With a deep breath, I take out my phone and text Sawyer one more time.
TABITHA:Hey. I’m in town and I’d love to see you. Thinking I’d drop by around noon?
I tell my mom goodbye and get on the road, because whether he answers or not, I’m knocking on Sawyer’s door. But a big wave of relief washes over me when he texts back twenty minutes later.
SAWYER:I’ll be here.
It’s not “I love you and I can’t wait to see you.” But it’s also not “No.”
I’ll take it.
Chapter 29
IstepintoSawyer’sclearing and pause, taking a calming breath. I planned what I would say on the whole drive over, but while I don’t need big words, these are big thoughts and big feelings, and I’m not good at articulating those. The only other time I’ve tried, the guy dumped me the next morning.
The guy I’m about to say this all to again.
Am I crazy?
I half turn to leave and possibly burrow in Natalie’s cabin, but I remember sitting on Jane’s couch and saying, “Being in love feels like Sawyer.”
I take one more deep breath and step into the clearing, working on controlling my breathing as I make my way around to Sawyer’s front door.
He answers within seconds of my knock.
“Hey,” he says, a smile I can’t read on his face. It’s not shy. It’s also not natural. He’s smiling like I’m a project manager he doesn’t get along with.
“Hey. Thanks for letting me drop by.”
“Sure.” We stand there for a few seconds before he steps back. “You, uh, want to come in?”
“Sure.” Kill me now. This awkwardness…I hate it.
He leads me to the living room. He waits until I sit on the sofa before taking an armchair. The armchair is opposite me, a rough-hewn wooden coffee table between us. Okay, not the strongest start.
“What brings you to Oak Crest today?” he asks.
I have four different possible opening lines here, but they all fly out of my head. What comes out is “You.”
I cringe, a flashback to Grace’s cheerleading days and theirBE AGGRESSIVE, BE BE AGGRESSIVE!making me want to cringe. I should not have started on a cringe.
Sawyer’s eyebrows fly up, disappearing under the irresistible swoop of his bangs. I want to brush them back so badly. I fold my hands in my lap instead. “What about me?”
“You didn’t answer my texts.”Yes, that’s much better. Now go on offense.It’s a hard fight not to roll my eyes at myself.
“It’s hard to know what you really want sometimes,” he said. “Seemed safer not to in case I got a third one saying not to text after all.”
It had hurt him when I’d told him not to reach out. It would have hurt me too. “I’m sorry about that,” I say. “Can I tell you about where my head has been?” The answer is,So far up my own—
“If you want,” he says.
It’s better than no.
I clear my throat and figure out where to start, trying to measure my words. “You surprised me when you showed up for the grand opening. I knew coming back here would involve me laying my ghosts to rest. I’ve tried to convince myself all these years I had done that but being back here proved I was kidding myself. So Ireallywasn’t prepared to deal with you in real life.”
“You hid that pretty well,” he says, “pulling off pranks like a boss.”
“I reached for old tools.”
