2. Leah

CHAPTER 2

LEAH

Taylor and Tucker's new house is absolutely stunning. It's not massive, per se, but the open floor plan makes it feel immensely spacious. Which might just come in handy since I have a feeling I am going to be finding strategic ways to avoid the man of the hour for the better part of the evening. There are balloons everywhere and enough food platters to feed an army—or by the looks of it, Tank, Tucker, and Max. Seriously, if someone doesn't remove them from the kitchen there will be no food left for anyone else.

"Do your wives not feed you?" I slap my hands on the top of the oversized kitchen island. Tank is bouncing Poe on his chest in a baby carrier, and all three of them look over at me, then back down at the almost empty platter.

"Taylor wouldn't let me in the kitchen today while she cleaned the house. I'm starving," Tucker says over a mouth full of food before snatching another crescent wrapped sausage from the tray.

"You look like starved shelter dogs. For the love of God, pace yourselves, gentlemen. This event just started, the person it's for isn't even here yet, and other people are hungry too," I playfully scold them, grabbing the last pig in a blanket with a smirk on my face.

"Yes, Mom," Tank groans, making me roll my eyes.

"She keeping everyone in line in here?" The familiar sound of Sawyer's smooth voice washes over me, causing a pit to form in my stomach. I suddenly wish I was as invisible as he's made me feel over the last ten years.

My heart is hammering against my chest, my feet unwilling to turn around and face the man standing behind me as my eyes bounce between the guys. Tank, Tucker, and Max all shoot anticipating glances my way, but when I subtly shake my head Tank picks up on it and wipes his hand on his blue jeans before extending it to Sawyer.

"Hey man, I'm Tank. I think I was dangerously drunk the last time we met." Leave it to Tank to break the tension just by being Tank. Sawyer laughs and reaches across the island to shake his hand.

"Right. Taylor's birthday party. No, I remember. Good to see you again." The warm scent of cedar surrounds me as he nearly brushes against my arm, making the breaths I'm already struggling to catch that much harder to take. Then I feel Sawyer's gaze land on me.

"Yeah, I was insinuating that I didn't," Tank mumbles to himself and I have to roll my lips together to keep from laughing.

I finally take a deep breath and turn to face Sawyer, doing my best to show my indifference towards him. To prove how unaffected I am by the way he took our once cherished friendship and drove it straight into the ground. But when I catch those deep, sapphire eyes already on me when I turn around, my plan flies out the damn window.

"Hey, Dove." His smile acts like a dagger to my heart, but I can't ignore the warmth from the wound spreading through me at the same time. My throat bobs as I swallow past the emotions threatening to choke me up.

"Hey, Moose."

More like, hey asshole.

It's like my mind factory reset and I was transported back to high school. The sense of longing for him that I've actively shoved down for the better part of ten years comes crawling back up to the surface.

Not today, hormones. Get it together.

He chuckles when he hears the name and slides his hands into the front pockets of his dark gray slacks. He's paired them with a dusty-blue dress shirt that's tucked in, the top two buttons are undone, and his sleeves are rolled up just past his forearms. His long brown hair looks as though he just stepped out of the shower and ran his fingers through it, the curls tousled in a perfectly messy way.

Freaking kill me. He looks delicious.

"You look great." His gaze slowly glides over my body causing my cheeks to warm instantly. I have on a simple white turtleneck paired with a navy-blue overall dress, my hair is thrown up into a messy bun with a few stray hairs framing my face and my favorite pair of gray booties.

"Thank you." I tip my chin up confidently, refusing to give in and tell him how great he looks too. He turns to face me head on, making my breath catch in my throat when he does.

"Could we go somewhere to talk? I'd really like to catch up." Ugh, is he serious? I can feel my nostrils flare as I draw in a breath— acting as if I'm contemplating my answer— then I quickly respond.

"Hmm. No." His jaw flexes the way it always does when he's frustrated, and I feel the corner of my lips turn up in a smirk.

"Come on, Dove. I–" Before he can finish whatever he was about to say, Taylor enters the room, and magnetically draws all attention to her.

Thank God.

