Page 66 of The Inevitable Us

Looking at the clock, I see it’s the wee hours of the morning. He’s still technically working. “Sawyer, baby, aren’t you working?”

“Sent Laighton to the main house to watch the cameras there. Told him I thought there was an issue we have to work out. I need to fuck you.”

He’s undressed completely and is laying on his side next to me, his right hand fingering me while I lay on my back. Once I’m ready for him, he moves between my legs and enters me. “Mine,” he growls with a thrust.

“Tell me, Rosalie, whose cock makes you come,” he asks me breathlessly.

“Yours, Sawyer, only ever yours,” I answer.

My body feels the tingling of my orgasm, my toes curling, and I welcome it.

Sawyer pulls out and comes on my stomach, smearing the cum on my belly. He’s marking me again. As if he’d ever have to. We belonged to one another long before either of us knew it.

“Howmanyt-shirtsdoyou have?” I ask when I find another bag of worn t-shirts in Sawyer’s storage space.

“They’re keepsakes,” he confesses. “They’re all from high school and training camps in the Army. Old PT shirts, unit shirts, and such. Don’t want to throw them away. My mom said she’d make a quilt with them all for me when she retires.”

We’ve spent the last hour deciding what to donate and keep in Sawyer’s rented storage space.

“I moved so quickly I’m afraid I didn’t go through things like I normally would,” he confesses when he fills up a black trash bag of things that weren’t suitable for donation. “I’m going to run this to the dumpster.”

Is he kidding? It’s all meticulous. Yes, some things are duplicates and need to be donated, but other than that, it’s all pretty tidy.

I open a small cardboard box and find an assortment of very familiar items. The first is a pasta necklace. I made it on the tour bus for Sawyer when I was in elementary school. Walking up to him when he was in the bus’ front lounge, I’d asked him what his favorite color was. “Blue,” he’d answered, smiling at me.

I’d used my best paints and brushes to color each tube of penne before stringing it on a piece of yarn. I remember it like it was yesterday.

When I’d crept into the front of the bus to give Sawyer my gift, Dad’s face had scrunched up, and he’d asked, “Where’s mine, Ro Ro? You know I like green.” Dad took me to the back of the bus after that, breaking my little moment with Sawyer. Looking back as Dad guided me towards the back of the bus where our family primarily lived, I saw Sawyer take off the necklace and slip it into his pocket with a small smile on his face. I smiled back at him, even though he couldn’t see. I’d loved having Sawyer’s eyes on me, if only for a moment.

There were other similar items given to Sawyer by me over the years. A birthday card I’d drawn with crayons made with construction paper, an embroidery thread bracelet I’d made on a road trip once. Opening up a tiny little folded piece of paper, I read the familiar words, “Thank you for making me feel safe today.” I’d slipped it into his hands after the scene at my dad’s retirement concert.

Fingering a smooth rock, I remembered the moment I’d given it to him. He’d saved them all, every last trinket. I feel the tears prickle my eyes as I tape up the box and mark it “extra delicate.”

Chapter thirty-four

Sawyer

MyeyesgotoRosalie, who’s skipping rocks on the river’s edge. She’s been acting strangely since the retirement concert as if it startled her somehow. When Tessa and Ethan noticed, they decided to take the weekend to go camping; get the kids away from everything for a while.

“Rosalie, watch out for the edge of the water,” Tessa lectures while assembling one of the three large tents with Brody and Ethan. “You’ll slip in those flip-flops. I told you to wear tennis shoes!”

I’d noticed already, which is why I keep a careful eye on her while I assemble my tent. Rosalie reaches down to pick up a new stone and skips it across the water.

She was in charge of carrying stuff from the car to the campsite. She’d made quick work of emptying the first car, freeing her to go play while Rory emptied the second. He’s still making slow, deliberate trips back and forth to the vehicle carrying food items and such.

“Stop it!” Josie whines to Nate. “Mom, Nate is hitting me on purpose with the rods!”

“You’re such a whiny little baby,” Nate accuses. “I didn’t even do it on purpose.”

“That’s enough,” Ethan commands them. “No more arguing.”

A moment passes of me nervously watching Rosalie in those damn flip-flops at the river’s edge, pretending to go through the motions of assembling the tent while my heart is in my throat watching Rosalie. “She’s going to slip,” I think again.

It’s not my place to say anything. Tessa and Ethan have both looked over and allowed her to continue after warning her again. I want to pick her up and move her away from the river’s edge.

I watch as she moves from one spot to another and leans down to pick up a rock. She looks back at me and smiles, rubbing the stone between her fingers, and pockets it. I shake my head warningly at her and give her a stern look.Be careful, Rosalie. She gives me a big grin and darts off to some other rocks.

When she goes into the river, it happens quickly. If I hadn’t been watching so closely, I wouldn’t have seen it, only heard the splash. I take off at full speed, jumping into the water fully dressed in tennis shoes and jeans still. She’s wearing pink, making her easy to find, grab, and bring back to the bank. She’s conscious, but shivering from the cold water and shock. “It’s ok, Little Miss,” I reassure her. “I have you.”

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