Page 84 of Sawyer

“It’s a surprise,” I say. “You’ll see!”

On the corner of 2ndand Spring, we stop in front of the Brena Building, and I reach into my pocket for my new keyring.

“You ready?” I ask him, holding up my keys.

“I’m ready to find out what the heck we’re doing here,” he says, looking up at the new, three-story building that houses a gift shop and gem boutique at street level.

“Come on,” I say, unlocking the outside door.

Once inside the small lobby, I stomp my boots on a mat, and he does the same. Then, I lead the way to the wooden stairs.

“Second floor,” I say, grinning at him as I take the stairs two at a time.

“What’s up here?” he asks from behind me.

“Come on!”

We get to the second-floor landing and turn down a carpeted hallway to a door marked 203. I use my second key to open the door, grab Sawyer’s hand and pull him inside. The room we enter is dark, though some ambient light filters in from the streetlights below.

It smells new, I think, loving the new paint on the walls, the new varnish on the floor, the new-life-for-Ivy smell of my brand-new apartment.

I reach behind Sawyer and flick a switch, which turns on a light in the kitchen. Looking up at him, I watch him survey the space—a kitchen, which includes a counter with two stools, an alcove area that will be my living room someday, and another small area to our right that I will furnish with a dining room table and chairs.

Finally, he looks down at me, a question in his expression, his lips wobbling with the promise of a smile, and his eyes sparkling.

“It’s mine,” I tell him, barely able to keep the excitement from my voice. “I signed a two-year lease.”

“It’s yours?” he asks, that smile cracking his face in half.

“Yep! I’m staying,” I tell him. “I’m staying in Skagway.”

He stares back at me, quiet and inscrutable, and suddenly, I feel a little shy. It’s a big deal to uproot my whole life and begin again from scratch in Skagway. I have family here, of course, and my job at city hall will go full-time with benefits in January, so it makes sense to choose to move here.

But Sawyer and I never talked about my staying, and I hope he’s okay with it. When I was planning to move to Juneau with Clark, I had a formal commitment in place and an engagement ring on my finger. What Sawyer and I have is so much deeper, but it’s much less defined.

He doesn’t say anything, just lifts his eyes to my apartment again, scanning the room, and avoiding me. A kind of terrible, seeping disappointment starts building inside of me:this isn’t exactly the response I’d hoped for.I’m about to suggest we go back downstairs when I see him reach up and swipe at his cheek. That’s when I notice that his jaw is tight. He blinks his eyes over and over again.

Oh my god.He’s not upset that I’m staying, I realize, tenderness flooding my heart. He’s so happy about it, he’s speechless.

“Hey,” I say, flattening my hands on his chest. “Is this okay with you? Me, moving here?”

With a soft growl, he pulls me into his arms, crushing me against his chest.

“Okay?” he asks gruffly. “This is so much better than okay, I…I don’t know how…”

I lean my head back and reach up to cradle his jaw in my hands. His eyes are bright and shiny with unshed tears as I lean up on tiptoes and press my lips to his. He leans into the kiss for a second, deepening it as he spins us around, so my back is against the door. Then he tears his lips from mine, looking down at my face.

“You’re staying.”

I lick my lips, staring at his, wanting them back. “Mm-hm.”

“You signed a two-year lease?”

I nod, skimming my eyes to his. “Yeah.”

“This…” he says, gulping softly. “Us…”

“We don’t have to define it—”

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