53. Sawyer

CHAPTER 53

SAWYER

I haven't spent much time at Chattahoochies since moving back. It's no doubt the coolest bar I've ever been to, with the Viking aesthetic, the old school jukebox in the corner, and the reserved table for fallen soldiers. Max really did something unique with his bar. This is the first place I've come to outside of games—that I literally have no choice but to be at—since Allen's funeral.

"You motherfucker." I turn to see Tank walking over to me with an unreadable expression. He's either about to hug me or pummel me and it's frightening that I can't tell which it is.

"Hey to you too, Tank." He strides over and sits down on a barstool next to me as Ruby places a soda in front of him. He gives her a wink then turns to face me.

"It was you, wasn't it?"

"What are you talking about?" I try not to give away that I know exactly what he's talking about, but I never did perfect my poker face. He shakes his head and lets out a small laugh.

"I don't know what I ever did to deserve having a friend like you show up in my life, but you've just made more of a change for these people than you may ever know."

"I wish I could do more, if I'm honest." Hearing Tank talk about his work and knowing the impact it makes, the real change he's trying to achieve at The Veterans Center, is admirable.

"I'd say a four-million-dollar donation is plenty, you beautiful Moose. However, if you ever get bored with figure skating with a stick, I'd be happy to put you to work." I force out a laugh that fades almost immediately and I finish off my whiskey.

"How are you doing man?" He gives my shoulder a squeeze and I plaster on my mask and nod.

"I'm alright." He studies me closely and takes a deep breath.

"I'm always here man, if you need to talk." Tank may wonder what he's done to have a friend like me in his life, but I wonder the same thing about him. He, Max, and Tucker all have been so accepting and some of the best friends I've made ever since I got here.

"Thanks man. I appreciate that."

Tot

Are you going to pull your head out of your ass and go take care of your girl or what?!?! She's hurting Sawyer, where the FUCK are you?

Me

Taylor, don't start. I'm losing my fucking mind not being with her right now. Where the fuck do you think I want to be? She made it clear she didn't want to be my girl OR see me anymore. So I'm staying away like she asked, even though it's killing me. That's where the fuck I am, Tot.

Tot

We both know she'll always be your girl. She's just hurting right now, Moose.

Me

I know she is. And knowing I'm the reason for that hurt is the ONLY reason I'm staying away. Please make sure she's okay. Okay? Can you do that for me?

Tot

I'll do my best. I promise.

I love my house. When I moved back to Tennessee, I hoped that I would be here indefinitely, so I made sure to pick a place I would want to call home when I turn old and gray. I'd be lying if I said I picked aspects of this place that I thought Leah would love too. Like the porch swing where we could watch the sunset, the huge kitchen where we could host holidays or birthday parties, and the built-in bookshelves on every wall in the room she calls her mini library.

Called her mini library.

I bought this home with every intention of sharing it with her. Some may say it was foolish, and I might even believe them now. But I knew that was how it was meant to be.

I still know it, deep down.

But I also know it's likely no longer a realistic dream. Because even though my heart still only beats for her, with every pump of life I ache. To see her, to be near her, to inhale her sweet scent and feel her soft skin on mine. To look into those calming green eyes and see that smile that lights up my entire damn life.

Things I'm beginning to accept will never happen again.

I toss the magnet down on the counter and run my hands through my hair, grabbing my shoes to take a walk.

When I reach my mailbox, I see my dad's truck pulling onto the gravel road and my brows knit together.

"Hey Pop, what are you doing here?"

"At your house or in the state?" he laughs.

"Both, I guess." I offer a small smile and he squints at me.

"Hop in, I'll give you a ride back up to the house." I open the door and place my mail on the dashboard, slamming the door behind me. "How you been, son?"

"Fine, Dad." He nods but doesn't say anything else. We ride back up to the house with nothing but the sound of gravel beneath his tires filling the truck. When we reach the circle drive, he parks the truck and cuts the engine.

"Is that so?" Here we go. "How's Leah?"

"You'd have better luck finding that out from Tot, Dad."

"She said she hasn't spoken to Leah since Al's funeral. Her phone has been off." My heart starts to race with panic. Why the fuck didn't she mention that when she text me? Has no one talked to her since the funeral?

"Maybe she's with her mom." I try to find an explanation that will end this conversation, so I don't have the inclination to go bust down her front door and check on her.

"Loretta went to the campgrounds. I doubt Leah is with her there." My heart squeezes so tight it feels like I can't breathe, because all I want to do is call and see if she's okay.

But her phone is off.

I could just go by her house and check on her.

She doesn't want to see you; she probably wouldn't even answer the door.

Or worse, she'd slam it back in your face when she saw you.

"What are you doing, Sawyer?" Dad's voice breaks me out of my thoughts.

"Sorry, zoned out I guess." He snickers at that.

"With Leah. Why are you sitting on your ass when your girl is hurting?"

