"Sawyer."
She halts her steps, her shoulders stiff as she whirls around to face me.
Quinn and Brayden do the same, their curious eyes bouncing between the two of us.
Sawyer holds my gaze, her beautiful features remaining unreadable. She's going to make me work for it.
Give it to me, Peaches.
I clear my throat. "Can we talk?"
She stares at me for a beat, then, "Okay." But she doesn't move an inch from her spot.
"What's the hold-up?" Giovanni's voice rings out from behind me, and I don't have to look over my shoulder to know that Bennett and Jamie are with him, too.
Sawyer's brow arches up, as if she's challenging me to speak up in front of our audience.
My jaw ticks. I'm not happy about it, but if that's what she wants, then I'll do it. "I'm sorry, I've been a complete ass."
She blinks at me.
Quinn's and Brayden's jaws drop to the floor.
Behind me, I hear someone let out a chuckle before covering it with a fake cough.
I want nothing more than to glare at everyone and tell them to fuck off. And I'd do it too, if I didn't think that it wouldn't do me any good. Sawyer's not happy with me as it is. Acting like a grumpy ass will just piss her off even more.
"Are we good now?" I feel my ears reddening from embarrassment but I still keep my eyes on her, waiting for her reaction, waiting to see that beautiful smile directed at me again.
Sawyer stares at me for a long moment, then, "No."
I blink at her. "What?"
But she's already walking away as if she didn't hear me, causing her friends to shoot wide-eyed glances at me before going after her.
Meanwhile I'm left rooted to my spot, completely dumbfounded. What the hell just happened?
"Damn. That was harsh," Bennett whistles.
I don't say anything, my eyes trailing after Sawyer. Now, what?
CHAPTER 20
Sawyer
"What is Romania!"
I jump in my seat, almost sending my laptop falling from my lap.
Dad is shouting Jeopardy! questions at the TV again. I should have known this would happen when he sat on the couch and commanded the remote control.
Huffing out a sigh, I close my laptop and hop up to my feet. There won't be any writing done if I stay here. Tucking it under my arm, I walk past Duke who's staring up at Dad with his head tilted and ears perked up—probably wondering if there's something wrong with him. And climb upstairs to my room.
I need to get some writing done, but I don't feel like working within the confines of my room. I need a different environment to get my creative juices flowing. Which is why I went down to the living room in the first place. But then, Dad showed up and it ended being a bust.
Coffee shop, it is. I'd managed to do some writing there a few times, anyway.
Walking into my closet, I reach for a green shirt romper and change into it. My hair is gathered in a slightly messy bun on top of my head, but it doesn't look so bad so I decide against redoing it. Not even bothering with makeup, I put my wallet and phone inside my laptop bag, then step into my black flats before grabbing my car keys and heading back downstairs.
"Going somewhere, kid?" Dad cranes his neck around to look at me when I reach the living room to say goodbye.
"Yeah. I'm in the mood for some frappé. Want me to buy you anything?"
"No. I'm good."
"Okay. See you later then." I lean down to kiss his cheek before he can yell another Jeopardy! question.
"Don't stay out too late," he calls after me.
"I won't."
There's no reason for me to stay out late, anyway. I don't have any plans with Quinn and Brayden today. And I'm certainly not going over to Parker's house—the very reason why I'd stayed out until the following morning last time. It's not going to happen again any time soon. Probably ever.
Even though he did try to talk to me the past few days. To apologize, I guess. But I was still too pissed to forgive him. So I made sure to tell him no whenever he tried—to his bewilderment and great amusement of his friends. Bennett even commented that nobody had ever dared to say no to Parker. That I was the exception.
Like it was an achievement or something.
No. I'm not going to think about Parker right now. He already spends a lot of time inside my head. Not today. I have to focus on my short stories to build my portfolio.
The thing is, I've already finished several stories. I can use them if I want to. But I've eventually decided to write under a single theme—romance—which happens to be my favorite genre, so I have a long way to go to get them done.
Not that I'm complaining. Writing has always been therapeutic for me. And some of the best times I ever had were spent in front of my laptop. I guess being a writer is really in my blood.
Sipping the last of my chocolate chip frappé, I put my laptop back into my bag. I just finished proofreading what I'd written the last couple hours, and I'm now getting ready to leave. But before I can do that, a tall figure stops next to my table.
"Heading out already?"
I freeze at the familiar voice. What is he doing here? With a mask in place, I glance up. "Actually, yes."
"Stay." When I just stare at him blankly, Liam pleads, "Please. I just want to talk to you." Before I can say no, he pulls up a chair across the table and settles in.
"Fine, I'll give you five minutes." I sigh and sit back down. "What do you want
