39. Leah

CHAPTER 39

LEAH

Waking up in Sawyer's bed, with his arms wrapped around me, knowing that last night actually happened—the sex and the full vulnerability of telling him I loved him—feels like all of my dreams have finally come true.

"Mornin' Dove," he rasps, kissing the top of my head as I lie next to him, tracing the tattoos on his chest. Our naked bodies mold to each other like missing puzzle pieces and I haven't even the smallest desire to move from this position today.

"Good morning." I smile up at him and he immediately pulls me in for a kiss.

"How are you feeling this morning? Are you sore?" I noticed the ache between my legs before I even moved this morning, but it's an ache that I welcome and quite honestly, crave more of.

"Yes." His brows knit together in concern. "But it just makes me want you even more." His tongue swipes across his bottom lip, then a look of panic flashes through his eyes.

"Shit, what time is it?" He shoots up to look at the clock. "You're going to be late!" He stops when he sees me smiling at him instead of throwing myself into a panic to match his.

"I'm not going to work today." I shrug.

"You're not?" He raises a brow at me.

"I may have texted last night to let them know I would be taking today off." He smiles at me in a way that sends my heart fluttering.

"And when did you do that, exactly? Because if I remember correctly, you were pretty occupied most of the night." He wraps his arms around my waist and buries his face in my neck, causing goosebumps to immediately cover my skin.

"I did it on the way here," I giggle. He rears back and looks at me. No playful remarks made about me calling into work because I was getting laid the night before. He just—looks at me.

In one swift motion, he pulls me onto his lap and begins planting kisses all along my neck as my fingers tangle in his hair. One small rotation of my hips and he would slide into me with ease.

"What do you want to do today, Dove?" He rubs his hands along my back lazily, and I would be fine with doing this all day.

"Well, if I don't have coffee in the next ten minutes, you're not going to like me very much."

"Coffee, got it. Let's go." He reaches up and kisses me before pulling me up and planting my feet on the ground. He pulls on a pair of black sweatpants and runs his fingers through his hair before putting his old Yankees cap on backwards. Then hands me his Badgers hoodie.

"There are hair ties and some clips as well as a new toothbrush in the bathroom drawer." I raise a brow at him as I slide the hoodie over my head—that fits me like a dress.

"You know, I thought the curl specific shampoo and conditioner were a coincidence but…" I trail off, hoping he'll inform me why his bathroom is stocked with items he clearly doesn't need.

"I bought stuff for you to have here." He shrugs. My mouth pops open but no words come out for a solid ten seconds.

"Why?"

Genius question, Leah.

He smirks at me and walks over to wrap his hands around my waist.

"Because when you finally said yes to giving us a chance, I knew we would end up here one day and I wanted you to have everything you'd need."

"You're the most thoughtful person I know, Sawyer Clark." I smile up at him.

"Only for you, Dove." He kisses me once more then squeezes my ass. "You want a quick tour before breakfast?"

"Um, absolutely I do."

After wetting my hair to tame some of the frizz—because oh my god— I throw it haphazardly into a claw clip then we walk around the farmhouse style mansion Sawyer lives in.

There's about six other bedrooms not counting his, one with all his hockey memorabilia, a few that are actually guest rooms, then there's the last room that's been completely transformed into what can only be described as a mini library. There are bookshelves on every wall—some full, some with only a few books, and some still completely bare—with the most heavenly looking reading chair tucked into the corner next to the floor to ceiling windows that face the expansive backyard.

"This is probably my favorite room." I stare out the window as he walks up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist.

"Well, I should hope so, it was made for you." I turn around and see a boyish smile on his face.

"What do you mean?"

"Come on, Dove. You think I would buy claw clips and shampoo for you, but not have a room designated just for your books?"

"I— I honestly don't know what to expect from you anymore. You surprise me at every turn."

"Good," he whispers against my lips, pressing his gently to mine before standing back to his full height. "Why don't you spend some time with the books, and I know you want to try out the reading chair. Then come down when you're ready." I can't help but smile at how well he knows me, and I nod in agreement. I see every single one of Laura's books lining one of the shelves and pick up Always Mine, flipping through to read over some of my favorite scenes, until I smell coffee brewing and abandon the books to join Sawyer in the kitchen.

When I walk in, I see Sawyer spreading something onto a bagel and my stomach begins growling. I'm not sure which thing is turning me on more though, seeing Sawyer making us breakfast, or the smell of the coffee.

"Hey there, beautiful."

Hello, butterflies.

"Hey handsome." I saunter over to him and wrap my arms around his waist as he continues plating our food.

"Try this." He lifts one arm, turning in my grip and holds the mini bagel to my mouth for me to take a bite.

"Oh my god," I mumble with a mouth full. "What is that?"

"Cinnamon butter." I moan as I savor every bit of the taste.

"I loved making cinnamon butter when I was little. I never could get the ratio right though," I say after finally swallowing the bite.

"Well, problem solved. They make it for you now." He winks, pressing his lips gently to mine.

Being kissed by Sawyer will never get old.

I begin walking around the kitchen, taking in the massive space. I told myself no matter how badly I wanted to let my eyes roam around last night, that I would stay focused on us . Because the second I get distracted, there's usually no saving me.

The kitchen is the same size as my kitchen and living room combined, with an island the size of my car in the middle of it. The cabinets are a light natural wood, complemented by off-white marble countertops. The island base is painted the most gorgeous pine-green color that I can't stop staring at, and black appliances with gold hardware top it all off.

