Page 51 of Uncharted Desires
“Blake, I’m really worried.”
“Are you really here?”
“Yes! What are you talking about?”
“But—” My eyes snap to the motorcycle still lying by the curb. The wheels have stopped turning. My hand is heavy when I lift it and point. “Your bike.”
He looks over his shoulder. “That’s not mine. I parked over there.”
My head spins. “Are you really here?”
“I’m here, Blake.”
Tears flood my eyes, and I collapse on the pavement. I swallow the air in big gulps and suffocate at the same time.
Sawyer squats in front of me and leans in.
I scream, hitting his chest with my fists. “I hate you!” My hands don’t go through his body as I hit him time and time again. His flesh is solid. “I hate you! I hate you!”
He grabs my wrists and pulls my hands down. “Shhh.” The Sawyer I still don’t fully believe is real, wraps his arm around my head and presses my face to his chest. “I’m here. It’s okay.”
The softness in his voice makes me weep even more. “What happened?” I mumble between sobs. “Why are you covered in blood?”
He tightens his hold around me. “There’s been an accident. A car ran a red light and hit the biker driving in front of me. I was giving him CPR before the paramedics arrived. It was a mess.”
The biker. Not Sawyer, the biker. A different one.
“Is he…”
“No,” Sawyer says before I can bring myself to finish the question. “It doesn’t look great, but no. They said he’s gonna pull through.”
My sobs come out dry now. I have no more tears left. “You’re really here.”
“I’m here.”
We sit on the curb for hours, my head pressed against his chest, listening to his heartbeat.
The next time I open my eyes, dawn breaks and the first rays of the early morning sun shines through the clouds. He can’t drive away to the moonset anymore.
There’s sand under my eyelids and I struggle to keep my eyes open to see Sawyer’s face. I put my palm on his cheek and stroke it with my thumb. “Sawyer? I don’t care if you walk away—”
“I won’t.”
“I don’t care if you leave. I don’t care if you decide you never want to see me again one day. That’s okay. But don’t youdaredie before me. You hear me?”
He gives me a sad smile. “It’s not that easy to get rid of me.”
“I’m serious.”
He nods. “I’ll do my best.”
“Do better!”
His forehead presses against mine, and I close my eyes again. “Promise?”
“I promise.”
People walk by us, paying us no mind as the morning traffic comes.
