Page 32 of Knockin' Boats
Mel gaped at me as I ran from the scene of the crime—my reckless, impulsive kiss with Sawyer.
Sawyer!
The guy who already hated me.
“Did I see what I think I saw?” she asked with a shocked laugh.
“Yes, and it’s your fault!”
“My fault?” Mel squawked.
I snagged her wrist but kept moving. I didn’t want to take any chances. Sawyer might decide to dock the boat, jump out, and kick my ass.
He’d be justified, because what the fuck had I been thinking? The manalreadyhad a major grudge against me. I’d broken his trust when we were teens. I’d never gotten to make proper amends. And now I’d totally mangled my attempt at an apology.
I charged across the lawn, dragging Mel behind me, and ducked into the guest house where I’d been staying the past few months. I threw the door closed and peeked out the window.
Sawyer and his boat were long gone.
I exhaled, unsure whether to feel relieved or not. Part of me thought we needed a good fight. Maybe if he decked me, we could get past the resentment and anger.
I threw myself onto the wicker loveseat, grunting at the rough landing. “What the fuck have I doooone?”
“Well, that’s pretty obvious. You laid a big old smacker on Sawyer. Not that I blame you. He’s hot.”
“Not helping,” I muttered.
“Fine.” Mel walked into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. She pulled out a bottle of cabernet. “Will wine help?”
“Yes.Please.”
Mel grabbed the corkscrew and couple of glasses. The guest house had an open-floor plan, so I saw her roll her eyes. “So, how is this my fault exactly?”
“You told me to clear the air,” I said.
“I told you to talk to him, notkisshim.”
“I was trying to do that! But then you were here, and he was jumping to all sorts of conclusions about what it meant, and I… I needed to…”
I trailed off, because my logic sort of collapsed at that point.
Mel poured the wine. “You needed to kiss him?”
“Yes!” I exclaimed. “Well…no. I don’t know. It seemed like a good idea at the time. It all happened so fast. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“Mm-hmm.” She returned to the living room and handed a glass to me.
I’d wanted to convince Sawyer I wasn’t with Mel. Wasn’t interested in ever being with her. But I didn’tneedto kiss him.
Except in that moment, everything in me insisted I did.
I sat up and took a big gulp. I didn’t savor the flavors as I normally would have: the dark fruits and spices with notes of oak and vanilla.
Mel took a much smaller sip of her wine as she settled into the white wicker rocking chair beside the love seat. The whole place was decorated with a beach vibe. We were at the lake, not the ocean, so it didn’t totally make sense. But I guess it was as close as we got in the Midwest.
“You know what I think?” she said.
“What?”
