Forget You (22 page)

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Authors: Jennifer Snyder

Tags: #Romance, #emotional, #Series, #Contemporary Romance, #New Adult, #standalone, #companion sereies

BOOK: Forget You
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“Next.” Lauren pointed to Paige once Cameron
was finished. “And it will continue that way.”

This meant I would be going next.

Paige reached out, and flipped one of the two
beneath the top card Cameron had. A jack was what came up.

“That was the
never have I ever
card,”
Lauren reminded her. “Let’s hear something you’ve never done, and
make it a good one, please.”

My eyes flicked to Paige. Her cheeks were
tinted pink, and her eyebrows had drawn together in thought.

“Never have I ever…kissed a girl,” she said.
Her brown eyes trailed around the room. “I wanna get the guys
smashed first.” She grinned.

Since I’d most definitely done this before, I
put my drink to my lips, and took a swig. All of the guys took one
as well, along with Lauren.

“What? No way!” Ian shouted. “Pause the game,
I’ve gotta hear this story. Why didn’t I know this?”

Lauren puckered her lips together in what
seemed like an effort to keep a smile off her face. “It was in high
school. I was curious about what it would feel like, so my best
friend and I tried it out.” She shrugged, as if it were no big
deal.

“Interesting,” Ian muttered with a goofy
smile. “I think we’ll have to delve back into this with more detail
later on.”

“You’re up,” Eva reminded me.

Walking to the table, I flipped over the card
beside Paige’s and was glad to see something simple pop up—a ten of
spades.

“Waterfall!” Lauren shouted. “Everyone drink,
starting with you, Soldier Boy.”

Shaking my head, I smirked at her as I put my
glass to my lips again. The waterfall continued in Eva’s direction,
and traveled around the room.

“I was right. We’re all getting smashed
tonight!” Cameron shouted. “Thank you, Blaire and Jason, for
inviting us all to stay the damn night, because after this little
game, I don’t foresee any of us being able to walk, much less
drive.”

We all agreed with him as Eva walked up to
take her turn. She flipped over a black two, and then eyed everyone
down while we waited for her to decide whom she was giving the
drinks to.

“You and you,” she said, pointing to Cameron
and Lauren. “Because you two are the funniest when you’re shitty.
Merry Christmas.” She winked.

 

CHAPTER
TWENTY-FIVE

EVA

 

Never being one to sleep well after a night
of drinking, I was up around six the next morning, roaming around
Blaire’s kitchen. Coffee sounded good, but I wasn’t sure how to
work their fancy machine, so I settled for a glass of orange juice
instead. Lauren always swore drinking a glass of orange juice the
morning after heavy drinking helped to ease a hangover.

I was determined to test this theory.

Standing at the back door, looking out at the
foggy lake, I thought about last night. We’d made it only a quarter
of the way through the deck of cards during Lauren’s Christmas tree
game before everyone was smashed and ready to open up gifts. The
theme for this year had been
things we would use
. It had
been a secret Santa sort of thing, but we’d all bought something
for everyone and one major thing for the person we’d drawn. Blaire
had drawn my name, and gotten me a purple knitted scarf. It was
soft and warm. I loved it.

The best gift of the night though had been
Lauren’s to Paige. Hands down.

Before she handed it to Paige, she had
reminded us all of when she and Ian met, and how he’d stumbled
across her collection of vibrators beneath her bed. Paige had said
she’d never bought one for herself before, while we were all out
drinking at Shooters talking about it, and Lauren had made a
comment that she knew what she would be getting her for
Christmas.

Sure enough, when Paige opened the long,
slender box, there was a purple vibrator neatly tucked inside among
a sea of red and green tissue paper. If Paige hadn’t already been
so inebriated, she wouldn’t have taken the gift with such stride.
Her face would have gone through twenty shades of red, and she more
than likely would have gotten pissed at Cameron for the comment
he’d made about Blaire needing to point them in the direction of
their room for the night, because he planned to show her how to
work the thing.

It had been a good night, one I was glad to
have invited Sawyer to. He had clicked with everyone instantly, but
mostly with Jason. I figured it was because their personalities
were practically the same—both were laid back and casual. Once the
alcohol got a bigger grip on him though, Sawyer’s comical side
slipped out more and more throughout the night. Thinking back, I
could even pinpoint the moment when I knew him and Cameron were
going to become good friends.

