The Fundamental Theory of Us (10 page)

Chapter Fourteen

When she arrived at work with two minutes to spare, it seemed every student on campus had come in for lunch today. The cooler air made the café’s lunch special of a tomato and basil Panini paired with a bowl of creamy tomato soup for three bucks too good an offer to pass up.

Sawyer ran herself ragged, her muscles protesting every movement, wishing she hadn’t gone with Andrew and glad that she had at the same time. They had reached a level in their friendship—for lack of a better word.

By the time the lunch crowd cleared out, Sawyer was ready for a nap on the floor in the back. Those display cases weren’t going to fill themselves though. She and Rachel took turns in the kitchen pouring batches of muffins and brownies into tins and popping them in the ovens. The morning shift had run out and hadn’t gotten around to making more. Since it had been Vince and Abby on that shift, they probably spent more time making out than doing actual work.

Rachel leaned on the counter during a lull in customers—the first chance they’d had to talk without interruptions. “So, how was it?”

“I think my arms and legs are going to fall off.” Sawyer wobbled as she put a fresh tray of brownies in the display case. She told Rachel about the course, leaving out the conversation in Andrew’s truck after. That was too private.

“But did you like it?”

Sawyer paused, a smile curving her lips. “You know what? I did. I loved it.”

“See?” Rachel popped Sawyer on the nose. “I knew you guys were good together.”

“That’s not what I meant—”

“Yeah, yeah. But seriously. You’ve been a bitch since you guys stopped talking or whatever, and now you’re smiling. Actually, you’re glowing. And I
hate
that term. But you are. You look seriously happy.”

In spite of everything, Sawyer
felt
happy. Nothing could touch her.

“Anyway, look sharp, ‘cause here he comes.” Rachel motioned to the door just as the chime above it tinkled through the café.

Andrew walked in smooth and confident and looking sexy as hell, his hair still wet from his shower. He had swapped his workout gear for a blue knit sweater, making his eyes seem even bluer, and worn denim that hugged his muscular thighs. Why did he always look so good? Why did he have to be dating Emory?

He paused inside the door and pulled his phone from his pocket. A deep groove formed in his brow for a minute, then he shook his head and shoved his phone back in his pocket. He walked up to the counter and smiled, those too blue eyes locked on her. “Hi.”

She always thought he packed so much more into that one little word. “Hi.”

“How are you feeling after this morning?”

Sawyer’s face heated. He made it sound like they’d done something other than a crazy, hectic race. “Fine. My legs feel like they’re someone else’s though.”

His laughter burst sunbeams directly into her chest. “What are you doing for Thanksgiving?”

“Me?”

“Yeah.”

Sawyer blinked. “Uh, nothing.”

“What? Why nothing?”

“She’s staying in Boone,” Rachel piped in from across the café. “Boring, right? I tried to invite her to my place but—”

“You’re already taking Lola home. I’m sure your family would
love
having an extra wheel hovering around.” Sawyer shook her head. “I’ll be fine here. I can get ahead on some reading, clean my apartment.”

Rachel puffed out a breath and the tips of her purple bangs fluttered. “
Bor
-ring!”

“It does sound kind of boring,” Andrew agreed.

Sawyer shrugged. “It’s my life.”

“True.” Andrew took her hand, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. “Sometimes you need to turn life upside down. Come home with me.”

“Shouldn’t you be asking Emory?”

A confused look passed over his features. “Why would I ask her?”

“Aren’t you guys dating or something?”

Andrew stared at her. “No, we’re not. Why would you think that?”

“Never mind.” She tried to turn away. He kept his grip on her hand.

“Sawyer, I’m not seeing anyone. Emory offered to pair up with me for art, and since you stopped talking to me, I took her up on the offer. Nothing more.”

The room spun. Sawyer’s head spun. “B-but…”

He watched her, waiting. When she didn’t continue, Andrew leaned in, assaulting her senses with his warm, spicy scent. “There’s no one, Sawyer. Why would I leave gifts at your door if I was seeing someone else? Why would I worry about you all the time? Why would I dream about kissing you? There’s no one but you, and you can’t see it.”

