Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 68599 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68599 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
I knew I was murmuring, and didn’t even know if he could hear me properly. But right as I was drifting to sleep, I heard his low voice.
“I’m right here. I’m here with you.”
It was the last thing I heard as I fell asleep.
13
HARLAN
I was somewhere between bliss and bewilderment when the quiet chirp of my phone’s message alert went off from the bathroom. I knew it was still tucked in the pocket of my pants from when Sawyer had greedily pulled them off me, which was a thought so mystifyingly hot I still couldn’t process that it had been real.
I carefully got up off the bed. I didn’t know why I bothered to be gentle, because at this point, I could have been playing bongo drums and doing jumping jacks on the bed, and Sawyer wouldn’t wake up.
I looked back at him, sleeping sweetly on my sheets, his light brown hair wild and unruly against the pillowcase. Even when his gorgeous eyes were closed, he still managed to hypnotize me. I could have stayed looking at him for hours, most likely, but another three sounds came rapidfire from my phone, and I headed in to check it.
More texts joined the first few even as I started to read. Some were from Jax and others from Rush, who were both still at the brewery, probably closing up shop.
>>Jax: Uh, Harlan, something is wrong with one of the tanks.
>>Rush: Sorry to bug you so late, but I think you might need to come in. I’ve tried every reset option and the thing is still on the fritz.
>>Jax: It’s like… beeping? But the beep sounds angry?
>>Jax: Rush doesn’t know what’s up with it. Oh. He’s texting you, too. Sorry, man.
>>Rush: Please tell me you’re still awake?
I jotted back a response quickly to both of them.
>>Harlan: Be there in three minutes.
I pulled on my clothes in fifteen seconds flat. I didn’t know what kind of error codes the tank was throwing up, but if Jax had described it as an “angry” beep, I knew it couldn’t just be something routine. Rush also knew a little bit about the tanks, and if he couldn’t figure it out, I knew it could be bad.
The whole tank of beer probably wouldn’t be ruined, but if it was, it would cost an obscene amount of money in wasted product and repairs.
And the tank probably wouldn’t explode, although that wasn’t unheard of, either.
I knew I had to go in immediately. I was halfway down the hall when I realized with a jolt that there was no way I was going to leave Sawyer here without a note, even if it was unlikely that he’d ever wake up.
I scribbled it out in the kitchen, writing with a marker on the back of a cardboard box.
Goose,
You’re amazing. Tank has a problem at the brewery. You’re my favorite person in the world. I’ll be back.
-Moose
P.S. That was really, really, really good.
My handwriting was rushed and looked like shit, but I propped the cardboard box on one of the nightstands and ran out to my truck.
I stepped on the gas, heading out for the quick drive to the brewery.
It had still probably only been half an hour since Sawyer had fallen asleep next to me, and I’d already been through an entire mental obstacle course and back again.
There was no doubt that tonight had probably been the most turned on I’d ever felt. And then the moment he’d fallen asleep near me, a small amount of worry seeped in, like a fog I couldn’t see at first but then started to wrap around everything surrounding me.
Because I knew what was coming. What was inevitable, really.
I was falling for him.
It wasn’t just that I loved him—I knew that, and I’d known it basically the whole time I’d known him. But falling for someone was another story entirely.
Something I’d trained myself to avoid at all costs.
It wasn’t just a matter of still grieving Thomas being gone. When he’d passed away, it had been the hardest thing I’d ever experienced. But even before Thomas—before I’d ever met him, when Sawyer and I were just two young idiots on Red Pinecone Farm, friends and spending every moment together, I’d forced myself to think only one thing when it came to thoughts of falling in love: push it away, push it away, push it away.
By the time I’d pulled my truck into the nearly empty Jade Brewery lot, my brain felt like a pinball being tossed around from one source of panic to another, over and over again.
I wanted everything with Sawyer to be perfect. I wanted to protect myself.
But right now, the only thing I had to do was shove all of those worries away, go inside, and make sure that a multi-thousand-dollar brewing tank wasn’t about to burst.