Page 44 of Waiting For Fate

She has always been a much better person than I am, though.

“No need to whisper, Dove. It’s just us.” I smirk, standing from the bench underneath where my jersey hangs. When she steps into the space completely, I take a minute to admire her up close.

“Oh my gosh, Sawyer!” I can’t help but smile when she turns her head away from me, holding her hand up to shield her eyes.

“What’s the matter, Leah? Don’t like what you see?” I have on my hockey pads, but I’ve stripped out of my jersey already. When she splits her fingers open and peeks through them, I bark out a laugh.

“Take it in, Dove. There’s no one here but us.” I hold my arms out and wink at her. She huffs and turns to face me completely, no longer feeling the need to hide from me, apparently.

“Is this what you needed me for? To parade around shirtless in the locker room?” When her brow arches the bite to her tone and the little bit of attitude she’s giving me, makes my dick twitch.

“No, it wasn’t.” She stumbles backwards as I stalk closer to her, closing the distance between us until my body is pressed firmly against hers.

“Sawyer, what are you doing?” Her breathless tone makes me want to forego answering her and kiss her until neither of us can feel our lips anymore. But I somehow refrain.

“Truthfully? Trying like hell not to kiss you right now.” A small gasp escapes her lips while her cheeks turn bright red. “But that’s not why I asked you back here. I wanted to apologize.”

“For what?” She clears her throat. Her head is tilted up to look at me, her nose nearly brushing my own from how close I am keeping her.

“So many things, Dove. But I guess I’ll start with how I acted at the last game you attended.” My jaw ticks as I remember seeing her kiss someone else.

“You must have really hated seeing Jackson kiss me.” Her voice is low, as our eyes connect and suddenly my apology takes an intense turn.

“You want to know what I hated, Dove?”

“Sawyer… I didn’t?—”

“I hated not showing up for you at Flapjacks that day. I hated not talking to you every day after that, and not being able to tell you about my days—good or bad, I always wanted to share them with you. I hated that I lost my best friend and I hate that we lost ten years together. I hate that I waited so damn long to finally say fuck it and tell you how I really feel about you. I hate that that sneaky little weasel made it to you before I did, and I really hated that you wore your hair natural for him.”

“You like my curly hair?” She blinks a few times, her eyes wide like she’s still processing the rest of what I just told her. I smirk, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.

“Are you kidding? When your hair is curly, and you have your glasses propped up on that perfect nose of yours while getting lost in one of your favorite books or watching one of your favorite movies—that’s my favorite version of you. I could stare at you for the rest of eternity and never stop finding new things to adore about you.” Her chest rises and falls more quickly now, her breasts brushing against my bare chest with every breath. I’m dying to wrap her legs around me and let my hands glide beneath her dress to see if she wants me as badly as I want her right now.

God what I wouldn’t do to know what her body feels like beneath my touch.

“I—” I hold my finger up to her lips, letting my eyes fall to them before I meet her gaze again.

“You don’t have to say anything. I can see how hard that perfect brain of yours is working right now while you process. But I was going crazy not telling you how I felt. I’m sorry I handled things the way that I did back then. I thought my reason was valid, but regardless of that reason, I shouldn’t have treated you that way. Our friendship was never one-sided, Dove. I just needed you to know that.”

Leah jumps when she hears commotion outside the locker room door and looks at me with panic in her eyes. I give her a reassuring wink and open the door.

“Thanks for bringing me my backup shirt, Dove. I would have hated wandering around outside without one.” Matty and Rooney stand up straight and clear their throats, nodding at Leah as she walks out of the locker room.

“Uh, yeah. No, you’re problem.” My brows knit together, and I roll my lips together to keep from laughing. “I meant no problem or you’re welcome.” She shakes her head, her cheeks growing redder by the second. I can’t contain my laughter any longer and finally let a laugh slip.

“See if I ever answer your texts again, asshole.” She rolls her eyes before glaring at me and tossing her long brown hair over her shoulder.

“You will.” Her eyes grow wide when I wink at her prompting her swift exit down the hallway. I let Matty and Rooney make their jokes about what was going on before they showed up while I get dressed, and when I finally leave the rink, I feel lighter than I have in years. I’m nowhere near done making up for lost time with her, and I still have so much I want to say to her—but this is a start. The fact that she even came to the locker room to begin with feels like a major step in the right direction for us to finally start over.

CHAPTER 19

LEAH

I’ve never personally experienced my heart stopping but being pressed against a wall by Sawyer’s shirtless body, while he tells me he’s trying not to kiss me, definitely made me feel like it skipped a few beats. I would have thought I was having an out of body experience if I hadn’t been so responsive to his touch. I was already a puddle for him before he ever opened his mouth to tell me everything he hated about being apart and apologizing for the way things ended between us.

I hate that I had to rush out when his teammates showed up, I hate that when he said he was trying not to kiss me all I wanted was for him to do it anyways. I hate that every time I’m around him I lose all control of my own thoughts, but what I hate even more is that as soon as I was on the other side of that door, it hit me that I’m still dating Jackson and guilt over everything I was thinking and feeling about Sawyer crept into the deepest parts of my mind.

Oh my god, I’m a horrible person.

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