exits the car, gathers Lucy from the backseat and carries her up the walk. She’s sound asleep, her body dead weight in his arms and she rests her head on his shoulder. I stand, move ahead of him and open the main door.
As he passes, our gazes briefly meet, but I quickly glance away. He knows my secret, and I’m not okay with that. His car keys jingle as he tries to shift his sister and punch in the code to his apartment. Taking pity upon him, I ease past and enter Dad’s code to unlock the door.
Why he seems surprised, I don’t know. Technically, I’m more owner of this house than he is. Sawyer mumbles a thanks, and as I go to leave, he quietly says, “Will you stay?”
Seriously? Stay? No, I really don’t want to, but I guess it’s better that we get this conversation out of the way. “I’ll wait on the porch.”
“In here,” he whispers. “I can’t be far from Lucy. She’s been having nightmares.”
“You need to invite me in,” I say as dread fills my stomach.
“What?”
“I won’t come in unless you invite me.”
With an expression that screams he thinks I’m crazy, he says, “What are you? A vampire?”
“Maybe.”
He rolls his eyes. “You can come in, and when you do, hit a light for me?”
I enter first, flick the switch on the wall and notice the mounds of boxes lining the walls. It’s not at all homey, and I can see why Lucy has knocked on my door twice this week. Her brother and mother, though, called her away before I could let her in.
Sawyer goes into the front bedroom, the one with the turret, and I have no idea what to do with myself. The soft light flicks on in the room, and I’m drawn in by the pink tint. I bet Lucy’s room is cute yet instead of heading that way to find out, I peek into the kitchen in the back of the house. It, too, overflows with boxes, and then I wander to the other side of the house to where the bathroom and other bedroom is. That room is filled with lots of dress clothes hanging on portable racks and a huge sleigh bed with too many pillows. This must be where his mom is crashing.
I return to the living room and make the conclusion that the narrow room that lines the side of the house, the one originally built for a small library or office, is Sawyer’s. Inside is a mattress on the floor and an open suitcase of folded clothes—like he doesn’t believe he’ll be here longer than a week.
Murmurs from Lucy’s room, and I lean upon the arm of the couch, acting as if I’m not spying, but I am. A smile crosses my lips at the wonderland inside. Lucy has a canopy princess bed. The kind that nearly every little girl dreams of. Beautiful sheer and sparkly material hanging from pole to pole. Butterflies meander across her ceiling thanks to a rotating nightlight and there’s an entire zoo of stuffed animals in and surrounding Lucy’s bed.
Lucy’s like a limp rag doll as Sawyer helps her into bed. They’re saying prayers, both of them reciting something about God’s protection and then on to a list of people they want God to bless. He kisses her forehead and as he starts to pull away, she leans up and hugs him tight.
It’s a sweet sight, and I’m confused how this guy has the ability to act like a jerk at school yet be so loving to her. Not wanting him to know I was watching, I pretend to be staring at something fascinating on the floor.
Sawyer leaves Lucy’s door open a crack then turns to face me. “Sorry it took so long. She’s been having nightmares since moving in so I try to make bedtime as pleasant as possible in hopes it’ll help.”
“It’s okay.”
“Would you like something to drink?” He goes for the kitchen. “We don’t have much to choose from. We have milk, orange juice, Mom might have something diet in here and—”
“Did you tell your friends or anyone else about my brain tumor?” I cock a hip against the door frame of the kitchen as he opens the fridge. He stares into it longer than needed then shuts it.
“No.”
“Are you going to?”
He shakes his head then meets my eyes. “Not my news to tell.”
I should feel relieved, but I don’t. He could be lying to me now or