Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 87736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
I looked over my shoulder, expecting to find Maddox, but felt my heart drop out at the sight of the one person I hadn’t expected to see anytime soon. Or that I wanted to see.
Sawyer.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
SAWYER
If I’d been paying attention to where I was going, I would have been able to stop myself long before Apollo felt the vibrations of my boots striking the earth, but I’d been so preoccupied with thoughts of Jett that I hadn’t even realized I’d taken the long way to get to my apartment above the garage.
As it was, I’d only gotten to see the dog and Jett actually touching through the fence for a couple of seconds before Apollo had taken off. My first instinct was to run to Jett and celebrate the small victory with him, but one look at Jett’s face told me what a monumentally bad idea that would be.
Pain radiated throughout my body as I watched Jett’s dark eyes study me for a moment before he turned his back and began moving his chair away from the fence. I knew I deserved everything he had to say to me, but it didn’t make it any easier to close the distance between us.
As I neared Jett, I saw that he was struggling to get his chair over some large tree roots. I automatically reached for the chair to help him.
“Don’t you fucking dare touch me,” Jett said coldly. He didn’t yell the words and he didn’t look at me when he said them, but the ice in his tone had me quickly stepping back.
I didn’t know this Jett. All the times he and I had gone at one another and I’d never heard him talk to me or anyone else with such icy… finality. Even when he’d been cursing Maddox out on the day he’d arrived, I’d never truly been afraid of him.
I couldn’t say the same thing now.
I put more than a dozen feet between us and remained silent and unmoving as Jett freed himself from the roots and got his chair on the gravel path. He ignored me and began rolling his chair up the slightly inclined path.
“Jett, can I please talk to you?” I asked as I started to follow him. “I know I have no right to ask you for anything—”
Jett came to a sudden stop and jerked his chair around. “You know what, we’re not doing this again. What do you want, Sawyer?”
The blunt question caught me off guard, as did the continued harshness of his voice.
“I, um, I just wanted to say—”
“That you’re sorry?” Jett supplied before I could finish. “For which part exactly? Making me believe that moment meant something to you like it did me or for leaving me on the floor like I was nothing? But, oh, wait, that’s right. You were considerate enough to clean your jizz off me first so that probably counts for something, right?” he spat. “And let’s not forget you covering me with a blanket and making sure my chair was nearby.” Jett opened his arms. “Why should you be sorry? You proved I’m still a man. I should be thanking you for taking pity—”
“You know that’s not what it was,” I shouted as I forgot about the potential danger and closed the distance between us. “I don’t fucking feel sorry for you, Jett!” I said as I leaned over him and practically got in his face. “What happened between us was perf—”
Jett grabbed my shirt and jerked me forward.
Hard.
“Don’t you fucking say that word to me, Sawyer. Ever. Nothing about you and me is perfect,” he snapped before releasing me.
His eyes went blank. Emotionless. “Was there anything else?” he asked simply.
Like nothing had happened.
Not that day in his room, not this very moment.
I knew in that instant that he was wiping the slate clean. He was doing what I’d gotten so good at. He was putting me in some dark place in his mind and leaving me there. Nothing about him said he was on the verge of some kind of emotional breakdown that would make me worry about him.
He was done. Just done.
I knew if I asked him to forgive me, he’d say yes because he just didn’t give a shit. Not about me, not about what we’d done, not about what we’d felt.
How he’d made me feel.
The loss was worse than anything I’d known. He wasn’t even letting me say goodbye.
Not really.
The Jett who’d finally realized I was everything that Marcus had said I was just wanted me gone. The Jett who’d told me I was beautiful and had kissed me with such reverence was no more.
It was exactly what I should have wanted. We’d be able to exchange polite words when we passed one another, there’d be no awkward tension when we joined the family for dinner; we would just… be.