Page 25 of Tattered Edges

Having poured all the proper ingredients, Rory shook them together, chilling the alcohol in the process. It was loud enough for him to miss Graham’s next question, but he was finished by the time Sawyer had an answer.

“I grew up in New York, but I went to college in California and never left. Until now, of course.”

“Oh, yeah? What’d you study?”

Rory poured the martini out of his shaker tin and into a chilled glass, not bothering to look up as he said, “She’s my neighbor, Graham, not some criminal under investigation.”

“It’s okay. I don’t mind,” insisted Sawyer.

He speared a toothpick through three olives, dropped them into her drink, then placed it on the bar in front of her. As he did so, he grabbed the box of biscuits to stow behind the counter. They weren’t his favorite, but he wasn’t an arse. Graham had already commandeered the wine. The least he could do was pretend he intended to eat the sweet treat.

She was smiling at him again when she said, “Thanks.”

Rory responded with no more than a nod as she immediately reached for the toothpick and slid a single olive into her mouth. He’d seen her do that before.Twice.The olives were her favorite part.

Bloody hell, he thought to himself, all but infuriated by how sexy she was without even trying.

“To answer your question,” she began, returning the remaining olives to her drink and shifting to face Graham. “I studied Art History during my undergrad. Then a couple of years later, I went back to earn my PhD in English Lit.”

Rory hadn’t been expecting that answer. He couldn’t say he’d given a lot of thought to Sawyer’s life before she’d entered his on Sunday evening; and perhaps he shouldn’t have been surprised—but he’d been raised by an academic. Much as he loved her, his mother wasn’t nearly as entertaining as the Sawyer he’d encountered.

Graham, as Rory would soon find out, was just as surprised.

“PhD? No offense, darling, but you look neither old enough nor stuffy enough to be that educated.”

“Um, thank you? I think?” Sawyer teased before taking a sip of her drink.

“I know it’s considered rude to ask a woman how old she is, but I’m too damn curious.”

Setting aside her drink, she replied, “I don’t mind. I’m thirty-one.”

“Ahh. Still but a babe.”

“Am I? How old are you?”

Oscar tapped Rory on the elbow, distracting him from the conversation across the bar. A new ticket had come in. Four cocktails. Each of them different. Thinking it all for the best he kept his distance from his neighbor, Rory got to work and tuned her out. This worked for ten minutes, until a break between orders broke his concentration.

“Wow, so this is your first time in London?” asked Graham.

Rory shook his head. Graham had always been the type who could talk to anyone. Usually, when they were together at a party or a social event of some kind, it worked in his favor. Rory was hardly ever tasked with carrying a conversation. But that night, his friend’s extroverted nature was beginning to grate on his nerves.

“Mmhmm. I haven’t had a chance to do a lot of exploring yet, but I plan to. ”

“Well, I’m sure you’ve got a list of all the tourists traps, but if you need any recommendations for things off the beaten path, just ask.”

“Actually, now that you mention it, where would be the best place for me to watch the Manchester United match this weekend? Seems wrong for me to move to England only to watch a soccer game by myself.”

Rory whispered a curse under his breath before his eyes shifted from Sawyer to Graham. Not surprisingly, Graham caught Rory’s eye and grinned.

“If you want to know the best place, it’s just upstairs, in the flat above this pub. You should definitely come over. I’ll be there. My wife and my daughter, too. I’m sure Maya would love to meet you. It’ll be great fun.”

“Upstairs?” Sawyer looked at Rory. “As inyourplace?”

“You won’t meet a more dedicated Man-U fan than Rory, here.”

Her gray eyes still aimed at his blue ones, she replied, “If it’s okay, I would love to come over.”

“Of course, it’s okay,” insisted Graham.

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