22. Violet

Chapter 22

Violet

I make my way through the dark hallway toward the bathroom, brushing my hands lightly over my dress. There are several doors spaced out near the end of the hall, each labeled as single occupancy, and I lean against the wall to wait when I realize they’re all occupied.

“Violet!”

Sawyer’s low, urgent voice makes me startle, and I glance up to see him striding toward me. I open my mouth to ask what’s up, but before I can speak, the door to the bathroom opens and the person inside leaves. Sawyer wraps one of his large, callused hands around my wrist, tugging me into the small, empty room and shutting the door behind us.

He turns to me, an intense, agitated look on his face, and I stare at him in shock.

“What’s going on?” I ask. “Are you okay?”

He takes a step toward me, never once looking away. It’s as if he’s trying to peer into my soul through my eyes.

“Are you gonna go home with him, heartbreaker?” he demands, his voice low and rough. “With Ethan?”

My heart lurches at the look on his face and the realization that there’s barely more than a foot separating us in this tiny bathroom. I lick my lips, swallowing hard as I tilt my chin up to meet Sawyer’s gaze.

“Isn’t that what we’re here for? Why we both came out on these dates tonight?” I ask, my heart thudding hard against my ribs. “To get back on the horse? To get back out there?”

A muscle in Sawyer’s jaw works, and he makes a motion like he’s going to reach for my wrist again but then drops his hands to his sides.

“Yes,” he says quietly. “But not with him, Violet. He’s not good enough for you.”

“You don’t even know him,” I whisper, even though the bathroom is so far away from the main part of the restaurant that I’m certain no one can hear us. “How can you be so sure about that?”

“Because no one is. No one is good enough for you. You’re… special.”

The vehemence in his voice, the certainty in his tone, sets off a wave of butterflies in my stomach, and I stand stock still, staring up at him in the dim light of the bathroom. Seconds tick by, measured by the frantic pounding of my heart, and then Sawyer swallows, taking one more step toward me until our bodies are nearly touching.

“I know you’re a grown woman and you can do whatever you want,” he says in a low voice. “But please, don’t do this. Not with him.” He reaches up, his large hand gently cradling my chin as he stares down at me with something like desperation on his face. “ Please. ”

I draw in a shaky breath, and even that small motion is enough to make my chest brush against his, just for a second. He stiffens but doesn’t release his grip on my chin, as if he physically can’t move until he hears an answer from me.

“Okay,” I whisper, my voice breathy. “I won’t.”

Sawyer’s shoulders slump, and his hand falls away from my face as he takes a step back. There’s a loaded moment as we gaze at each other in the tiny bathroom, and questions I don’t quite know how to articulate tumble around in my head. I want to ask him why he cares, and why he cares this much . Why he followed me all the way to the restroom just to tell me—no, beg me—not to go home with Ethan.

But before I can untangle my tongue or work up the courage to voice any of that, Sawyer dips his head in a small nod.

“Good,” he says.

Then he turns and strides out of the bathroom, leaving me staring after him as the door swings closed. I take a step backward, slumping against the countertop by the little sink when my ass bumps up against it.

Holy shit. What was that?

It takes me several long moments to rouse myself out of the stunned daze I’m in, but I finally shake my head to clear it and then lock the door so I can do my business. I wash my hands, then splash a bit of water on my face, trying to tame the heat that’s still infusing my cheeks. When I’m relatively certain that I look normal and composed, I slip out of the bathroom and return to the table.

Sawyer is just signing the check when I sit down beside him, and Ethan glances at me expectantly.

“I’m sorry,” I tell him. “Thank you for the invitation, it’s very sweet of you. But I think I’m going to just head home. I’ve got to be up early in the morning for work.”

Disappointment flashes across Ethan’s face, but he musters up a smile. “No problem. I understand. Maybe another time.”

The four of us get up to leave, walking out together. I’m vaguely aware of Sawyer saying goodnight to Mia as I do the same with Ethan, and then the two of them split off, and Sawyer hands the valet the ticket for his car.

He holds the door for me just like he did on the way here, but he doesn’t look at me as I slide into the passenger seat. He crosses around the front of the car and gets in, pulling away from the curb as the radio plays quietly in the car.

I sit with my hands folded on my lap, alternating between watching the road ahead of us and glancing out the side window, watching the streetlights pass by. Sawyer doesn’t say a word, and the silence that fills his car is so thick and heavy that I almost feel like I could reach out and touch it.

Usually, I’m the type of person to fill a moment of quiet, to speak up and say something. It’s part of the reason I seemed to keep putting my foot in my mouth after I moved in with Sawyer—I usually speak more when I’m nervous, not less, which can lead to accidentally blurting embarrassing things. But as Sawyer drives us home in silence, I don’t say anything either.

When we pull into the garage at his house, he glances over at me for the first time since we left the restaurant. He hesitates, his nostrils flaring as his intense gray eyes meet mine, then gets out of the car and opens my door for me.

We head inside, and I stand there somewhat awkwardly as he pays Kelsey, who gives him a quick report on how the evening went before slipping out the front door.

As soon as she’s gone, the loaded tension between us comes rushing back in, and my pulse kicks up a notch. I’m not quite sure what to say, or what he’s thinking, so I just follow him quietly up the stairs.

When we reach the top landing, I stop, biting my lip.

“I was never going to go home with Ethan, you know,” I admit softly. “Even before you asked me not to. I didn’t want him.”

Sawyer’s gaze flicks to me, something burning in his eyes. He nods, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and for just a second, I think he might reach for me. In that split second, I imagine what it would feel like to have him press me against the wall and kiss me, to pour gasoline on the smoldering attraction that I’ve tried over and over to douse.

But when he doesn’t, I give him a small smile and turn toward my room, opening the door and slipping inside.

I lean my back against it for a moment, closing my eyes and tipping my head back. Disappointment expands inside my chest, and I squeeze my eyes shut tighter. That’s it. It’s done. I can’t deny that I’m desperately attracted to Sawyer, and I have to believe that I haven’t completely misread the vibes I’ve gotten from him. But if anything were ever going to happen between us, it would’ve been tonight.

And it didn’t. So I need to let it go.

Forcing my eyes back open, I press away from the door and set my purse on the bed before unzipping my dress, trying to ignore the tight lump in my stomach.

It’s probably for the best anyway , I tell myself as I unclasp my bra and toss it into the hamper along with my dress. I dig out my favorite sleep shirt and tug it on, relishing in the comforting feel of the soft, worn fabric against my skin. I grab my purse from the bed and set it on the dresser, digging my phone out so that I can plug it in to charge overnight.

But just as I’m about to crawl beneath the covers, a notification pops up on my phone, accompanied by a small pinging sound. I frown, realizing it’s an alert from the dating app.

I swipe to read the message, then almost drop my phone as my eyes go wide.

Sawyer T. just liked you! Match now to get the conversation going.