"She doesn't want to see me, Dad." I clench my jaw to keep from snapping at him. It's not his fault no one really knows what happened between us.

"I doubt that's true," he says calmly, staring out the window at the house.

"Well, it is. She blames me. For not being here when it happened. For missing so many Sunday dinners because we were together," my voice shakes. "She hates me, Dad, and honestly, I can't even blame her. I consumed so much of her time, and I didn't think twice about it."

"When did she tell you this?" His face is pulled into a frown, and I can't remember a time I ever saw my father look pained on my behalf.

"When we got back from the airport. I took her to her moms, and she said she couldn't look at me without remembering why she wasn't here with him. You asked how I am? I'm fucking miserable Dad. That's how I am. All I want to do is be with her, but I'm the reason she's hurting so damn bad, so what good would it do?" He sits back in his seat and is quiet a minute before he speaks again.

"Grief has a really ugly way of throwing people into the darkness. It eats you up and causes you to lash out. That's why the first two stages are denial and anger. Do you love her, Sawyer?" I look at him in surprise. I thought it was painfully obvious to everyone how much I love her.

"More than anything."

"Even after she said what she did, you still love her?" I know this is leading somewhere, but the insinuation that I would ever stop loving her still angers me.

"I would love her even if she lived her life loving someone else. She's it for me, Dad. She's always been it for me." I try to swallow past the lump in my throat, fighting the pain that lives permanently in my chest at the thought of her.

"Then go get your girl, son. Because the fourth stage isn't one she needs to go through alone and I have a feeling she might be in it. She may have given up, Sawyer—she's allowed to feel hopeless after what's happened—but you're not. So go get her."

"I will, Dad." I shake my head and he pulls me into a hug. I hold onto him for dear life, knowing that what I'm doing right now isn't something to be taken for granted.

"Don't forget this." Dad hands me my mail as I'm stepping out of the truck, and when I look down, my stomach hits the ground.

A letter from Allen? Why would he send me a letter?

Once my dad is gone, I sit on the front porch steps, staring at the envelope for what feels like forever before I finally get the guts to open it. When I do, I see another envelope enclosed—addressed to Leah. I set it to the side and unfold the paper that is addressed to me.

Sawyer,

You told me recently that you have plans to marry my daughter someday. In the event I am not here to tell her myself, I have written her a letter that I want her to read when you finally do pop the question. With the way you two look at each other, I feel confident I'll be able to tell her all of these things myself because I don't see you waiting much longer to put a ring on her finger, but just in case, I am leaving it in your care—just as I am leaving her. Take care of my baby girl, Clark. She is the single best thing to ever happen to me and Loretta, she shines brightest when she's loved, as most women do, and I've never quite seen her shine the way she does when she's with you. It's not lost on me why you call her Dove, and I don't think there's anything more fitting you could have chosen to call her, but did you know that doves have an unnatural ability to find their way back home? No matter how far they get, they find their way back. I think that's what happened with the two of you. She found her way back to the person who felt like home.

Alright, that's enough of the mushy shit for me. Give my girl her letter when there's a ring on her finger.

Allen.

P.s. - I'm not getting any younger here.

Tears are streaming down my face so fast I'm sure I'll have stains on the paper I am holding, but I can't hold it in anymore.

I miss my girl.

I hate that I've been sitting around here instead of being there for her—taking care of her, helping her through her grief.

As if the universe sent both of our dads to kick me in the ass, I dart into the house, tuck the letter from Al safely into my mail slot, then grab my keys before sprinting to my truck. My eyes are still misty from my tears, that I don't even notice another vehicle in my driveway until I hear a door slam just as I open mine.

"Hey thirteen." A cold chill shoots down my spine and my head snaps up. I'm sure I'm hallucinating when I see Leah standing next to her dad's old Chevy in my Badger's hoodie and a pair of white sneakers. Hallucination or not, I waste no time running to her. The way I should have run to her weeks ago. I wrap my arms around her small frame and lift her off the ground, feeling her entire body relax when I do. "Sawyer." Her voice shakes against my neck and my arms squeeze her even tighter.

"Hey Dove."

"I'm sorry for just showing up here. If you were going somewhere I can–" Her voice is tight as I reluctantly place her feet back on the ground.

"I was headed to you , baby." Her eyes water and her lip begins to quiver.

"You were?" I nod my head as tears begin to fall down her cheeks. "I need you, Sawyer." A sob rips through her, shaking her entire body and she falls into my chest.

"I'm right here baby, I've got you." I kiss the top of her head, letting my own tears fall into her hair.

"I'm so s-sorry," she chokes out.

My heart is aching, but in a good way?

She came back to me.

"Welcome home, Dove." She looks up at me with those mesmerizing green eyes so full of pain. Pain that I couldn't even begin to understand but will do everything I can to ease.

"Can I take care of you, baby, the way I should have been doing all along?" I cup her face in my hands and the faintest smile appears on her lips as she nods.