"Can you grab some creamer out of the fridge? Second shelf." Sawyer points to the refrigerator but as soon as my fingers wrap around the handle, something catches my eye and I stop to stare at the magnet hanging perfectly at eye level.

"Dove, you okay?" I feel Sawyer stop behind me—his presence sending an undeniable heat through my whole body. "You like it?" he asks, causing me to finally turn and face him.

"I completely forgot about that photo," I admit, fighting the tears that have formed in my eyes. He pulls the magnet off the fridge and lays it face up in his palm.

"I have looked at this picture of us every day since it was taken, holding out hope that one day you'd look at me like that again." I dry my eyes and look again. It's the picture Taylor took of us on Halloween night my senior year. Sawyer is wearing my angel wings and I'm in his denim jacket, staring up at him like he hung the damn moon.

"I'd been looking at you like that for years, you just never noticed." A sadness swirls in my chest as the magnet pops back onto the door.

"I hate that we never caught each other staring. Maybe life would have been a whole lot simpler if we had. But—" He pulls his hand around, with another magnet facing up. "I have to believe that where we ended up is exactly where we were meant to be all along. I just had to stop waiting for fate to bring us back together and do it my damn self." I choke out a laugh as I stare at the new photo magnet he's holding.

This one is the picture he took of us in my bed the morning after he stayed over the first night. Ten years later and I'm still looking at him the way I always have. He tilts my chin up with his forefinger.

"I love you, Dove. I always will."

"I love you too."

BANG. BANG BANG. BANG. BANG.

"Moose! Open this fucking door!"

Is that?

"Is that my sister?"

"How many other people with that pitch call you Moose?" I narrow my gaze at him, making him snap a finger gun at me.

"Right." He turns to walk towards the door when she starts yelling again.

"Your girlfriend is MISSING! Get your ass up and ANSWER THE DOOR!" she screams, causing him to turn around with a devilish smirk.

"Please go answer the door." He shoots me a pleading look, and I tilt my head at him.

"Are you serious?" He folds his hands like he's begging. "Sawyer, I'm not wearing underwear!" I whisper shout at him, as if Taylor could hear me over the crisis she's currently having on the front porch.

"I don't think that's really going to matter unless you're planning on straddling her."

"MOOSE!"

"Okay fine!" I walk over to the door and take a deep breath, shooting one final eyeroll in Sawyer direction. He looks so fucking giddy about this I have to fight to keep from smiling about it.

I swing the door open, and Taylor lets out a loud groan. "Fucking fi—" Her mouth hangs open, her words dying on her lips when she sees me.

"Hey, Tay. Everything okay?" She lets her eyes rake over me in her brother's hoodie, my hair a mess and bare from the waist down—though she can only see from a little above my knees down—and she screams.

"Oh my god, and now I'm deaf." I hold my fingers to my ears as Taylor storms through the front door. Taking in the mess of clothes right inside the threshold.

Oops. Forgot about those.

"I think I'm having a heart attack." She holds her hand to her chest and tries to take a deep breath. "Oh my god!" Her other hand flies to her eyes and I look behind me to see Sawyer with those delicious looking sweatpants slung low on his hips as he leans against the wall with amusement on his face.

"This is my house, Tot. You're just lucky we're as dressed as we are." I shoot daggers at him, but he winks at me and suddenly I wish we weren't as dressed as we are.

"Did you need something?" I turn to face her, and both of her hands fall to her hips.

"Um, yes! I need to know why my best friend's phone is going straight to voicemail, why her car was still in her driveway well after eight o'clock on a Friday morning when she's never taken a day off work unless she was dying , and why my tree of a brother didn't answer any of my 911 texts about it." She looks between the two of us and when I meet Sawyer's eye again, he's looking at me like he's replaying last night, and I can't help the blush that washes over my cheeks.

"I uh, took the day off work, Uber'd to the game last night, left with Sawyer, then I stayed here last night which is why my car is at home, and I honestly don't know where my phone is." I glance around and see it sitting on the floor next to my dress. Likely dead as a doornail.

"And what's your excuse?" She stares past me at Sawyer.

"My phone is on do not disturb."

"Why?!" The room is silent for a moment before Sawyer speaks again—but not before he walks over to wrap his arms around me.

"Because I wasn't to be disturbed last night. Isn't that right, Dove?"

"I am feeling so many things right now I can't even begin to land on one emotion," Taylor says almost robotically.

"Try," I encourage as she looks between the two of us. Then she narrows her gaze on me.

"Yay for the invasion of Fort Knox!" She claps excitedly, quickly followed by her finger being shoved in my face. "Don't you ever let your phone die again, I thought you were getting crazy murdered somewhere." Then she pulls me into a giant bear hug. Going through the five stages of grief in a very shuffled way at lightning speed is kind of Taylor's specialty.

"Since you're alive and well, I expect to see both of you tomorrow night on Broadway. If you can manage to get dressed and out of the house long enough to grace us with your presence." She shimmies her shoulders and winks at me, then stares blankly at Sawyer before closing her eyes.

"Random hockey player, he's just a random hockey player," Taylor chants as she shakes her head and walks back out the front door, leaving Sawyer and I staring after her.

"I don't know why the things she does still surprises me after all these years," he says after we hear the engine to her car start and the tires begin rolling down the gravel driveway.

"Well, she wouldn't be Taylor if they didn't."