The words repeated in her head.
No one but you. No one but you. No one but you
. “But, it’s too soon!”

“Too soon for what?”

Her cheeks burned. “For this.” She looked at their hands, his large palm holding her small pale hand. “I mean, we’re not dating. I’m not your girlfriend. Why ask me to come home with you? Meet your family?”

Andrew sandwiched her hand between both of his. “I’m not asking you to sleep with me. Just come with me.”

Her blush deepened at his suggestive words.

“Just think about it, okay?” Andrew pressed his hands together over hers and when he spoke, his voice was low, almost a whisper. “I’d really, really like it if you came with me, Sawyer.”

She squinted at him. “I’m … scared.”

“Of me?”

“No. Of what comes next.”

“So we take it one day at a time, and at a speed you’re comfortable with.”

She shook her head. “This is crazy.”

“Why?”

“Because—” She paused, knowing she’d just make an excuse. Like Alannah. Like her mother. Time for honesty. “I’ve never done this before.”

“Gone to someone’s place for Thanksgiving?”

Sawyer laughed and gave him a playful shove. The muscles under his sweater flexed at her touch. She left her hand on his chest. “No, not that. I mean, yes, but, that’s not what I’m talking about. I meant this. Us. And not because I couldn’t, I mean, I had plenty offers, but—” She bit her lip. “There are … things about me.”

“There’s things about me, too.”

“Yeah.” She glanced up, into his eyes, momentarily stunned by the fierceness in his gaze.

“There’s things about everyone, Sawyer. You need to make a choice. Do you let those things define you? Keep you in a bubble? Or do you step outside your comfort zone, take a risk?”

“Are
you
taking a risk?”

“A huge one,” he admitted, his voice rough. “The last time I did this, I ended up alone. I know you’re not like her. Does that mean it’s going to work out? Who knows? But with you, I want to try.”

His honesty touched her. Sawyer knew if she went down this road, she’d have to face things she didn’t want to. Walk down dark paths and stand in the shadows of things she’d rather forget. If Andrew made the effort, then she would too. Maybe the thing she was most afraid of was the one thing she should do.

“All right. I’ll come home with you. On one condition.”

“Name it.”

“Let’s always be honest. If it’s getting too much or too fast, I’ll tell you. And I want you to do the same.”

His eyes softened. “Of course.”

Now all she had to do was figure out a way to tell him the truth about
her
without driving him away.

Chapter Fifteen

“The point of this exercise is to get you thinking outside the realm of what you’re used to and see things in a new light. A sculpture, for instance, is made from shaping clay or using tools on stone or any other number of mediums.”

Professor Hyun paused, making sure his class was paying attention. “But what if, instead of trying to create something from that lump of clay or hunk of stone, you felt what was already there, and let that shape out? Think about it. We, as humans, are what we are. We all look the way we do, and without plastic surgery, we aren’t going to change much, aside from the aging process.”

Andrew had only signed up for Studio Art because he thought it would be an easy class. Wrong. Beside him, Sawyer sat with her attention glued to Hyun. A spark of something glittered in her gaze as she listened to the lecture. She curled her hair this morning, so her soft, blonde locks fell in glossy cascading waves down her back.

She put on her new shirt this morning, too. The green brought out honey tones in her eyes and gave her skin a little more warmth. They went shopping on the weekend. Andrew needed some new jeans and a warmer jacket, and Sawyer actually spent some of her money on clothes. If she noticed the money he slipped in her wallet, she didn’t say.

Andrew’s phone buzzed. Thinking it might be a text from his mom, he slid it into his lap and glanced down. Nope. Not Mom. Emory. Again.

Busy tonight? Thought we could work on our project and have dinner!

Andrew shoved his phone in his pocket without replying, and turned back to Professor Hyun.

