Page 74 of Power Play

“That’s not fair. That wasn’t a choice,” she says, rolling her eyes.

“Stupid rule. The best breakfast food—that’s sweet, that is—is French toast. Just wait and try my sisters, it’s fucking incredible.

We spend the next hour trying item after item, each one somehow more delicious than the last. When the French toast comes out, I love watching her eyes light up when she tastes Stella’s French toast. I think she may be enjoying it a bit too much, though.

“So, what’s the verdict?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

“Holy shit,” she moans.

“Yeah, let’s not make that sound out in public.” I glare, adjusting myself under the table.

“This is the best thing I’ve ever tasted. So much better than waffles,” she says, her mouth full.

“So, I have two questions. First question: how’s it going with the studio hunt situation?” I ask.

“It’s not. Pretty much anything I can afford is taken right now, so I’m just going to keep saving and see what comes up.”

“Makes sense. Same location or branching out around the city a bit?”

“I’d love if it were close to the city, but at this point I just want the opportunity to teach kids how to dance, so I’m open to anything,” Sawyer says, sipping her coffee between bites. “Second question?”

I love being here with her, sitting across from her having breakfast. I could get used to this, which prompts my next question.

“How would you feel about telling Rory about us?”

The whole time she was sleeping in my arms last night, I couldn’t help thinking about how much I loved feeling her next to me. I love spending time with her, and she’s amazing with my daughter. The more I learn about this woman, the harder I fall for her, but in reality, I’m already hers.

“Are you sure? What happened to taking things slow?” Sawyer asks curiously.

“I mean, I’m all for taking things slow. But I want to be out in the open with you. I want Rory to know you’ll be spending time with us. I just don’t like hiding us, even if it’s just from a four-year-old,” I tell her.

“You know that means the whole preschool will know, right?” she asks.

“Yup, still don’t care.”

“Then, deal.”

We spent the next hour walking around Central Park, obviously stopping at her favorite ice cream place before having to part ways. Thankfully, we’re just about to enter the playoffs, so things will slow down for a while, and we can spend more time together, especially if my plan for getting her a studio works out.

20

SAWYER

“What happens if you just don’t show up?” Cassie asks from my bed, where she’s made herself very comfortable under the covers.

“You know my mother. I’m pretty sure she’d come haunt me in my dreams or something. She’s not a nice woman.” I glare from my closet as I finally get dressed.

My mother picked the restaurant, so of course it’s some fancy steakhouse that’s going to serve tiny portions of subpar quality. But that’s her, she’d prefer the name and the clout over things of quality or substance. This just means I had to dress up, which I hate. Thankfully, after dinner I have no plans, so I’ve been thinking about heading to the studio to dance.

I’m not sure what’s been different lately, but I’ve been feeling lighter, less weighed down by my past, injuries included. I’ve even been considering dancing again.

“That’s putting it lightly, Sawyer. I’m sorry to say it, but your mom’s a bitch,” Cassie says, not worried about offending me because we both know it’s true.

“I mean, yeah. It just feels shitty to say sometimes. I feel like people should like their moms, and not think they suck.”

“Yeah, well people shouldn’t have moms as crazy and manipulative as yours.”

“Fuck. Is it really 5:00? I need to get going if I’m going to be there at 5:30,” I say, shoving my feet in my boots and grabbing my purse.

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