felt myself letting go. My God, when did that ever happen? When did I ever truly just let loose? Never. I decided that I was going to take advantage of this night off from my normal self. I kind of liked this Megan, the free Megan. I had been her once, a long, long time ago. I began twirling and being silly, which felt strange to do with a total stranger. Or was he? I was still trying to figure that out. Sawyer would chuckle at me, and he even grabbed my hand and twirled me around a couple of times. I was surprised when he stepped back a little and began pretending like he was reeling in a fish. I laughed, and then recognizing what I was supposed to do, I began hopping to him like a fish out of water. This felt familiar too, like I had done it before. Who had I done this with? Feeling more comfortable than I probably should be with a maybe stranger, I kept hopping towards him. I let my body slowly collide into his, and his eyes warmed over in unison with his smile.
Sawyer gently set his large hands on my hips and then began swaying with me. Our eyes were locked, and holy fireworks! What was going on with me? My face was hot, my heart was pounding, my hands were shaking, my stomach was doing flips, and horses were running through my throat. I hadn’t felt anything like this since Charles, and I felt guilty, but only a little. Mostly it just felt good. It felt right. I don’t even know what song was playing at that point, because I was completely lost in Sawyer’s eyes. Eyes that I swear I knew. Reminder not to drink, ever.
In what felt like slow motion, the world stopped around us and Sawyer’s lips lowered to mine. His warm, soft lips brushed mine and my knees felt weak. I kissed him back, and unlike the kiss I shared with Travis recently, there were tingles, zings and fireworks in spades. One hand stayed on my hip as the other gently glided through my hair. I reached around his neck and pulled myself up closer to him on my tippy toes. And then as my lips were on his, I stilled, feeling instantly sober. A sudden realization of who I was kissing and why it seemed familiar swarmed through me. The reason why this kiss, this amazing kiss, felt like it had happened before was because it had—eight years ago. It couldn’t be. He was in Georgia. I was far, far away from where I’d left him. Oh, God. It can’t be.
My heart was beating through my chest and heat rushed to my face. I slowly backed my face away from his and looked up into his big, brown eyes in shock. He was taller, by at least a few inches, and older. His baby fat was gone and his hair was shorter, but I knew him. He looked down at me with a face of concern.
“SJ?” I whispered.
He smiled wide. “I was wondering how long it would take you, Pumpkin.”
My mouth dropped open at my childhood nickname, the one he had given me—no wonder it sounded familiar. Jeez, how drunk was I? I suddenly felt very sober as I stared at him in complete awe. Sawyer James Prescott, the kid I skipped rocks with and studied with and played with until the sun went down. He was here, in my arms, kissing me, just like he had all those nights ago, right before I abandoned him. Suddenly, something grabbed my arm from Sawyers neck, and I was flying through the crowd of sweaty dancers.
Chapter Eight
Megan
I looked around to try and understand what was happening, and then looked down to see a man’s hand on my arm. My heart sped up a little, bringing back a flash of a memory that I thought I had long forgotten. I pulled the memory back, stopping it from flashing in my mind anymore, and looked up from the hand to a very pissed Travis. He was taking a deep breath and shaking his red face at me. “What the fuck, Megan!” My voice got caught in my throat. He walked to me and placed hands on both my arms, lightly shaking me. “Are you drunk? You have been gone for an hour! I couldn’t find you!” I tilted my head. An hour? Seriously? “You’re out there kissing some—”
Sawyer gently set his large hands on my hips and then began swaying with me. Our eyes were locked, and holy fireworks! What was going on with me? My face was hot, my heart was pounding, my hands were shaking, my stomach was doing flips, and horses were running through my throat. I hadn’t felt anything like this since Charles, and I felt guilty, but only a little. Mostly it just felt good. It felt right. I don’t even know what song was playing at that point, because I was completely lost in Sawyer’s eyes. Eyes that I swear I knew. Reminder not to drink, ever.
In what felt like slow motion, the world stopped around us and Sawyer’s lips lowered to mine. His warm, soft lips brushed mine and my knees felt weak. I kissed him back, and unlike the kiss I shared with Travis recently, there were tingles, zings and fireworks in spades. One hand stayed on my hip as the other gently glided through my hair. I reached around his neck and pulled myself up closer to him on my tippy toes. And then as my lips were on his, I stilled, feeling instantly sober. A sudden realization of who I was kissing and why it seemed familiar swarmed through me. The reason why this kiss, this amazing kiss, felt like it had happened before was because it had—eight years ago. It couldn’t be. He was in Georgia. I was far, far away from where I’d left him. Oh, God. It can’t be.
My heart was beating through my chest and heat rushed to my face. I slowly backed my face away from his and looked up into his big, brown eyes in shock. He was taller, by at least a few inches, and older. His baby fat was gone and his hair was shorter, but I knew him. He looked down at me with a face of concern.
“SJ?” I whispered.
He smiled wide. “I was wondering how long it would take you, Pumpkin.”
My mouth dropped open at my childhood nickname, the one he had given me—no wonder it sounded familiar. Jeez, how drunk was I? I suddenly felt very sober as I stared at him in complete awe. Sawyer James Prescott, the kid I skipped rocks with and studied with and played with until the sun went down. He was here, in my arms, kissing me, just like he had all those nights ago, right before I abandoned him. Suddenly, something grabbed my arm from Sawyers neck, and I was flying through the crowd of sweaty dancers.
Chapter Eight
Megan
I looked around to try and understand what was happening, and then looked down to see a man’s hand on my arm. My heart sped up a little, bringing back a flash of a memory that I thought I had long forgotten. I pulled the memory back, stopping it from flashing in my mind anymore, and looked up from the hand to a very pissed Travis. He was taking a deep breath and shaking his red face at me. “What the fuck, Megan!” My voice got caught in my throat. He walked to me and placed hands on both my arms, lightly shaking me. “Are you drunk? You have been gone for an hour! I couldn’t find you!” I tilted my head. An hour? Seriously? “You’re out there kissing some—”
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