21. Sawyer

Chapter 21

Sawyer

What the hell was I thinking? Why the fuck did I agree to go on a date with some stranger?

No. Not just a stranger. A stranger and Violet and her date.

This was a huge mistake, I already feel it in my bones, and my unease is clear on my face as I run my hand through my hair in front of the bathroom mirror. I wish more than anything that I could back out, but I’ve already set up a sitter for Jake and gone through all the trouble of making sure everyone involved is on the same page and free for the night, so I can’t.

But good lord, do I want to.

I take a deep breath and finish buttoning up my suit jacket, then check to make sure everything’s straightened out and in its right place before I head downstairs. The sitter, a girl named Kelsey whom I’ve hired a couple of times before, is already here and sitting with Jake on the couch. She’s not the best sitter I’ve ever met—at this point, I don’t think anyone could compete with Violet—but she’s not the worst either. And on such short notice, I couldn’t be too picky.

Jake looks up when he hears me enter and smiles at me. I hold my hands out and give him a spin. “Well, how do I look?”

“Like you do every time you go to play hockey,” Jake answers, and Kelsey laughs.

“You’ve got me there,” I admit, chuckling.

This isn’t one of the suits I usually wear to the arena on game days, but I wouldn’t expect my little boy to know the difference. But despite my dislike for this entire situation, I didn’t want to let Violet down, so I put enough effort in to make myself look presentable. My jaw is freshly shaved, my hair is neatly styled, and my suit is a dark charcoal gray that I’ve been told complements my eyes.

Jake starts to say something else, but then his gaze shifts to the stairs behind me.

“Ms. Violet, you look so pretty!”

I turn to follow his focus and find Violet coming down the last few steps. My jaw nearly falls open, and my heart feels like it’s stopped. I’ve seen her wearing a lot of different things since she moved in—usually casual, comfortable things that effortlessly cling to her curves—but I’ve never seen her dressed up for a date.

It’s… heart-stopping.

The dress she’s wearing is simple but well-made, a form-fitting black material that hugs her frame and shows off her silhouette, falling to just above her knees. Her soft blonde hair is lightly curled at the ends and spilling over her shoulders like liquid gold, and she’s wearing a deep candy-apple red lipstick in a matte sheen that makes her full lips stand out even more.

“She looks like an angel, doesn’t she, Daddy?” Jake asks, but his voice sounds distant and muffled in my brain like it’s coming through the walls of another room.

I can’t take my eyes off Violet, can’t stop drinking in all the little details about her. Her body is like a study in geometry, an almost perfect hourglass shape that’s all beautiful angles and soft edges.

“She looks like a heartbreaker,” I murmur, then tense up a little when I realize I actually spoke the words aloud.

Violet smiles as she steps off the last stair, one hand still gripping the railing, and glances down. She seems almost shy, which I don’t think I’ve ever picked up from her before, and it makes a protective urge swell in my chest.

“You clean up pretty well yourself, mister,” Violet says when she finally lifts her eyes to meet mine. Her gaze darts over me quickly, and although the look doesn’t linger long, it’s enough to have my heart pumping faster.

“Ready?” I ask, running a hand through my hair.

She nods, and I turn to bend down and kiss the top of Jake’s head.

“Be good for Kelsey, bud.” I shift my attention to the babysitter and add, “I don’t know when we’ll be back, but it shouldn’t be too late.”

Kelsey waves. “Have a fun double date!”

We head out to the car—we’re only taking one, since we’re going to the same place—and I go to the passenger side first and open the door for Violet.

She raises her eyebrows at me, a grin tugging at her red lips. “Wow, you really are a gentleman. I’m not even your actual date.”

I know. Dammit, I know .

Shoving down the frustration that rises with that thought, I hold the door for her as she slides into the car.

After getting in behind the wheel, I start the car and turn the radio on. I set the volume low just to have some background noise—and to give myself something to focus on that isn’t Violet. As the GPS directs me to the restaurant we’ve chosen for tonight, I tap my thumbs restlessly against the wheel.

