Page 7 of Sofa King Devotion

“You coming?” Sawyer holds the passenger door open for me.

“Yeah, hold on.” I need to make sure it gets there in one piece, and I’m not ready to part with it. I love all of my creations, but this one feels special.

I lock up the shop before climbing into Sawyer's truck. He makes sure the cabinet is bundled up safely and tied down.

"Are you going to tell me why you got cold?" Sawyer asks when he backs out of the parking spot.

"Did you wait until I was trapped in your truck to ask me that?"

"I asked because I want to know." His gaze slides to me before returning to the road. It looks like I might have really hurt his feelings.

"I'm sorry, Sawyer. It's not you. It's me." I snort a laugh as soon as the words pass my lips. "That sounded cliché."

"That it did." He shakes his head, clearly not finding it as humorous as I did.

"It really is me. It’s my own shit."

"Your own shit? So it has nothing to do with me?"

I should have known he wouldn't let it go. "To a degree, I suppose, but it shouldn't be on you." I shrug one shoulder, not wanting to say more.

Sawyer pulls around to the back of City Hall where the loading area is located. A number of people are already here getting set up for tonight. I go to unclip my seatbelt, but Sawyer covers my hand with his to stop me.

“I hate when you pull away from me.” Sawyer's brows furrow together, and his expression turns sullen. I'm not accustomed to seeing Sawyer this way. He always has a smile or a quick smartass comment, ready to spar with me.

“We’re not kids anymore, Sawyer.”

“Trust me. I know we’re not kids.” His eyes meet mine, and I can see there’s no playfulness to them.

“It changes things.”

“Why?”

“Seriously?” I blink at him. How can he not see it?

"Yes, seriously!” He’s pissed and trying to hide it, but it’s bleeding through. “Cut me some slack here."

"You're bringing this up now?” We've been this way for over a decade, and he’s choosing today to lay it out?

"Better late than never," he quips back.

"That's the thing, Sawyer, it is too late." It hurts my own chest admitting that to him.

Sawyer and I can never be what I once wanted when I was a young girl. He’s always been the only one for me, but clearly it wasn’t the same for him. If we tried to be together now, I think I’d always feel like I was some kind of consolation prize.

"It's not. You and I?—”

"Are what? Friends?” I say, looking him in the eyes. “We fight constantly. I'm starting to wonder if you're a masochist."

"Only for you." He’s not smiling, and his tone is far from playful.

"No." I shake my head. "That's just it, Sawyer. Nothing about you is only for me, and it hasn’t been that way in a long time."

"Lane,” he says, and there’s an ache in his voice. “You’re?—"

A knock on the window has Sawyer pulling back to see who it is. While he’s distracted, I quickly hop out of his truck. I hear him mutter a curse before I shut the door behind me.

“Is this it?” Evie hurries over toward me, her heels clicking loudly on the concrete. She has been putting this auction together for as long as I can remember. “Been dying to see what you made for us.” She gives me a bright smile. “Joshua!” Her smile drops instantly. “You drop that, and I swear I’ll tan your ass.”

---