"Pizzas are here!" she announces, placing the boxes on the opposite end of the island.

"Fucking finally," Tucker sighs, walking her way.

"Little ears." Tank covers Poe's ears while he scolds Tucker. As if Poe could actually repeat anything he hears at this age.

I snatch my phone off the counter, hurry to the spare bathroom and lock the door behind me before resting my head on the door and letting out a shaky breath.

"Shit," I whisper to myself, fighting back the sadness I feel washing over me. The last time I saw Sawyer—on good terms—was my senior year of high school. He was one of my best friends, and regardless of the secret crush I harbored for him all throughout high school, I never let it get in the way of our friendship. I knew liking your best friend's older brother was a big fat to-don't, but once he and I actually formed a friendship of our own, I was scared of losing more than just my friendship with Taylor—I was scared of losing him as well.

Jokes on me though because in the end, I lost him anyway.

Man, I wish Tucker had built a secret escape door in this bathroom. Because I would really love to disappear right now.

I jump at the sudden buzzing of my phone in my hand but when I look down and see Jackson's name flash across the screen, I can't help but smile and welcome the distraction.

"Hello?" I bring the phone up to my ear, tucking my other hand in the crook of my elbow.

"Hey there. Is this a good time?" You have no idea.

"It's a great time, what's up?" I find myself fidgeting with the decorative towels hanging on the rack to give myself something to do in the small space since I can't pace like I normally do while on the phone.

"So listen, my sister just told me about a margarita tasting event at Casa Taco next Thursday, and it made me think of you." He's silent for a moment as I chew on my bottom lip.

Aww. He thought of me .

"If it's not somewhere you think would be good for our first date… Second date? Second first date? Then I will plan something else. Otherwise. How about I pick you up at seven?" I hesitate for a moment before looking up in the mirror, remembering the encouraging words— somewhat depressing, but encouraging nonetheless—that my friends gave me about giving this another shot. I have to put myself out there and move on from the fantasy that has lived, unwelcomed, in my mind for so long that it's kept me from giving anyone a real chance.

"I love Casa Taco. That sounds like a perfect second first date."

"Okay then. I'll pick you up at seven next Thursday." I can almost hear his smile through the phone.

"I can't wait. Bye!" I hang up the phone and take a cleansing breath, smiling as I lock my phone and turn to unlock the door. Maybe things are looking up afterall. As soon as the door swings open, I suck in a startled breath.

"Found you, Dove." Sawyer is leaning against the door frame, completely blocking the exit with his burly frame.

There's a reason we call him Moose. The man is massive.

Six-foot-four with muscles that look hand carved… Not that I care.

"Jesus Christ, Sawyer. You almost gave me a heart attack." My hand flies to my chest as I try to catch my breath. "You know they have like two other bathrooms, right?"

"But you were in this one. And I was looking for you." He smirks and I cross my arms over my chest, hating the way my stomach still flips at the sight of him.

"Why?" I clip, making it clear I'm not interested in talking to him.

"Look, I know you're mad at me, but I still wanted to give you this." He pulls a ticket from his back pocket. "My first game is next Thursday, and I want you there." I take the ticket and glance down at it then back up at him.

"Sorry, I have plans that night." He scowls at me, and his eyes drop to the ticket.

"With who? Everyone else said they were coming." He nods toward the area of the house where literally all of my friends are.

"Why does it matter?" His jaw flexes again, making it harder to pull my eyes away from his strikingly handsome features.

"Is it a date?" His eyes narrow on me and I rear back, shocked by the insinuation. The tone of his voice takes me by surprise because I would almost think he sounded jealous if I didn't know any better. But I know better, and there's no chance in hell that's what I'm hearing.

"Welcome back, Sawyer. Good luck at your game." I slide the ticket in his shirt pocket, tapping it twice before I push past him, only stopping when he catches my arm in his hand.

He pulls me back and a small gasp escapes my lips as I look down where he has me in his grasp and then back up at him. Something flashes in his eyes before he quickly blinks it away, so I wait a beat for him to say something, but when he doesn't I pull away and rejoin our friends in the living room.

I refuse to be the one who gets walked away from—again.