Violet chuckles softly, and I glance over at her.

“What?” I ask.

“You’re nervous.”

“No, I’m not.”

She arches a brow. “You sure about that?” Then her expression softens, and she reaches over to squeeze my forearm. “I get the feeling, but you have nothing to worry about, Sawyer. You’re a fucking catch, I’m sure your date will love you.”

“Thanks,” I say stiffly, shifting my focus back to the road.

The high-end Italian restaurant we made reservations at, Stella Alpina, is busy as hell when we get there. I hand my keys to the valet outside, and then rest my hand gently on the small of Violet’s back as we make our way through the small crowd of people waiting to be seated.

I give the host our name, and he nods as he checks our reservation.

“Perfect. Some of your party has already been seated. Please, follow me,” he says, then leads us to a table in the back corner of the restaurant.

Our dates, Mia and Ethan, are already seated next to each other, chatting quietly.

Ethan, who looks like he’s in his late twenties, catches sight of Violet right away and stops mid-sentence to stare at her. I can’t say I blame him, but I also can’t say I like the way he’s basically undressing her with his eyes. After a small beat, he shakes his head slightly and jumps up out of his seat, straightening his tie and rushing over to Violet.

“Violet? It’s nice to meet you. I’m Ethan,” he says, hurrying to pull a chair out for her.

“It’s nice to meet you too,” she says, smiling at him as she sits.

“Hi, Sawyer,” Mia greets me, pulling my focus away from Ethan and Violet. She’s a petite woman with curly brown hair and a nice smile—although it can’t come close to competing with Violet’s.

“Hi,” I say, more gruffly than I meant to. “Have you been waiting long?”

“No, only a few minutes. Ethan got here first, so we were just chatting a bit about how unusual this whole thing is,” she says with a little laugh as I take my seat across from her.

“Yeah, I can’t say I’ve ever been on a double date as a first date before,” Ethan comments.

“Well, thank you both for agreeing to it,” Violet says brightly. “Sawyer and I have both been off the market for a while, so I figured this would take the pressure off all of us a bit.”

“I love it!” Mia beams, glancing from Violet to me.

The waiter comes by to take our drink orders, and we all make conversation as we wait for him to come back with them. Mia definitely has first date energy, her smile unwavering as she keeps the conversation flowing smoothly, asking the usual ‘get to know you’ kind of questions. But I keep finding myself two steps behind whatever we’re talking about, because I can’t stop glancing over at Violet and Ethan.

Our waiter returns with the drinks and takes our food order, and I pick the first thing I see on the menu—chicken parmesan. Ethan orders the woodfired pizza, and Mia and Violet both get pasta.

“Wonderful.” Our waiter smiles politely. “I’ll bring those out for you soon.”

He disappears back into the kitchen, and I reach for the beer I ordered, taking a long sip. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Ethan reaching across the table to rest his hand on Violet’s, and I lurch slightly in my seat like my body’s fighting itself not to interrupt them. Not to rip his hand off hers and snap his wrist for even daring to touch her.

Fucking hell. It’s like he’s trying to get his ass kicked.

It’s suddenly hot as hell in the restaurant, and my suit feels like it’s suffocating me. Mia is beautiful and seems nice, as nice as any guy could hope to meet—but I’d honestly rather be in a laundry room full of my teammates’ sweaty hockey gear right now than keep sitting here watching Ethan flirt with Violet and pretending that Mia has any hope of seeing me again.

Ethan’s thumb drags across Violet’s knuckles, back and forth, over and over, and it makes my blood boil. But what’s worse is that she’s laughing at his jokes and nodding along as he speaks, as if she’s actually enjoying talking to him, although I don’t see how that’s possible. All his lines are corny and overdone, and there’s no substance to the guy. He’s all for show.

This was a terrible idea. Truly fucking terrible. What was I thinking agreeing to this?