Somehow, we’d gotten on the topic of panties
and lingerie—I was sure it was all the talk about dildos—and Sawyer
busted out with, “Panties, they’re not the best thing on earth, but
they’re next to it.” Everyone had died laughing, except Paige.
After Cameron explained it to her, because she didn’t get it, she
had finally joined in. Cameron had nodded in my direction, and I
knew he was happy for me and approved of Sawyer completely. I would
be lying if I said that his opinion in regards to Sawyer didn’t
matter, because it did.

Cameron’s opinion on things, even my love
interests, would always matter. He was like family to me.

“Morning, sunshine,” Cameron whispered from
behind me. I turned to face him at the sound of his voice. “Orange
juice, yuck. What, you couldn’t figure out the coffee maker?”

I pursed my lips together. “First off, you
know I don’t like your little pet names, and second, how the hell
do you know me so well?”

He grinned like a fool. “You didn’t seem to
mind someone’s little pet names for you last night. I figured you
might have just given up the aversion to them. Lastly, I know you
so well because you remind me of myself. I can’t even begin to
figure that damn coffee pot out either. Where are the
directions?”

“That’s why I went for the orange juice.” I
laughed. “Lauren says it’s a proven hangover cure. I’m hoping some
headache relief rests in the bottom of this glass, because I might
puke if I have to drink more than one of this tangy stuff.”

“I’ll wait until someone wakes up who can
work this thing.” He reached into the cabinet by the sink, and
pulled out a glass. I watched him as he filled it with water. “Last
night was a blast. I don’t think I’ve gotten that shitty in a
while.”

“I know.” I nodded. “Paige seemed pretty lit
when we all meandered off to bed too.”

Cameron ran a hand over his jaw. “She was. I
actually stayed up with her last night while she got sick in the
guest bathroom. She’s going to be a fun one to be around
today.”

“Thank goodness it’s Sunday, and her shop is
closed.” I smiled.

“Seriously.” He took a sip of water, and
leaned against the counter. His hazel eyes locked on me, and I knew
he was getting ready to get serious with me. “I really like Sawyer.
I know I don’t have a say in who you date or anything.” He paused,
and I rolled my eyes because I knew he would expect it.

“Not at all actually,” I added.


But
, I really like him, and I think
the two of you work well together.” Cameron inhaled and then
released his breath slowly, his eyes never dropping from mine in
the process. “You deserve to be happy, truly happy, Eva. I hope
Sawyer is the one who can give you that. He seems like a good
guy.”

“He is a good guy,” I insisted. My throat was
becoming dry, and my eyes a little misty. Cameron and I hardly ever
got sentimental like this. The few times over the years when we
had, I could count them all on one hand. Normally, we dealt with
the heavy stuff by tossing out cynical and sarcastic comments to
one another. “I really like him, Cam.”

“I can tell. I mean, Jesus, you must have
undressed him with your damn eyes seventy-five times last night
right in front of us all.” He grinned, tossing us right back to the
way we were, and letting the serious moment fly out the window.

This was why I loved him.

I shoved his arm playfully, and smiled wide.
“Like you have any room to talk, Mr.
Point-me-in-the-direction-of-the-guest-bedroom-so-I-can-show-her-how-to-work-this-thing.”

Cameron’s head came back, and he laughed. It
was rich and loud, something I was happy to hear. There had been a
time—almost two years ago now—when it could have been a sound I was
never able to hear again. Cameron had a dark past, but he’d pulled
through.

“Paige is probably going to be pissed about
that comment this morning.” I shook a finger at him.

“Nah, she’ll be fine.” He waved my words
away, and moved to stand beside me at the door overlooking the
lake. “Hell, she might not even remember it.”

“Oh, trust me, as soon as she remembers what
Lauren got her, she’ll remember it,” I said.

Bumping my shoulder into his, we lapsed into
a comfortable silence as we stared out at the fog slipping over the
icy lake water in the early morning light. The moment was peaceful
and perfect. Things in my life could not have felt any more
complete and wonderful. I sipped the remainder of my orange juice,
thinking of my friends—who I thought of as my family—and of Sawyer.
Definitely Sawyer.

