Chapter Thirty Two
Alexa stirred the hashbrowns around the skillet and turned her attention to Sawyer. He sat at the kitchen table with the newspaper sprawled out in front of him. Whatever article he was reading had him transfixed.
He wore only his pajama pants which showed off the top half of his body. Dog tags hung around his neck and settled at the skin near the base of his chest which reminded her of toasted marshmallows. His teeth caught his bottom lip, which he chewed as he read and Alexa brought her hands to her own lips, recalling how he’d kissed her the night before once the lights were off. How he’d somehow claimed her with his kiss. It was demanding, passionate and consuming and like nothing she’d ever felt before.
She opened the oven which was set to warm and slid the skillet in beside the bacon and sausage she’d cooked already. Sawyer shifted in the chair and his knee began to shake. She watched his legs and remembered how he’d used them to carry her to his room and set her down.
She walked to the fridge in search of green onion for garnish and peered over the door. He still had his eyes on the paper but he used one of his free hands to brush back his own hair. She could almost close her eyes and feel those hands on her skin again. The gentle way he’d touched her. He’d shown her a small part of what she’d been hoping for without compromising what he insisted was her virtue.
She began to chop the onions and an audible sigh escaped from her lips. She couldn’t help herself as the fondness of the memories of just a few hours before enveloped her. She moved the knife up and down methodically, dicing the onion in fine pieces as two warm hands slid around her waist from behind. “That’s a pretty big smile you got on your face, sugar. You thinking about last night?”
Alexa nodded and continued to cut, trying to ignore the fact that he was able to make her weak in the knees.
“Me too,” he said.
“You were not. You were reading the paper,” she pointed out.
“I was half readin’ the paper, half thinking about how much I’d like to do that again.”
“How much you’d like to do that again?” She fixed her gaze on the cutting board, “if I recall correctly, I’m the one who should want to do that again.”
Sawyer’s hands brushed her hair over her shoulder and his lips touched her neck. “Tell Gabby you want to spend the rest of your summer with me,” he said. “We only have a week.”
The knife, which up until now moved up and down with vigor froze but not before slicing Alexa’s fingertip. She sucked in a startled breath and brought her finger to her mouth and tried to downplay the tears that quickly filled her eyes at the terrible realization that it might be over soon. “Ouch.”
Was the kitchen bloody cursed? Every time a girl tried to make breakfast in it, it ended badly. First Devin’s burnt palm and now Alexa was trying to lose a fingertip. Sawyer placed his hands on her shoulders and spun her around to face him.
Her expression was still mid wince and her eyes filled with moisture. When he pulled her finger away from her mouth to inspect the damage, he doubted the tears were a direct result of the knife wound and guessed they were more likely a result of his stupid mouth pointing out the obvious—even when it was painful to think about.
He felt like crap as he led her to the bathroom wordlessly. With her finger pinched in his, he started the tap and held her hand under the water, while rooting through the cabinet for the first aid kit he knew Lane stocked in there. Once he was successful at locating the kit, he stopped the water and unscrewed the cap to the hydrogen peroxide.
