Page 16 of The Inevitable Us

When the doors swing closed, my gaze meets Sawyer’s, as if we had the same thought. Alone. His jaw tightens from where he is standing on top of the ladder, still working. He periodically pulls out his phone as if checking the angle of the lens on an app. I narrow my eyes at him, hating that he is reinstalling my invader, not even acknowledging I’ve destroyed it.

Grabbing an empty bin, I walk into the commercial refrigerator to bring out produce to chop. I pull my sleeves down to partially cover my hands from the chill as I grab heads of lettuce, cucumbers, and tomatoes.

The door to the fridge swings open, and I find Sawyer standing in the entryway, glaring at me. I return his glare with one of my own and go back to my work. He slams the refrigerator door behind him as I stack a second produce bin on top of the other to fill it.

I can feel him behind me, as I always feel Sawyer close. He stalks towards me, and my body stills. Once I can see his breath fog up the cool air, his body inches from mine, I brave a brief glimpse behind me. He places one hand on the shelf right above my head and the other on my hip and leans into my body, pressing me against the cool metal of the freezer, making my nipples pucker from the chill in the air, the closeness of Sawyer.

His nose trails down from my ear to the crook of my neck as if he’s breathing in my scent; goosebumps from the cold and Sawyer’s proximity pepper my skin. I shiver. He’s never been this close to me before, always touching me as little as he has to.

His fingers grip harder onto my hip, and for the first time in my life, I feel an erection start to grow hard against my back. He huffs out a deep, impatient breath. “Are you proud of your handiwork, Rosalie? Proud of acting like a brat?”

I turn out of his grasp so that we’re belly to belly now and scowl up at him. “I’m allowed some privacy. You were invading mine.”

He lets out a deep chuckle. “Baby Girl, let’s not play games. I know why you trashed the camera. You did a pretty good job of it, too; I was surprised.” His hand comes up to my hair, fingering a wavy curl, the other wraps around my waist. “Why won’t you just be my good girl Rosalie?”

I raise my chin at him, commanding a fake bravado. “I’ve always been good. It’s gotten me nowhere. Maybe I should do whatever I feel like doing from now on. I think it suits me better.”

He chuckles, fingering a long strand of hair between two fingers. He shakes his head, his forehead wrinkling with displeasure. “Good girls don’t put on a show for the security team. You’re lucky I was the one that saw and not Rodrigo or Landon.” His jaw tightens. “I don’t need to tell you how displeased I would’ve been, Rosalie, if it had been one of them that had seen your little performance.”

I throw him a smirk of my own through the side of my mouth. “Maybe I wanted one of them to see it. Landon is only a few years older than I am. Maybe it was for him.”

His grip around my waist tightens, and he grasps ahold of my ponytail. “Is that what you want, Rosalie? Do you want one of the younger guys?” His hands drop from my waist and hair, releasing me.

I watch his Adam’s apple bob for a moment while he stares into my eyes. His hands are in fists at his side. “Be a good girl, Rosalie. And for fuck sake, tell your parents you’ll go to culinary school already. It’s four weeks until classes start. We’ll never be able to make the final arrangements in time if you wait any longer.”

He pivots out of the walk-in, closing the door behind himself without giving me, no longer worthy of his attention, a backward glance.

I sit in the freezer until the cold starts to become too much, trying to regain my composure. What does this mean? One minute he’s acting as if he wants me, and in the same breath, he’s telling me to go to Knoxville!

When I walk back into the kitchen, Trevor is standing in the middle of the kitchen, looking around dazed. His bright red hair is tied back in a navy bandana against Uncle Carson’s strict uniform policy. His eyes are also bloodshot and not from lack of sleep. “Ro! We’re so behind on food orders! Where have you been?”

I make a face at the skunkish smell that wafts from his clothing and lift the crates of produce I carried. “I have to prep the food to make it. I don’t have any help today since Rory quit. Why don’t you come back here and help me instead of goofing off?”

“Well, Mallory says...” he starts to stammer out, pointing to the front of the café.

I purse my lips together and throw the produce bin down with a frustrated huff. “Well, tell Mallory she can send help back here or help herself since it’s just me. If the customers complain, that’s for her to deal with.”

The rest of my shift is a fuzzy mess. I’m behind the entire time, flustered and confused by Sawyer’s actions. He’d clearly wanted me but told me to go. Was he fighting an attraction to me?

I prepare several orders improperly, and Mallory comes to the back.

“What’s wrong with you today?” she asks impatiently. “The food is taking forever, and you’ve gotten a couple of orders wrong.”

“I’m backed up from the bodyguards taking over the kitchen for a little bit,” I inform her. “I’m trying to catch up, but I really need an extra set of hands.”

“I don’t have anyone to send you,” she informs me, her hands on her hips. “We’ll just have to make do. Just try to pay closer attention to the orders, Ro.”

On my lunch break, I go to my car, turn off the radio, and sit in silence as I breathe in and out, trying to will my shaky nerves to calm. Mentally replaying my brief moment in the freezer with Sawyer, I attempt to decipher it again and again.

Chapter ten

Rosalie

ThenextdayI’mlounging in my pajamas, eating cold cereal and scrolling on social media. Andrea posted a picture of herself in Paris making a heart with her hands at the Eiffel Tower. She’s traveling with Leighanne, both off from the local college for the summer.

They had invited me, and I knew my parents would have allowed me to travel with them. I’d thought briefly about going, but I want to spend my precious few weeks left with Sawyer at home. Besides, I’ve already seen many of the places they’re traveling to.

I come skulking into the kitchen to help with supper at the usual time and find Mom hasn’t thawed any meat to prepare. “I thought we could all get out for a bit!” she tells me cheerily. “Someone’s been so mopey today. It’ll be good to get out of the house and do something other than work and watch YouTube.”

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