Silver Heart (6 page)

“Because he looked like he was about to throw himself on the ground and grovel at my feet,” he replied. “I never left our past behind.” Massaging away the tension in his jaw, he lowered his voice and added, “I could never leave you behind.”

I couldn’t either. Sawyer had been embedded into every one of my thoughts since the moment he’d entered into my “perfect life”. Many of my favorite memories were centered around him. But he’d also claimed some of my most painful ones.

We had met when I was seven and he nine. After seeing him around the neighborhood a few times, I introduced him to Adam and the two of them became fast friends. My parents disapproved of Sawyer’s family and were very vocal about their displeasure that Adam and I were associating ourselves with him. As if a little kid had any power over being born to an abusive father and an absent mother.

“What kind of mother leaves a little boy to look after his baby sister while she’s away at work?” my father would ask.

“The kind that has to hold two jobs to make ends meet while the father is in and out of jail,” my mother would reply with a headshake. The remarks would always be delivered in their most pitying tones and accompanied by deep sighs.

After Adam began hanging out with Sawyer, my parents had started to see him as a “foster project” of sorts. They enjoyed bragging to their friends that they took a kid from a broken family who didn’t even have proper winter boots to Aspen for the weekend to show him what “real life” was all about.

While my parents had allowed him to enter our family, my mother had been clear that she didn’t want him around her “perfect daughter” for fear that his unfortunate circumstances would somehow corrupt me.

This only intensified my interest in Sawyer and urged me to find ways to develop our friendship behind my mother’s back. Aside from Maddie, who often traveled abroad with her family for months at a time, he was my only
real
friend. We were inseparable. That is, until tragedy struck and tore us apart.

Sawyer chuckled, shocking me out of the recollection. “Now
you’re
the one doing it.”

Perplexed, I glanced up. “Doing what?”

“One of your tells,” he said. “Whenever something’s on your mind—no matter how good or bad—you rub your collarbone. Right here.” He placed his palm across my collarbone, setting my skin on fire.

I held my breath in an attempt to hide the effect his touch had on me. “You said
one
of my tells. I have more?”

“You have many,” he replied. “When you’re nervous you try not to breathe.”

Shit
. I cleared my throat and took a deep breath. “Is that all?”

He shook his head. “Not quite.” He moved his hand from my collarbone to a loose curl partially covering my right eye. “You also wrap your index finger around this curl. Always this one.” He gently tugged at my hair, pulling my face closer to his. I was about to spontaneously combust.

“There can’t be any more.” I pouted. “I’m not that transparent, am I?”

“I just know you, Silver. And your love for assaulting your bottom lip.” Now the thumb that had previously grazed his lower lip was pressing against mine.

“I guess we have that in common,” I whispered.

“Except you do it with your teeth.” As he gently massaged the sensitive skin with the pad of his thumb, I had the sudden urge to take his finger into my mouth. I almost did, but he pulled his hand away.

In that moment—as I was trying not to rub my collarbone, hold my breath, touch my hair, or bite my lip—it suddenly dawned on me that Sawyer and I were completely alone.

At around two o’clock in the morning, Maddie had announced that she was going to pass out from both alcohol and tiredness. Adam, who’d looked like he was ready to leave the party hours before, had volunteered to take her home.

Wanting to see the end of the tournament—although I wasn’t playing, I’d been rooting for Sawyer’s shirt to come off all night—I left my best friend in the care of my brother. Since she was unable to walk to his bed without stumbling, I could rest assured that nothing was going to happen between them tonight. Maddie was smart about her rules and my brother was stupid when it came to women. My night, on the other hand, was still wide open.

“We never played our game of Strip Go Fish,” I joked, taking a tiny step forward. Knowing my luck with card games, I’d probably lose and still never get to see Sawyer with his shirt off.

He entwined his fingers through my hair and grinned. “The night is still young, Silver,” he said, bringing his face so close our lips were a breath away from touching. I closed my eyes and inhaled his cool, icy essence.

Oh, my God...

A loud crash forced my eyes to snap open. The banging on the front door was followed by loud stomping against the floor tiles.

