Page 16 of Uncharted Desires
It’s windy up here, the breeze tussling our hair. I’m sure it’s just my imagination, but the air seems somehow less polluted. Like it contains more oxygen.
Sawyer casually walks until he stops two feet from the roof’s edge, puts one foot on the parapet wall, inhales deeply and looks at the nothingness stretching in front of us.
I take a second to observe him. A part of me wishes I knew what’s going on in his head right now.
“So?” I finally say when it’s obvious Sawyer’s not going to initiate a conversation. “What’s the point of,” I motion my chin around, “this?”
Sawyer takes his time, as if enjoying the clear air for a few more breaths, before he says, “Does everything have to have a point?”
He kicks a piece of gravel off the parapet, my eyes following it down where it disappears in a narrow strip of empty space between two buildings.
I scoff and open my mouth to retort before my heart stops momentarily as Sawyer steps on the parapet with both feet and then jumps to the other building’s roof.
“Are you insane?” I snap the second both of Sawyer’s feet land safely on the other side.
He turns to face me. “I don’t know, Blake. AmIinsane? Or areyoujust uptight?”
“What are you talk—” The rest of the sentence gets stuck in my throat when Sawyer stretches his hand toward me. “Oh, hell no.”
“Why not? Chickening out again?”
The audacity of his guy. “I’m not chickening out. Sorry if I’m unwilling to risk my life for your amusement.” The life-risking part might be a stretch since there’s only about three feet gap between the buildings. Still, that’s three feet twelve floors above the ground.
He lowers his hand, and the smirk on his face is nothing if not condescending. “Yeah. Didn’t think so.” He looks me over from head to toe while running his tongue over his upper teeth before he turns around, puts his hands in his pockets, and moves to walk away.
It’s like this invisible switch in my brain flips. Is it possible to be drawn to someone and wholeheartedly hate them at the same time? Because that’s exactly what’s going on. My shoulders stiffen and my nostrils flare as I yell at the top of my lungs, “You’re fucking unbelievable, you know that?”
Sawyer halts and sways from foot to foot before leisurely pivoting on his heel to face me, hands still casually resting in his pockets as if to signal his disinterest. “What was that, trust fund boy? I didn’t quite catch that.”
My vision goes white. I’m going to fucking kill him.
I barely register when my feet climb on the parapet and after taking a deep breath, which does nothing to oxygenate my rage-fueled brain, I take the leap.
It’s not until I’m on the other side, my feet steady on the ground and a tight grip around my biceps, that I realize what I’ve done.
“Don’t you fucking touch me!” I yank my arm out of Sawyer’s grip, my heart pounding a thousand beats per minute. “You think you're so smug, don’t you? You think you’re the king of the fucking world, and the rest of us are your fucking servants? Well, guess what?” I push his shoulders with my hands and advance on him the second he walks backward, a smug smile remaining on his face. “You’re nothing but a fucking bully. A Peter Pan who’s decided he’s better than anyone else. An overgrown toddler that—”
“Hey!” A roar, I’m sure, is heard all the way down tears out of Sawyer’s throat. It happens in a flash. He grabs my wrists in a vice-like grip, spins us around, and launches forward until my back hits a solid surface of a wall of an adjacent building. “You knownothingabout me. You hear me?Nothing. Don’t for a second think otherwise.”
I yank my hands, but his grip is unyielding, the backs of my wrists getting scrapped by the wall. My heart is racing, and cold sweat runs down my neck. But despite my current position, one thing still fuels me—for the first time, I finally got a reaction. I do my best to unclench my jaw. “Nah. I think it’s still your delusion talking. Making you feel like you’re special.”
He tightens his grip. “Watch it.”
“Or what?”
He offers no more words, but the expression on his face says it all—furious, wild, animalistic.
His chest pushes me into the wall and I can feel it expand as he takes deep, frantic breaths, hot exhales landing on my face, his lips an inch from mine. Close. Too close.
Then I catch it. It doesn’t last longer than half a second, but his eyes drop to my mouth before he looks me in the eye, his gaze challenging. He runs his tongue along his lower lip.
My breath hitches in my throat, and even though I know he doesn’treallywant to kiss me, that I’m imagining things, the threat is real in my mind all the same.
And suddenly, that’s more than I can handle.
I gather all the strength I possess in my tense muscles and use my foot to push off the wall. I must take him by surprise because a second later, my body pins his to the wall, my forearm pressed against his throat. A spark flashes in his eyes.
Better.Muchbetter.
