For Seven Nights Only - Sarah Ballance Page 0,54

if she knew he was near. Which meant he had no idea if the show she was putting on was for him or for the asshat who had his hands in all the wrong places. Sawyer knew how those moves translated to the bedroom, so he couldn’t blame the guy, but that didn’t make him any less inclined to punch him in the face.

Fortunately, he didn’t have to. The song ended, and apparently whatever expression Sawyer wore was enough to make a claim, because the guy split. And before Sawyer could blink, some other guy was talking to her.

Fuck. On the cusp of breaking in and raising hell, Sawyer took a step back. And then another. And then he just watched her move, and he remembered when she was his.

Two damned days ago.

It felt like no time. It felt like forever.

It felt utterly fucking wrong.

Her moves now didn’t rival what she’d done to him their first night there, and that gave him a jolt of satisfaction that should have shamed him, but it didn’t. Instead, he saw her curves and the tease of her dress—a new one, he was pretty sure—and that took him back to the warmth of her skin. To the heat in her eyes when he’d spun her around and held her. She wasn’t wearing her glasses now, and to his surprise he kind of missed them. He missed her. He’d been the luckiest guy in the room, and he couldn’t offer her a thing. Because as much as he wanted to grab her, kiss her, and say he wanted all of his one-night stands to be with her, he couldn’t. He couldn’t steal this chance from her.

He didn’t know this new and unfamiliar side of himself. He didn’t know what it meant, or who he was. Just that loving her was a promise he couldn’t make.

And she deserved more.

So much for his plan to avoid getting hurt. She wasn’t even his girl, and losing her hurt like a bitch. Which meant he’d either been right about her deserving a better man or really fucking wrong about giving her up. But the result was the same.

He hit the bar and made sure his tab was clear, then—with a distant, dismissive nod to his bewildered brother—gave the area in which he’d last seen Kelsie a wide berth. Maybe she was having fun.

Maybe he’d just go home and drink.

Which was precisely what he was doing when someone buzzed his apartment an hour later. He ignored it. Ever since Kelsie had all but thrown him out of her apartment, he’d been mad at the world. He managed to get his work done without scaring the customers, but he’d blown off everyone else. Almost. He’d spoken to Liam, hoping he’d spread the word that he didn’t need an intervention, all the while grateful Crosby was too busy building a new home and business with Estelle to ride him about his attitude. And Ethan he’d just dodged, because he didn’t need to hear his sanctimonious shit. Tonight had been a mistake—no second opinion needed.

The buzzing didn’t go away, but Sawyer did his best to ignore it. After a good ten minutes, the noise stopped, only to be replaced moments later by a knock on the door. That, too, went unanswered. At least it did until the door swung open.

Ethan walked in, shutting the door behind himself like he planned to stay.

Sawyer glanced up, then quickly averted his eyes. “Who let you in the building?”

“Some woman on her way out.”

Sawyer rolled his eyes. Not a good idea when you’ve downed half a twelve-pack, but Ethan didn’t need to know that, either. The couple he’d had at the club were evidence enough. “Well, that clears it up.”

Ethan shot him a look. “It wasn’t Kelsie, so what do you care?”

“Point taken. Also, you’re an asshole.”

“Says the guy who dragged me to that stupid club then left me there. Thank you for that, by the way. Now when are you going to get off your ass and fix this thing with her?”

“When I run out of beer.” Sawyer swirled the liquid in the bottle, then held it up to the light. Almost down to suds. “And when she runs out of other guys to dance with.”

Ethan snatched the bottle out of Sawyer’s hand. “Consider yourself out.”

“Christ, man.” Sawyer snapped down the recliner’s leg rest, his every intention to stand up to his brother. But gravity shifted, so he thought better of that plan. Instead he glared.