Page 37 of Sawyer

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I’ve planned a progressive dinner date for this evening, which means we start with cocktails at the Parsnip, then move on to appetizers at the Skagway Brewing Company. We share king crab legs for dinner at Olivia’s, and then I treat her to a doughboy at the Klondike Bakery.

We’re sitting outside, finishing the fried dough covered in cinnamon and sugar, when she smiles at me.

“You’re surprising.”

“How so?”

“This was fun. Tonight. It was really thoughtful. Creative.”

For most of the evening, we’ve enjoyed light, playful conversation—catching up on the classes she took at college this year, and which tours we’ve added to the Stewart Family offerings this summer. We haven’t talked about anything serious. It’s just been fun. Carefree. But the sun’s falling a touch in the sky, coloring the streets of Skagway in lavender. Most of the tourists have returned to their ships. It’s my favorite time of day and makes everything feel magical and a little ethereal. It’s a perfect time for sharing secrets.

“I’ve never planned a date like this,” I confess.

“No? Well, you’re very good at it,” she says, pulling off another piece of dough and sliding it between her lips. “Must be the tour guide in you.”

A smudge of sugar sits on her cheek. I reach forward with my thumb and swipe it off, then slide my thumb between my lips. I hold her gaze the whole time, watching her eyes darken and feeling a buzzing in my stomach.

“I want you to come back to my apartment with me,” she says, glancing at the hot pink building across the street, then back at me. “But I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”

“What do you mean?”

“I want to sleep with you. I think I’ve wanted to sleep with you for years, Sawyer.” She takes a deep breath and lets it go slowly. “But we need to be on the same page because I don’t want anyone getting hurt. It can’t mean anything. It can’t lead to anything serious. You get that, right?”

“This guy you were dating,” I say, wishing I had him in front of me so I could beat him black and blue, “what did he do to you?”

“Clark? He cheated on me. I walked in on him.”

I feel her words like a blow to the gut. It hurts. It fucking hurts to imagine anyone cheating on the girl sitting across from me.

“Fuck,” I mutter. “I’m sorry, Ivy.”

“Yeah,” she says. “It was bad. It really sucked.”

She licks her index finger then presses it to the leftover sugar on the plate. When she licks her finger, blood races to my cock. Iwanther. I want her so badly.

“If you weremygirl—”

“I’m not.” Her eyes fly up to meet mine, her expression severe. “I’mnotyour girl. I’m not anyone’s girl right now.”

“I know,” I say quickly. “I just meant—”

“I know what you meant,” she says, “but thinking like that will lead to feelings, and feelings will ruin a potential summer of fun. We’re friends. We’ve always been friends, Sawyer.”

“Last few years, we’ve been friends with benefits, Ivy.”

She grins at me. “Is kissing me a benefit?”

“It is.”

“Stop being so cute.”

“Maybe I can’t help it.”

“Sawyer, I’m serious about this. You can’t catch feelings for me,” she says, her smile fading and her eyes earnest. “I’m leaving in September just like always.”

I nod at her. “I know.”

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