Southern Seduction (121 page)

Taking a swig of my drink, I decide that I like this girl, and it’s definitely a good thing to have an ally in Cheyenne’s best friend. “So should I call you Cori or the Love Guru?” I ask, wincing at my lame joke the moment it escapes my lips.

She laughs and then pulls out a business card from her wallet. I read the card and then look at her.

“Seriously? You’re a relationship advice blogger?”

“Absolutely. Check out the site. There might just be something there that interests you,” she says, trailing off as the other two come back to join us.

“How was the shot?” I ask, and Cheyenne winces.

“He made me take Jäger. I frickin’ hate Jäger,” she complains, her drawl getting a little more pronounced the more she drinks.

“I remember how much you hate black licorice, so I can’t imagine Jäger would be your drink of choice,” I tell her, and her eyes widen.

“You remember a lot,” she says, her eyes a little glossy as she leans across the table, getting a little closer to me.

Reaching over, I brush her loose bangs back behind her ear. “How many times do I have to tell you, pretty girl? I remember everything.”

I’m about three seconds away from kissing her when I hear a throat clear. She pulls away from me suddenly, looking sheepish when she sees Bryan’s scowl. Before either of us can say anything, Cori scoots her chair back and stands.

“Come on, Bryan. The DJ just started and I need to shake my ass,” she says, pulling him out of his seat, not allowing him to protest.

Cheyenne watches them go, and I decided that I’ve wasted too much time already. Getting up from my chair, I round the table and sit in the seat sideways next to hers so I’m facing her. She turns towards me, and I grab ahold of her chair and pull it closer until she’s only a few inches away from me. Her eyes linger on my lips, and when she licks her own, it takes everything in me not to kiss her right here. I know that’s dangerous though—in more ways than one. Instead, I lean in and whisper in her ear.

“I swear to you, pretty girl, I remember everything,” I repeat. “And I’m going to make damn well sure that you do, too.”

Cheyenne

Sawyer’s words wash over me and it’s all I can do not to throw my arms around him and tell him that I do remember. I’ve always remembered. I guess I shouldn’t be so surprised that he thinks I’ve forgotten it all with the way I left, but the truth is that for a long time I dreamt of nothing but Sawyer, Shiloh Grove, and two swallows. Getting that tattoo reminded me every single day of what I let go, who I left behind. I’ve often wondered in the back of my mind if that swallow represented me or him. That deep down, some part of me knew we’d find our way back to each other.

Over the past two months, I’ve tried my hardest to fight this attraction, to resist the once dormant feelings that have threatened to surface, and I know he’s been doing the same, even though I have no idea why he’d ever give me another chance after the way I left him. With sudden clarity, I finally know why I left without seeing him one last time. If I had, I don’t think I would’ve ever been able to walk away. Instead, I took the cowardly way out and ran.

This week has been the most tense-filled one since I stared working at Wellsley. After he caught me in my lie to Ms. Kensington, he left me reeling. The rest of the week I felt like I was walking on eggshells. Any time he tried to get personal, I made some excuse to change the subject or leave the room, and frankly, it’s been exhausting. I know I’m wearing down, and this closeness is going to break me—sooner rather than later.

“Cheyenne,” he says softly, interrupting my thoughts. His hands land on my thighs as his thumbs rub circles on my jeans.

A shiver runs down my spine, and when I see him lean in, part of me prays that he’s going to kiss me. It’s been seven long, tortuous days since his lips were on mine, and I’ve been missing them every day since.

He bypasses my lips and places them just above my ear. “Don’t run from me, Cheyenne,” he whispers gruffly, and it’s uncanny how well he can still read me. While part of me was hoping for a kiss, the other half was prepared to jump up and run to the bathroom.

Pulling back, he takes one hand off my leg and places it on the table. He downs the rest of his drink, which, on his breath, smells like whiskey, and so many memories come rushing back in. As I take a sip of my own cocktail, my eyes meet his, and the softness in them has me finally relenting. I’m not even sure what this means for us.

“I don’t plan on it,” I admit, watching as relief floods in his face. “I know you might not believe this, but I remember all of it, too.” If I didn’t have these damn boots on, I’d be showing him my tattoo in intricate detail as some sort of proof, but I’ll have to wait for another day.

As he leans back, he rewards me with a sexy, heart-stopping smile. He changes the subject, surprising me. “So tell me about your roommates,” he requests, and I do, slightly thankful for the emotional reprieve.

I tell him all about how Cori and I met when we were assigned to be roommates. He laughs when I tell him about the day we met Bryan. When I mention their love/hate relationship, he simply nods, and I wonder if he’s still as observant as he used to be. He seems to get the hint that I think they would be perfect together, and I swear I see that same look of relief on his face again.

“Sounds like college was a great time for you,” he comments almost wistfully.

“To be honest, I was lucky I had them or else I would’ve been a complete hermit. I was so nervous about losing my scholarship that I mostly focused on school and my internship. They were lucky to get me to go out at least a couple of times a month, but fortunately they both were also great study partners. I really won the lottery when I found those two at Berkeley,” I tell him, and I think he understands, knowing my history.