“
Saaaawyer!
Whereeee are yoooou, babe?”
Mia
. A very shrill, extremely drunk Mia. The girl had earned herself a PhD at interrupting. All night, she’d chased after Sawyer, plunging herself between us any time we had tried to talk. Finally, after numerous attempts at ignoring her, Sawyer had pulled me to the pool house for some privacy.

“Hey, Mia,” we both greeted her at the same time.

She was only wearing her bra, panties, and knee-high boots. How she had managed to walk over without freezing to death was beyond me. It was probably the alcohol. The bigger mystery was—what had happened to her clothes? She hadn’t even participated in the strip poker tournament.

She came to a stop in front of us and glared at me through bleary eyes. “You’re here,” she slurred. “Why?”

“Going skinny-dipping,” I joked. From the corner of my eye, I could see Sawyer smirk.

“Not a bad idea,” he murmured in my ear.

“Ooooh, good! Let’s go.” In a blink of an eye, Mia moved to the edge of the pool and began to unclasp her neon pink bra.

Instantly, Sawyer was by her side. His hand grasped her wrist, and he pulled her fingers away. “You’re too drunk to go swimming right now.”

She turned toward him, pressing her breasts into his chest. “But I’m not too drunk to get naked.”

He took a slight step back and held her at arm’s length. “Where are your friends, Mia?”

“Hotel. Told them I was gonna spend the night...” she poked his chest, “…with youuuu.”

“Right.” He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “Let’s get you to bed then.”

My heart sank. Jealousy was a bitch and a half, but there was no way that I would ever compete against Mia. I had no doubt that I could win—at least if the challenge involved some class—but that contest wasn’t worth my time. If this was Sawyer’s type of girl, I was probably dodging a bullet. She’d been throwing her double D’s at him all night. I thought he wasn’t into her—he’d barely glanced her way—but I guess I was wrong.

Sawyer turned to me. “Are you tired?” he asked. “Do you want to hang out for a little bit longer?”

“Are you asking me to join in a threesome with one of your snow bunnies?” I snapped. “No thank you.”

His jaw dropped and his eyes crinkled with laughter. “I was actually inviting you to hang out in a twosome with me,” he said. “But I better make sure Mia gets home first.”

“Oh. Right.” Embarrassment didn’t even begin to describe the feeling I was currently experiencing.

“You haven’t changed one bit, Silver,” he chuckled.

Once again Mia chose this particular moment to interrupt. “Ugh,” she groaned, coughing. ”I think I’m gonna puke.”

“Wait for me?” Sawyer asked, trying to shuffle Mia toward the exit.

“I’ll try. But if you’re not back in five minutes I may head to bed with a sexy male snow bunny of my own,” I teased.

“I better hurry then,” he said over his shoulder.

As I watched him escort Mia out of the building, I couldn’t help but laugh. Even in her drunken haze, her hand somehow managed to slide down to his ass. Snow bunnies, much like the Energizer Bunny, just didn’t know when to quit.

I’d seen countless girls throw themselves at Sawyer over the years, but I was the first to
literally
throw my arms around his neck. I lowered myself on the edge of the pool and sank one foot into the warm water. Pulling my other knee toward my face, I rested my head against it, allowing the past to claim me.

I’m sitting at the top of a snowy hill with my forehead pressed into my knees. Kids of all ages run around me, laughing as they throw snowballs and screaming as they sled down the hill. I’m not playing with them. I’m too busy silently crying into the fabric of my snowsuit.

I’m cold. And tired. And my clothes are wet.

The February wind stings my ears. My babysitter Isabelle forgot to pack my hat before taking my big brother Adam and I to play on the hill near our house. I feel like my earlobes are going to turn into popsicles and fall off my face. Any second now…

But I’m not crying because I’m cold and wet.

I’m crying because Grandpa is gone. Two weeks ago he told me a story about it being his time. Stupid fate had to go and ruin everything.

I’m also crying because Adam won’t let me use his sled. He thinks he can hog it just because he’s nine and I’m only seven. I didn’t get a turn all day. It’s not even his sled. It’s Isabelle’s. Our parents think she’s teaching us to play the piano, but her boyfriend lives nearby and she always takes us out to play on the hill while she talks to him.

