Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
It’s just Sawyer.
Since when am I shy around Sawyer? Oh right, since always.
My older brother’s best friend always had this effect on me when I was growing up, but I never put much stock in it. He had that effect on everyone, including my best friend Kendra who was certifiably obsessed with Sawyer; in her eyes, no one could ever measure up. She wasn’t alone. Our entire town was head over heels for him, but within our friend group, Kendra laid claim to him early and protected that claim with a tenacious fortitude that would have made Napoleon proud.
I would have thought time away from Oak Hill and a full-fledged serious relationship with another man would have dulled some of Sawyer’s magnetism, but I guess not. How…unfortunate.
“Actually I’ll go with you,” David tells Hunter. “Don’t trust you to make it back with the drinks anytime soon.”
“What? You sayin’ I’m not good for a beer?”
David’s already pushing him out of the pool room. “I’m saying you’re the most annoyingly outgoing person I’ve ever met and it takes you thirty minutes to walk through a room ’cause you want to stop and yap with everybody.”
Hunter snorts. “Look who’s talkin’, Mr. Eagle!”
I can’t help but laugh at the mention of David’s old high school superlative.
They head out of the room as David replies, “That’s right. I’m practically royalty, and it’s time you start acting like it…”
I’m smiling still as I turn back to Sawyer. It’s just him and me in the back room now, and though the coward in me wants to start taking slow steps back toward the crowded bar, I stay put and ask something I’m curious about. “Did you come here tonight for the welcome home party?”
His smile says, Don’t flatter yourself, darlin’. “I play pool here with the guys most Fridays.”
“So it’s just a case of right place, right time. That’s convenient.”
His eyes spark with interest. “For who?”
I’m ashamed that I blush, just like that, from absolutely nothing except his unwavering gaze pinned right on me. “I just mean…that way you get the gossip firsthand.” I hate that my voice quivers with nerves. I hope he can’t hear it. “Don’t have to wait to hear what everyone’s whispering about tomorrow morning.”
I swear that spark dims a little as he nods in understanding. “I don’t pay much attention to what the town gossips have to say. According to them, you’re in a pitiful state at the moment what with your unexpected heartbreak and all.”
I’m surprised he’s willing to tell me what everyone’s been saying. “What else?”
He lays his cue against the side of the pool table and gets to work racking up the balls. “They wondered if maybe you’ve changed.”
I raise my brows. That’s not so bad. It could be worse.
His brown eyes peer up at me from where he’s bent over collecting balls from one of the pockets. “Some have speculated that you might have let yourself go toward the end of the relationship…”
I snort, unladylike as it might be, and shake my head. “Of course there had to be a reason, right? Guys don’t just break off engagements for no reason.”
He shrugs. “That’s what they were thinking.”
My chin takes on a hard set as I try to keep from getting worked up over a bunch of meaningless nonsense. People gossip in small towns. It’s what they do. Most of them probably see it as their God-given right: Thou shalt not steal. Thou shalt not covet. Thou shalt talk as much shit about thy neighbor as thy damn well please.
“Obviously they were wrong,” Sawyer says, drawing my attention back to him.
“Yeah?”
“That can’t be why the relationship ended.”
I consider what he’s saying, and then my cheeks heat so much they must be cherry red. It feels like a compliment, though it’s so tangled up with everything else we’ve been saying I doubt he genuinely meant it that way. Even if he did, he’s probably just trying to be nice.
“You still know how to play?” he asks, nodding at the pool table.
I grin. “Think I’ve gone soft living in Montgomery?”
David taught me how to play pool years ago, back when he and his friends were seniors and I was a lowly freshman. I learned in this very room, on these pool tables. I wasn’t ever very good and I’m definitely out of practice. Matthew wasn’t much of a pool kind of guy. He preferred tennis at the club on the weekdays and golf on the weekends. Playing pool in a smoky back room of a bar just wasn’t his style, and by extension, couldn’t be mine either.
Sawyer grabs a spare pool cue from where they’re mounted on the wall and holds it out for me to take. I curve around the table as I approach him, and though I’m wary of getting too close, I try not to show it.