Series: Fever Falls Series by Riley Hart
Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 92704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
His expression twisted up. “I look at you all the time.”
“It’s very different since we actually started talking, really talking, back in Whistle Ridge. I don’t know. It’s like you actually see me now.”
“Maybe it’s more like you finally let me see you.”
I knew he was talking about that day in the chalet, but also today, when I’d opened up to him about my mother. Seemed like he’d finally let me see him as well, when we discussed his ex and his brother.
“And maybe,” Sawyer went on, “you haven’t noticed me looking at you because I typically do it when you’re looking elsewhere.”
Was I getting fucking goose bumps?
Oh, fuck me.
“Look who’s dishing it out as quick as I can give it,” I said, more than impressed at how good he was getting at finding his way under my skin.
Although, admittedly, it was slightly annoying.
“What you don’t see is that while I’m dishing it out, I’m quietly freaking out on the inside.”
Another reminder of all that was bubbling underneath the surface when it came to Sawyer Burke. He had a way of continuing to surprise me, and I wasn’t a huge fan of surprises.
Just when I thought he couldn’t get more annoying, he added, “So are you wanting to just drop the mom conversation you brought up earlier, or do we need to revisit that?”
I could tell he was trying to change the subject.
“And here I was enjoying the sexy flirtation so much more,” I remarked.
“We can always get back to that.”
I hesitated. This was definitely not a subject I talked with many people about, but the fact that I’d even mentioned it to him earlier was a miracle. And really, I was self-aware enough to know I’d gone to him for the purpose of talking to him about it—I didn’t know why the fuck I’d chosen him, and yet I had. I was all about jokes and distractions, and maybe I needed Serious Sawyer right then.
I picked at my steak with my fork. I was tempted to make a joke or find a way out, but what was the point of that?
“You know the type who can never be by themselves? They always have to be in a relationship? That’s my mom. It’s been that way since I was little. If there was an asshole within earshot, she’d find him. I always figured, with her tastes, it was easy enough for her to land a man because who else would have wanted these pricks? A few got a little physical with her when I was a kid. Never touched me, but they sure as hell wouldn’t spare me an insult or letting me know what a fucking sissy and pansy I was.”
“Carter, that’s awful.”
I shrugged at his comment, but my anger radiated through me, a searing heat, building as a few instances rushed through my thoughts.
“She married one of the assholes when I was in high school,” I continued, “junior year, and one night I was just trying to go out and see my friends—nothing to do with him. Mom wanted to know what time I’d be back, and he used that as his opportunity to call me a ‘fucking faggot.’ I assume it was something I was wearing or the new haircut I’d gotten…or maybe how I replied to my mom. I still can’t put my finger on it. It was like he’d been waiting to insult me.”
Sawyer’s hand balled into a fist on the table, his face turning red as his jaw clenched.
“I wish that had been the worst of it, but it was harder turning to my mother, sitting beside him…” I choked up at the memory, forcing out the rest because I wouldn’t be able to talk about it if I didn’t just spit it out. “And she had this sad look in her eyes. I could tell she didn’t agree, that she hated him for what he’d said, but she was such a fucking coward, she couldn’t stand up for her own son. It’s like I’ve always been number two to her, right after whatever bastard fuck she’d tethered herself to.”
I didn’t realize how much I’d been avoiding looking at Sawyer, until my eyes were back on his, appreciating the beauty of his irises once again.
And all of a sudden, I felt like I’d said way too fucking much. “Aren’t you wishing now you hadn’t asked?”
“No. I’m glad I did.”
So fucking serious.
So fucking honest.
Still looking as pissed as he had when I told him the story, he took a breath and reached across the table. Taking my hand, he said, “That’s horrible. You have every right to be upset about that.”
Despite how great he was being about it, all I could keep thinking was, Why the fuck did you just dump that on him?
“That’s not how family works,” he went on, and certainly, considering his relationship with his brother.