“Hell no. I wouldn’t want to make Finn more of a sad sack than he is now.” Caleb slides his club back into his cart bag.
Finn flips him the bird then starts to line up his own shot.
“So where’d you disappear to last night?” Caleb asks me, coming to stand at my side.
“What are you talking about?”
“Come on, don’t be shy. You disappeared with your hottie pretty quickly and never came back. So tell me all about it. Unless you’re embarrassed.” He snaps his finger. “That’s it. That’s why you’re barely speaking. What’s the matter? Couldn’t get it up?”
I swat the back of his head and knock his baseball cap off. “You’re a dick.”
He swipes it off the ground and pulls it back onto his head. “It’s a common problem, Isaac. One in ten men –”
I cut him off by pouring my very cold bottle of water over his head.
“Fuck. You. Getting it up wasn’t a problem. Not that it’s any of your goddamn business. Maybe I don’t want to tell you about this one, okay?”
“What are we talking about?” Finn asks, when he comes to put his club back in the bag.
Caleb goes to respond but I point a finger, threatening his life if he opens his mouth.
“I was telling Caleb that maybe I don’t want to share every sordid detail about anything I do, or don’t do, with Sawyer. I think that’s a fair fucking request.”
“Who are you and what have you done with our friend?” Finn crosses his arms over his chest.
“I’m still here, it’s just…” I hesitate and swing my club around absentmindedly, “different. She’s just different.”
“You really like this one, don’t you?” Finn asks.
“Yeah, yeah, I guess I do.”
“Well hell, I never thought I’d see the day Isaac Black was pussy-whipped, but you, sir, have been whipped by pussy.”
“Maybe I just think it’s time to be a little more grown.” I shrug.
“Nah, I’d rather keep on my path, banging whomever I’d like without anyone to answer to and without any expectations,” Caleb says, as he slides behind the steering wheel of the golf cart.
“One day, Caleb,” Finn points at him, and continues, “One day some girl is going to come by and knock you to the dirt, and I can’t wait to see it.”
Chapter 18
Sawyer
Isaac was unusually silent the entire trek back to Sunnyville.
Sure, he was speaking and cracking jokes with his friends here and there, but it felt like there was something on his mind. Obviously, being the overthinker that I am, I assume it has to do with last night.
It’s not until he’s helping me with my bags onto my front porch that I muster up the courage to say something to him.
“Are you all right?”
He slides his hands into his pockets. “I’m fine. Why?”
“You’re just being so quiet. It’s not a side of you I’m used to.” I smile a bit so he can see I’m simply checking on him.
I watch his face closely and see the slightest tick of his jaw before he answers, “I didn’t sleep much last night.”
He steps up toward me and slides his hand to rest at the small of my back.
“No? Hmm. I wonder why?” I tap my chin.
“Some hot brunette couldn’t get enough of me.”
“Are you sure about that? Maybe you couldn’t get enough of her.”
“That’s a distinct possibility,” he says, cupping one side of my face in his hand.
His eyes look full of thought. Like he’s here, but not really here. Like there is so much on his mind that he is having a hard time compartmentalizing it.
“Do you want to come inside? I can make us something to eat before you have to go rest up for your shift tomorrow.”
Please say yes. I’m not ready to end this yet, and I want to know if I’ve fallen too hard too fast.
He bends down to kiss my lips and nods his head. “Yes, I think I do.”
I smile against his kiss then pull away to let us in the front door.
Herbert greets us with a grump “oh, you’re back” look from his perch on the back of my sofa.
“Does that cat ever look happy?” he asks.
“Never. You know the Grumpy Cat meme? That’s basically him. He’s rude and a bit of an asshole, but I love him.” I walk by him and give his ear a scratch that he takes only for a moment before angling his head away.
“I guess that means he’s finished with you, huh?”
I giggle. “I guess so. Remember who feeds you, you little jerk.” I point at him and he just meows in response. “He probably misses Liv. She was the one feeding him while we were away and she sneaks him treats.”
“He can be bought with treats? I’ll keep that in mind.”
That one, simple sentence gives me hope that I didn’t have ten seconds ago. The ride here had given me plenty of time to overthink and determine he’d regretted things he said to me last night. That one sentence means he intends on sticking around awhile.
“Soup okay? I’m craving Italian Wedding.”
“Soup is great, but I don’t know what Italian Wedding is.”
“You’re in for a treat, then. Make yourself at home. I will heat some up. I won’t pretend it’s not canned. I keep it around for times just like this.”
I leave him in the living room with Herbert to make our soup, and when I come back a few minutes later, what I see stops me in my tracks.
“Oh my God,” I whisper.
“Don’t. Make. Any. Sudden. Movements,” Isaac says quietly as Herbert walks toward him, gives him a sniff, and starts to climb into his lap.
“You have got to be kidding me,” I say somewhere between a whisper and a yell.
Herbert starts working his paws back and forth on Isaac’s thigh, making biscuits, as I like to call it, before spinning in two circles then curling into a perfect pile right there on his legs.
Isaac looks at me
