perfectly, so that they would have been warm with our meal. Now they sit cooling on the counter,
At seven pm, my stomach is protesting loudly at my missed meal. I blow out the scented candles I’ve lit and curl up on the couch with my food and my hurt feelings. I know sometimes meetings run late, but it’s been an hour.
It’s dark outside through my opened curtains when I check to see if any of the office lights are on across the street. None are lit, My eyes prickle with tears and I’m pouting into my empty bowl of pasta when there’s a knock at the door. Definitely not Sawyer.
“Saw your car in the lot, Stalker Girl,” Garreth says through the door. Our parking spots are numbered, so he’d know my car is here, but I theoretically could be on foot or with someone else. “Open the door? I wanna talk.”
Ugh, go away. I’m sad over being stood up and don’t have the patience for you.
I walk to the door and open it halfway. “Hey, Garreth, I’m not feeling up to company tonight.”
“Can I come in? For a little while? I brought beer.” He holds up a six-pack of beer, his eyes dancing with mischief.
“Aren’t you throwing a party?” I ask wryly with a lift of the eyebrow.
He clears his throat and rubs his neck. “My roommate is, and I’m kinda over it. Give me shelter from the noise?” He asks, shooting me one of those charming half boyish smiles.
I drop my head, defeated. “I have homemade rolls. Why don’t you….”