 

* * * *

 

The scent of butter and melted cheese met my
nose, making my mouth water. I glanced over at Sawyer as he flipped
the sandwich in the pan, revealing the golden to perfection side
he’d just expertly cooked.

“So, what is it that has you believing
grilled cheese sandwiches are the final cure for a hangover?” I
asked. I swung my crossed ankles back and forth from where I sat,
perched up on the countertop beside where he cooked.

He’d woken around ten in the morning, and we
had decided to head to my place for a shower and something to eat.
Grilled cheese sandwiches to be exact. Sawyer was as sure on his
theory of a hangover cure as Lauren was about hers. The orange
juice trick of hers seemed to help some, but not as much as she had
insisted. At least not for me. I was hoping Sawyer’s theory would
be what knocked the remaining hints of drinking from last night out
of my system.

“It’s all in the cheese and butter.” He used
a spatula to press the sandwich flat in the pan. “The combination
of the thick cheese with the little bit of greasy butter makes your
stomach look the other way while the bread soaks up all the
alcohol, and eases the hangover away,” he said, as though it were a
scientifically proven process. I cracked up.

“Okay, I’ll try it out,” I said. “It does
make sense, somewhat.”

Sawyer placed the sandwiches on napkins, and
scooted one toward me.

“Enjoy,” he said.

After the first bite of gooey goodness, I was
hooked. I’d never tasted a grilled cheese sandwich so good.

“This is like heaven in my mouth,” I muttered
between bites.

Sawyer nodded his agreement. “I told you it
was the best hangover food ever invented. I don’t get too many
hangovers, but when I do, this is my go-to meal.”

“I will totally have to remember this.” I
took another bite.

“It’s all in the amount of butter, and the
two slices of cheese,” he reminded me. “That’s all there is to
making the perfect grilled cheese.”

“Where did you learn how to make them like
this?” I asked around another mouthful of the gooey goodness.

“My brother,” he said. “Ryker was the grilled
cheese master.”

A small smile crept along his face at either
the memory of his brother or the thought of the first time he’d
learned this secret. I couldn’t be sure which. Either way, it was
nice to see him smile while talking about his brother. Every time
Ryker was mentioned, Sawyer seemed to shut down and allow his
misery from his brother’s death to drown him. Maybe he was finally
beginning to accept things in a new, better way. I was happy to be
there to witness it all happen.

“Are you ready for a shower?” I crumpled my
napkin up and tossed it into the trash from where I sat.

“Nice shot,” he complimented me. “Dang, did
you breathe while eating that thing?”

I laughed. “What? I was starved!”

His phone rang from somewhere in my living
room. Setting his sandwich down on the counter, he went to answer
it.

“Don’t even think about eating mine. I see
that look in your eyes,” he called over his shoulder in a teasing
tone.

“No way. I’m full.”

Slipping off the counter, I grabbed a glass
from the cabinet, and poured some water while listening to Sawyer’s
one-sided conversation.

“Yes, sir,” he said. “I understand, sir.”

My heart sank. It was his commanding officer.
I prayed he wasn’t about to be sent somewhere again. Was this
normal? Was this what I had to look forward to every few weeks, him
being sent away to do National Guard stuff?

“Yes, sir, bright and early,” I heard him
say.

Turning to face him, I leaned against the
counter and sipped my water. His eyes shifted to mine, and in them,
all I saw reflected was worry.

“Thank you, sir,” he said, just before
hanging up.

Sawyer tossed his phone down on my couch, and
ran a hand over the scruff along his jaw. The air in my apartment
grew tense and thick. He was being sent somewhere, I knew it, and
from the looks of it, he wasn’t too happy as to where. My pulse
raced while I waited for him to speak.

“I’m being sent out again. This time overseas
to an undisclosed location,” he finally said.

I hesitated in responding, because I wanted
to see if he would say anything more. When he didn’t, I pressed the
issue a little further. “Okay, when?”

“Two days.” he said. “There was some talk
about us all being sent out when I was still studying in AIT, but
none of us ever thought it would actually happen. I guess it is
though.”

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