successfully fake sleep.
Ashton opened the door to the guest bedroom where my aunt had insisted I sleep instead of the extra mattress on the floor of Ashton’s room where I normally slept. I sat up and watched as she walked over to me wringing her hands. That one small nervous mannerism of hers told me that this was about Sawyer. Not something I wanted to talk about. At least not tonight.
“Um... do you, uh, do you like Sawyer?”
How blind could one person be? Ashton had always been clueless to the world around her. She had her little small bubble and she worried about what affected her and nothing more. Now, I was invading her bubble and she was noticing things that she should have picked up years ago.
“Yes, a little.”
Her bare perfectly tanned shoulders lifted with a sigh and she nodded. “I thought so.”
She sat down cautiously on the edge of the bed. I studied her face and wondered if the concern was for me or herself or possibly Sawyer.
“Sawyer wasn’t himself tonight. You know that,” she lifted her eyes to meet mine and I only saw sadness. No jealousy or anxiety. She was just sad.
“I know. I didn’t even realize he drank. I thought that was Beau’s MO.”
“He normally doesn’t. Tonight was a side of Sawyer I’d never seen before. He was very... Beau-like. Or at least the way Beau used to be.”
Her words made everything click. The puzzle that Sawyer had created tonight all fell into place. He had acted like Beau back when Beau wanted Ashton and didn’t have her. A small ache in my chest started and unfortunately, it was all too familiar. It was the same ache I felt when I’d seen the tender, completely devoted look Sawyer would bestow on Ashton every time he glanced her way. Which had been often.
“Makes sense,” I muttered, more to myself than to Ashton.
Instead of asking me what I meant, she only nodded and stared helplessly at the pale blue wall across from her. At least she got it and I wouldn’t have to spell it out for her. Sawyer was coping with not having Ashton by drinking and acting out. It had been six months for crying out loud. How long did he need?
“He texted me tonight.”
“Who?” I assumed she was talking about Sawyer but with Ashton you never could be sure which Vincent boy she was talking about.
“Sawyer. He asked about you. Wanted me to tell you he was sorry.”
My stupid heart sped up and I tried to keep my face composed. I reminded myself he’d probably been more worried about Ashton’s feelings than mine.
“Oh,” was the only response I could muster.
“I don’t know what his motives are Lana. I mean you are gorgeous and he is a guy. I can see that he could be interested in you--”
“But you’re also worried he’s using me to get to you,” I finished her thought for her.
Ashton pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and grimaced. Yep, it sounded bad when said out loud. But it was the truth.
“The Sawyer I know, the Sawyer I loved isn’t calculating and cruel. But the Sawyer I knew also would have never gotten drunk at a party and made out with a girl in public. Heck, I’m pretty sure you did more with Sawyer on that couch than I did with Sawyer during the three years we dated.” Ashton let out a hard short laugh, “I basically had to beg him to do more than a few chaste kisses. He was so controlled. Tonight, when I came downstairs and saw the two of you and well—his
Ashton opened the door to the guest bedroom where my aunt had insisted I sleep instead of the extra mattress on the floor of Ashton’s room where I normally slept. I sat up and watched as she walked over to me wringing her hands. That one small nervous mannerism of hers told me that this was about Sawyer. Not something I wanted to talk about. At least not tonight.
“Um... do you, uh, do you like Sawyer?”
How blind could one person be? Ashton had always been clueless to the world around her. She had her little small bubble and she worried about what affected her and nothing more. Now, I was invading her bubble and she was noticing things that she should have picked up years ago.
“Yes, a little.”
Her bare perfectly tanned shoulders lifted with a sigh and she nodded. “I thought so.”
She sat down cautiously on the edge of the bed. I studied her face and wondered if the concern was for me or herself or possibly Sawyer.
“Sawyer wasn’t himself tonight. You know that,” she lifted her eyes to meet mine and I only saw sadness. No jealousy or anxiety. She was just sad.
“I know. I didn’t even realize he drank. I thought that was Beau’s MO.”
“He normally doesn’t. Tonight was a side of Sawyer I’d never seen before. He was very... Beau-like. Or at least the way Beau used to be.”
Her words made everything click. The puzzle that Sawyer had created tonight all fell into place. He had acted like Beau back when Beau wanted Ashton and didn’t have her. A small ache in my chest started and unfortunately, it was all too familiar. It was the same ache I felt when I’d seen the tender, completely devoted look Sawyer would bestow on Ashton every time he glanced her way. Which had been often.
“Makes sense,” I muttered, more to myself than to Ashton.
Instead of asking me what I meant, she only nodded and stared helplessly at the pale blue wall across from her. At least she got it and I wouldn’t have to spell it out for her. Sawyer was coping with not having Ashton by drinking and acting out. It had been six months for crying out loud. How long did he need?
“He texted me tonight.”
“Who?” I assumed she was talking about Sawyer but with Ashton you never could be sure which Vincent boy she was talking about.
“Sawyer. He asked about you. Wanted me to tell you he was sorry.”
My stupid heart sped up and I tried to keep my face composed. I reminded myself he’d probably been more worried about Ashton’s feelings than mine.
“Oh,” was the only response I could muster.
“I don’t know what his motives are Lana. I mean you are gorgeous and he is a guy. I can see that he could be interested in you--”
“But you’re also worried he’s using me to get to you,” I finished her thought for her.
Ashton pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and grimaced. Yep, it sounded bad when said out loud. But it was the truth.
“The Sawyer I know, the Sawyer I loved isn’t calculating and cruel. But the Sawyer I knew also would have never gotten drunk at a party and made out with a girl in public. Heck, I’m pretty sure you did more with Sawyer on that couch than I did with Sawyer during the three years we dated.” Ashton let out a hard short laugh, “I basically had to beg him to do more than a few chaste kisses. He was so controlled. Tonight, when I came downstairs and saw the two of you and well—his
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