That’s what she’s doing right now; she’s too busy giggling loudly and twirling her hair to pay any attention to me. She doesn’t know I’ve been sitting on the ground for an hour, missing Grandpa and not getting my turn to slide down the hill.

“Are you okay?” someone steps in front of me and blocks my view of Isabelle.

I lift my head and look up into a pair of bright green eyes. They belong to a boy with black hair and a big, goofy smile. I’m not sure why he’s smiling at someone who’s crying, but it’s kind of nice. My brother Adam never smiles.

“Do I look okay?” I grumble and go back to sulking into my knees.

“Where are your friends?” he asks. I hear the snow crunch as he sits down beside me.

“I don’t have any friends,” I tell him. “I was playing with a girl named Kylee, but she went to play with someone else when she saw I didn’t have a sled and couldn’t race.”

“Oh.” He’s quiet for a moment, then says, “Do you want to use mine? I have two.”

I look up, my eyes wide with excitement. “Two sleds?”

“Well, I have two of these…” He holds up what look to be two skateboard tops with wheels missing.

“Those aren’t sleds,” I huff. “They’re just boards.”

“They work just fine.” He holds out one of the planks to me. “Try this one.”

“What am I supposed to do with it?”

“I use it like a snow-skateboard.”

“You mean a snowboard?”

“I guess.” He shrugs and looks down at the ground. “My mom doesn’t have any money for a real snowboard right now. My dad went away on a trip last month, but she promised that he’ll buy us lots of things when he gets back. I’ll ask for a real snowboard then and my sister might get a piano.”

That’s when I notice the holes in the black hat. And the fact that he’s not wearing gloves.

We sit quietly for a long while. Finally, he nudges me and says, “We could race and pretend we’re snowboarding at the Olympics! Whoever wins gets a gold medal.”

“Fine,” I agree, brightening.

I take the board from him and stand on it. It slides away, pulling my feet out from under me. I end up falling on my butt and eating a mouthful of snow. But I’m no longer crying. In fact, I’m now laughing.

I like this boy—Sawyer. He’s my brother’s age, but he’s a lot nicer than Adam. He doesn’t treat me like I’m a little kid. He’s laughing too, but not at me. He’s laughing with me.

“Your ears are bright red.” He tugs at one of my popsicle earlobes, then takes off his hat and places it on my head. Even with all the holes, I feel a lot warmer right away. I slide off one of my gloves and hand it to him.

“We can share,” I say. “Olympic snowboarders need gloves.”

He pulls it on his left hand. “Thanks.”

We spend the rest of the afternoon sliding down the hill on the boards. I’m using it as a sled—there’s no way that I can stand on it the way Sawyer does. He’s so good; you’d think the skateboard top was a real snowboard! He wins every race.

“I don’t have any gold medals for you,” I tell him.

He places his gloveless hand under his cheek and looks to be deep in thought for a moment. “You said your name was Silver, right?”

I nod. I told Sawyer that my name was Silver Dylan instead of Dylan Silver. My brother and I are named after our parents’ fathers and kids at school tease me about that. I don’t want Sawyer to tease me. I like playing with him. “Yeah, my name is Silver.”

“Then you can be my silver medal. Put your hands around my neck,” he says as he tries to lift me up. We fall over into a snowy, laughing heap.

“A silver medal in snowboarding isn’t as good as a gold one,” I remind him.

“I know, but until I get a gold, you’ll have to do,” he replies. “Deal?”

“Deal!”

That day, I make my first friend—the only friend aside from Maddie that my parents haven’t forced onto me.

“Sorry about the wait.” Sawyer’s words lurched me back into the present. “Mia threw up all over my shoes. I almost considered not cleaning up and just running back to you, but I didn’t think you’d appreciate the smell of Bile Vodka Crans.” He stopped and cocked his head to the side. “What are you laughing at?”

I shook my head and smiled. “Never mind.” I’d been laughing at the silly memory of trying to hang myself around his scrawny neck like a medal. Fifteen years ago. An entire lifetime ago.