“So, Sawyer, what got you into playing hockey?” Mia asks, brushing her dark hair over her shoulder. “I’m assuming you started pretty young?”

“Yeah, I did,” I admit, trying to force my mind back into focus. “When I was a little kid, I was positive I was going to be a fireman. I stuck with that for a while, but when I was about eight, I picked up my first hockey stick, and it was like lightning just hit, you know?”

“That’s amazing.” She smiles warmly at me. “I guess when you know, you just know.”

Her words hit me in a way I don’t think she intended for them to, and I nod and clear my throat. “Yeah. You do.”

Mia and I discuss our upbringings a bit—she grew up on the west coast, a far cry from my east coast upbringing—and then she asks everyone at the table for their favorite movie. As we’re in the middle of discussing that, our food arrives.

I breathe a silent sigh of relief as the waiter deposits the steaming plates of food on our table. Thank fuck .

The sooner we finish eating, the sooner we can get out of here. And having something to eat will put the awkward conversation on pause—and hopefully keep Ethan’s hands off Violet.

“Your carbonara looks nice. Perfectly cooked,” I tell Mia, doing my best to keep myself from fixating on my irrational irritation toward Violet’s date.

“Honestly, now that I’m seeing your chicken parm, I regret not ordering that too,” she says, laughing as she spears a bit of pasta. “It looks delicious.”

“You’re welcome to try a bite if you’d like,” I say, pushing my plate a bit closer to her.

“Want to try a bite of mine?” Ethan offers a second later, cutting off a bit of his pizza with a knife and offering it to Violet on his fork.

“Oh!” She blinks in surprise, then nods. “Uh, sure, thanks.”

She leans across the table to accept the bite, and when she closes her eyes and makes a soft noise of appreciation, it evokes a visceral reaction in me. I grit my teeth, swallowing hard as my stomach twists itself into a tight knot. Even though I know she’s probably just being polite and enjoying the food, I hate that she made that sound for him .

Ethan catches me staring and points to the pizza he ordered. “You want to try a bite too, Sawyer?”

“No. Thanks,” I say stiffly, and he smiles and shrugs.

“You’re missing out, but more for us.” He stabs another small piece of the pizza to offer to Violet. She accepts it, although at least this time she reaches across the table to take the fork from him instead of letting him feed it to her.

Fuck. Maybe she really does like this guy.

I almost can’t believe it, because he doesn’t at all seem like the type of man she would go for—but then again, despite our late-night talks and the fact that we’ve been living together for weeks now, it’s not like I know everything about her.

The chicken parmesan is well cooked, but I’m barely aware of the taste as I eat robotically, speaking when prompted and doing my best to keep my expression neutral.

When the meal wraps up and the waiter comes by with a dessert menu, everyone shakes their heads, declaring that they’re too full from dinner. With the end of the date in sight, my tense shoulders finally start to relax—until Ethan looks across the table at Violet, raising his eyebrows slightly.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m not quite ready for this night to end,” he tells her, a hopeful note in his voice. “Would you like to come back to my place for coffee or something?”

My jaw tightens so much that I’m afraid my teeth might crack as I wait for Violet’s response.

Her jaw drops a bit, as if she wasn’t expecting that, and she bites her lip. “Well, I do like coffee. It’s a little late though, so let me think about it.”

Ethan nods, and Mia launches into a funny story about a time when she accidentally overcaffeinated herself late in the day. I signal for the check, telling the waiter to put it all on my card as I hand it to him.

I feel like there’s a rock on my chest, crushing my fucking lungs and making it impossible to breathe, and when Violet excuses herself a moment later, saying she needs to go to the restroom, I watch her go, gripping the edge of the table to steady myself.

It’s none of your business, Townsend , I tell myself, willing myself to believe that.

But I don’t.

It is my fucking business. Because she shouldn’t be going home with anyone but me.

“Excuse me,” I say suddenly, rising to my feet. “I need to use the restroom too.”

Without waiting for a response from either Ethan or Mia, I head toward the back of the restaurant, following after Violet.