"Yes, please."

I scoop her up and carry her inside, taking her all the way to my bathroom before I set her down on the counter. Her face is still expressionless, much like it was on the plane ride home a month ago, but she's here . For that, I'm grateful.

Sliding the shower door open I turn the water on and kick my shoes off before returning to her. I start by bending to untie her shoes, placing them gently to the side and tucking her socks into them.

"Arms up." I stand back up and wrap my hands around the hem of the black hoodie. Her eyes meet mine, shimmering with the slightest bit of life as she reaches her arms up over her head. I pull it off and am met with the view of her perfect breasts, completely free of any restraint, and a pair of boyshort style underwear. My jaw clenches as I try to control the blood rushing to the one place I need it not to right now.

I offer her my hand to help her down from the counter and she accepts. When her feet are on the ground I bend to my knees once more, pulling her underwear down her legs and kissing her stomach before standing back up. She watches me closely as I pull my shirt over my head, tossing it to the side before unhooking my belt and sliding my jeans off.

When I take her hand and walk her into the shower, she lets her eyes fall shut as the warm water beats down on her back, soaking her untamed curls. She looks like she's lost weight and from the looks of her hair when she showed up, I'm not sure when she last showered.

I should have been there. Or at the very least made sure someone else was.

The same pain from before hits me in the chest, but I push it away and try to focus on the fact that she's here now.

I grab her shampoo and lather it in her hair, the sigh she releases makes some of the tension in my shoulders disappear as I rinse it out and do it again—knowing she needs a little more maintenance right now than usual.

Then I do the same with the conditioner before grabbing the body wash from her shelf. I squeeze a generous amount in my hands and start with her shoulders, watching as the wash lathers into thick suds as I rub it along her back, wishing I could kiss every inch of her and tell her how sorry I am and how much I love her.

I wash her entire back all the way to her ankles and when she turns around, I'm unsure if she would rather do this herself or if she's okay with me doing it. Then she reaches for my hand and places it on her chest, and I have to take a deep breath to ground myself. My cock is hard as iron and aching for her touch, but I'm praying she somehow doesn't notice. My heart races at painful speeds as I wash her breasts, stomach, between her legs and down to her feet. I turn her around to allow her to sit on the built-in bench, dropping to my knees to take her feet in my hands, massaging each one thoroughly.

"Sawyer."

"Yes, Dove?"

"Why do you still have your boxers on?"

Ah, fuck.

"Because I wanted to take care of you, I didn't want you thinking I had any other intentions."

She frowns. "You want to take care of me?"

"Of course I do." My brows pinch together as I place her feet on the shower floor, rubbing my hands up and down her calves.

"Then lose the boxers." My expression morphs into surprise at her request. I was worried she wouldn't even want me touching her right now, so I definitely didn't expect this . "Please, Sawyer. I've done nothing but hurt for weeks . I have hated myself for walking away from you and making you think I didn't want you just because my heart was broken, but I couldn't pull myself out of the fog long enough to tell you as much until today. I just… I need you Sawyer. I need all of you because I love you, and I need to know that you still love me too." The pain in her voice breaks me.

"Nothing in this world could keep me from loving you, baby."

I spread her legs, allowing the needed space for me to move closer, cupping her face and pressing my lips to hers. Her mouth opens and I dip my tongue inside, tasting the saltiness of her tears and I don't waste another second making her question how deep my love for her is. I break our kiss to stand and slide my boxers off, kicking them to the side before pulling her up. I pick her up, wrapping her legs around my waist and pressing her back gently against the tiles on the wall as I kiss her in a way that surely proves my love for her.

Then she reaches down and wraps her hand around my length, my heart skipping a beat as she lines me up to her entrance. She sucks in a breath, and I quickly realize she's holding it in. It's been a while since we've been together, so I have no doubt she'll have to take some time to adjust.

"Breathe for me, Dove." She exhales and I bury my face in her neck, kissing, biting, licking, as I slowly slide into her. Her nipples harden and press against my chest while I kiss the sensitive spot behind her ear.

"Almost there baby, let me in," I whisper as she relaxes and drops her hips, taking the rest of me so beautifully. I thrust into her, slow but firm, as sounds of pure satisfaction vibrate through my chest.

I lean back and look at her, seeing the tears spilling over her eyes and stop.

"What's wrong? Are you hurt?" I begin to pull out, but she tightens her grip on me to stop me.

"I just missed you so much, please don't stop," she cries, with a smile on her face. "Fuck me like you love me." Holding her up with one arm behind her back, I grab her face gently with the other as I begin again.

"I love you, Leah. I have always loved you. I am yours, baby. Only. Always. Forever." I wrap both of my arms around her, holding her body close to mine as I pound into her, our lips dancing with one another the way they always do.

We stay this way until our lips are tingling, our bodies spent, and the very last wave of our climax has subsided.