“He really doesn’t like taking no for an answer.” I chew on my lip for a second, glancing up and then immediately back down. “He cornered me while I was in the middle of showing Sawyer around and asked if I was dodging him.”
“Which you are. And rightfully so.” Quinn grimaces.
“Well, yeah, but I was trying to be nice about it.”
My eyes connect with Quinn’s as she gives a sharp jerk of her head. “Stop. Don’t be nice.”
I blow out a breath, miserable. It’s not that I want to be nice to him. But I can’t tell them what he’s holding over my head. I feel like the biggest idiot … and until I figure out how to handle it, I can’t completely blow him off or I’m screwed. Embarrassment washes over me, heating my whole body.
Zoey grimaces. “Seriously, Hadleigh. You deserve someone who will treat you right. Like more than his little plaything. You need someone who likes you for more than what they see on the outside. Someone who is actually nice, and not just fake nice to get into your pants. Ed isn’t the first guy you’ve dated who’s been like this, either.”
I bite my lip, unsure how to respond at first. Finally, I release it and quietly say, “I think I go after the same kind of guys because it’s what I know. I watched my mom flit from guy to guy. She never learned from her mistakes and dated all the wrong guys. Hell, I’m a product of one of those wrong guys.” I look up at my friends, sure they can see the sheen of tears in my eyes. “I’m terrified of getting stuck in the same cycle and repeating the past.”
Piper nods and grasps at my hand, squeezing gently. “But isn’t that something you teach in class? What’s that quote? Something about those who don’t learn history are doomed to repeat it. You already have the awareness of what you are doing to yourself every time you hook up with someone you know isn’t right for you. You’re very introspective. You’re aware of exactly what you’re doing when you do it. Stop gravitating toward the men who only lead to heartbreak.”
We’re quiet for a moment, and I’m not sure where to go from here. Zoey’s gaze catches mine. “Had, just to be clear, Piper doesn’t necessarily mean heartbreak as in you are sad when these men leave. Stop breaking your own heart. I hope that doesn’t sound harsh because all of us”—she points at everyone in our circle—“only want the best for you. We just wish you’d stop hurting yourself.”
But what if the right guy is finally in front of me and I can’t do anything about it?
Chapter 6
Sawyer
Over my shoulder, Willow hovers at the counter of our kitchen island, just biding her time. She taps her hands on the granite to the beat of the music we have playing. I can tell she knows something is up, but she’s waiting oh-so-patiently for me to bring it up. I appreciate that about her. She never pressures me to talk if I’m not ready. Sometimes I need a while to process things before I’m ready to discuss.
I give her a quick glance as I continue to move the food around in the skillet. “Are you ready to eat? Dinner is almost ready.” Our meal of stir-fried chicken, peppers, and onions has nearly finished cooking, and I have a pot full of rice ready to serve with it.
“You betcha. I’m starving. I could eat a whole damn horse.”
I chuckle and narrow my eyes at her. “Well then, here’s your weird history fact for the day—”
Willow groans, interrupting me. “Tell me it’s not about eating horses. I’m scared of what’s about to come out of your mouth.”
Since she lives with me, poor Willow hears more strange tidbits of trivia than I think she ever bargained for. She’s a good sport about it, even if she has no interest in half of what I tell her. I smirk, ready to lay a good one on her.
“As well you should be afraid, but no, it’s not about horses or eating them. Did you know”—I pause for effect—“that Genghis Khan ordered his army to eat every tenth man when it was clear his troops were starving?”
“Ew. That’s disgusting, Sawyer.” Willow makes her best stop grossing me out face. “I’d barf, but there’s nothing in my stomach. Did you hope that by telling me Khan ordered his army into cannibalism, you’d get all the stir-fry to yourself? Because if so, well done. I’m now sick to my stomach.”
I laugh, glad I could distract her from asking me any questions about my brooding. “The truth is, historians aren’t completely sure if the story is true, but the enemies believed it was, which was an effective way to instill fear, at the very least.” From the cupboard, I grab two plates and fill them with the homemade stir-fry and piping-hot rice.
Willow eyes me as she pulls a pair of forks from the drawer and hands one to me. She gripes, “I’m being so patient, by the way. So, so patient.”
Oops. Or maybe I hadn’t distracted her at all.
“I know.” I send her a small smirk as we sit on stools next to each other at the island. I’ll tell her what’s on my mind; I’m just trying to figure out which approach to take.
She rolls her eyes and digs into the hot food. Between bites, she makes little happy sounds and says, “Thanks, Sawyer. This is really good. Even if you’re being a pain in my ass about whatever is bothering you.”
I nod. “No problem.” I clear my throat and take a deep sigh. “Will, I think I’m in trouble.” I stab a piece of chicken with my fork, and pop it into my