“I glad you had those two. I worried about you being all alone out there, and Sylvia wouldn’t give me your info after you turned off your phone.”

I wince, remembering how hard it was to change my number when I got to Berkeley, and once again, I feel like a complete jerk and wonder how he can even stand to talk to me.

“I even tried to get Dad to at least get her to tell you to call me, but she refused. I kind of panicked a little bit and almost caught a flight out there, figuring I could stalk all the freshman dorms, but then one night by the lake I was re-reading your letter and I realized I needed to respect your wishes,” he admits.

I’m floored, and I wonder what I would’ve done if he’d have shown up. “She wouldn’t tell you where I was?” I ask, incredulous, but then again, I shouldn’t be surprised. She’d have done anything to keep her new perfect husband, so keeping space between Sawyer and me was high on her list.

He nods, and I sit back in my chair. “Yeah, and I even begged just to be able to write a letter, a response to yours, but she wouldn’t give me anything.”

I grab his hands, immediately loving the feel of his warm skin on mine.

“I’m sorry, Sawyer,” I tell him, knowing it’s not enough. “I did everything so wrong back then.”

His thumb rubs the top of my hand, and his eyes soften as he stops me. “Not tonight, Cheyenne. Every time we talk about the past, you shut down on me. Tonight let’s just forget all that. This is about us getting to know each other again without all that baggage. Sound okay to you?”

I grin and answer honestly. “That sounds amazing.”

The night continues with a comfort level I haven’t felt with a man in years. Cori and Bryan join us at the table from time to time, but I notice they’ve been spending most of the night on the dance floor together. Cori usually finds random dance partners, so I’m pretty sure she’s hanging out with Bryan for my benefit. I just hope she’s not giving him the wrong impression. Who knows? Maybe being so close to him for so long will finally help open her eyes.

“Have you seen Sylvia?” Sawyer asks, surprising me since he’d said earlier that he didn’t want to talk about the past, but then again, it had to come up sometime.

Shaking my head, I finish off my drink before I answer. “I haven’t heard from her in a while, and all our contact usually starts with a phone call from her. I assume nothing exciting’s happened or else I’d have heard about it by now.”

It’s true. Maybe I’m a terrible daughter, but I think we’ve both resigned ourselves to the fact that we’ll never have a normal relationship. Well, I think she’s resigned herself to it. I just lost hope that I’d ever have a mother who cares more about her daughter than her status or the size of her bank account.

“I haven’t been to Dad’s since you started at Wellsley. I know they went to Tahoe for a while after the holidays. I don’t think they’re back yet.”

A thought suddenly crosses my mind. “Hey, you haven’t mentioned my being here, have you? I mean, if you have, that’s okay. I just want to be prepared.”

The waitress interrupts us mid-conversation. “Another round, you two?”

We both nod, and she grabs our empty glasses. “Whiskey and lemonade, right?” she asks me, and I can feel my cheeks flush as I tell her yes.

Looking over at Sawyer, I can see that he’s grinning. “Is it as good as Wyatt’s?”

I shake my head. “Absolutely not. Nothing is, and believe me, I’ve been trying to find the perfect blend and I haven’t been able to. I don’t know why. I guess it just stuck with me, and I’ve never been able to find anything better.” At this point, I have no idea if I’m still talking about the drink or something much bigger, but I decide not to dwell on it.

“He’ll be happy to hear it. You should come see him sometime. I try to go to Shiloh Grove at least once a month. He’d love to see you back on the farm,” he says.

Honestly, as much as the thought of setting foot in Shiloh Grove terrifies me, I would really love to see Wyatt again. The last time I saw him was hard, and even though he knew I was leaving, he kept my secret, even if it ended up hurting his nephew.

“I’ll think about it,” I reply, taking a long drink once the waitress sets it down in front of me.

“Okay, I promise I won’t push, but I’ll let you know next time I’m headed that way. Oh, and about your mom. No, I haven’t said a word. I’m sure Dad has no idea since he’s retired. I won’t say anything, but if and when you’re ready, I’ll be right there with you if you want me.”

I can’t help the laugh that escapes my lips. “Oh yeah, the four of us together again. I’m sure that’d be quite a scene,” I say, clucking my tongue.

He frowns but quickly masks it with a forced smile. Draining the rest of my drink in just a couple of gulps, I realize I’m starting to feel tipsy, probably because I haven’t eaten anything since lunch. I stand up and hold my hand out, ready to forget all about our parents.

“Come on, city boy. Why don’t you show me your moves?”

Grinning, he takes my hand and leads me to the dance floor. My heart races in anticipation of him pressed up behind me, and for the first time in a very long time, I feel happy and content, and more than ready to let the past go.

Sawyer

Cheyenne opening up to me, even just the little bit that she did, was more than I could have expected. When she told me she remembered it all, I knew she was telling the truth. I could see it in her eyes, and for the first time, I honestly believed that she and I have a chance to figure all this out. As much as I wanted to get down to the bottom of things, I knew I couldn’t push her. I was more than okay with having just casual conversation tonight. It wasn’t until the waitress confirmed her drink order of whiskey and lemonade that I realized just how much she really does remember from that summer.