“What I want from you is to come up with something that epitomizes the medium you choose, and it doesn’t have to be sculpture or any kind of mainstream art,” Professor Hyun continued. “I hate the phrase ‘think outside the box’, but I’m using it now. Try to see
around
things. If you’re going for a painting, paint the tree, but paint what you see all around the tree, and make that the focus. We know the tree is there, but so is everything else, and
that’s
what I want you to see.”

Class ended then, and Andrew waited for Sawyer to gather her things. Emory approached him, but he kept his eyes locked on Sawyer, and after a minute, Emory huffed and left the classroom. He and Sawyer both had a break before Fundamentals, which he actually understood now, thanks to her. He owed Sawyer more than she knew. He hadn’t had the nightmares since she came back into his life. He felt stronger with her, and not just in the physical sense. Like he’d gotten his shit together, all because of her.

She pulled her messenger bag over her shoulders and settled it low against her hip. The curve of her jeans over her ass drew his eyes there, and his jeans grew tight as he looked. Andrew snapped his gaze to the wall, covered in students’ artwork, some finished, others needing the final touches. He and Emory hadn’t finalized their project yet, though somehow, she convinced him to help her make some wood and metal thing. Emory liked making sculptures from recycled objects. Andrew wasn’t big on working with his hands like that. Clay, sure. Fixing up his house, definitely. Shoving rusted pipes through hunks of wood and spray painting it? Not so much.

“Ready?” Sawyer touched his arm, drawing his attention away from his thoughts.

“Yeah. What do you want to do?”

“Well, we have three hours. I thought maybe we could pack a lunch and take Rosie to this little pond I saw on Google Maps, if that sounds okay with you.”

He kissed her forehead, a natural action, even though he hadn’t tasted her lips yet. “Sounds perfect.”

She blushed and slid her hand in his. They walked to his truck in comfortable silence, listening to the chatter of students going to classes or lounging on the grounds. Rachel and Lola were leaning against the brick wall at the edge of the parking lot, so engrossed in one another they didn’t see Sawyer or Andrew. She opened her mouth but Andrew stopped her from saying anything.

“We probably shouldn’t interrupt them,” he whispered.

“I was just going to say hello.”

“Sure, but watch.”

Lola leaned her head down and captured Rachel’s lips in the kind of kiss Andrew wanted to lay on Sawyer. A second later, they were pretty much in their own bubble, a few layers of clothes away from going at it in the parking lot.

Pink streaks spread across Sawyer’s cheeks. “Oh.”

He laughed and pulled her against his truck. “Yeah, oh.”

Andrew pressed his hands on either side of her head, gauging her reaction. He could do it—he could kiss her. Bend his head, press his mouth to hers, get her taste on his tongue. He could. It would be so easy. Not yet. Whatever happened in Sawyer’s past, he needed to know more before bringing things to the next level. So Andrew touched his lips to her hairline, then her forehead, and the tip of her nose. A bubble of laughter rose up in her throat, and Andrew chuckled with her.

He reached for the door and pulled it open. She kept her pretty gaze glued to him as she slid into the passenger seat. She watched him walk around the truck and, when he got inside, she slid over into the middle and snapped her belt on. As he drove home, she rested her hand on his thigh. The heat from her fingers burned through his jeans.

Andrew followed Sawyer into her place and together they packed a couple sandwiches and some sodas. They stopped at his apartment and got Rosie, who wagged and jumped excitedly when she saw him grab the leash.

With her directions, he drove to the pond behind the Jim and Betty Smith Stadium that he and Rosie had already discovered during their early days in Boone, where willow branches hung low over brackish water fed by a small creek. They settled on a secluded area past a copse of evergreens that gave the air a light Christmassy scent. Andrew set out the blanket while Sawyer found a stick for Rosie and tossed it away. Rosie’s fur glinted in the sunlight as she ran after the stick. She didn’t bring it back straight away.

Andrew lay back on the blanket with his hands behind his head, enjoying the unseasonably warm weather and the view. Sawyer stood with her back to him, and he admired the way her jeans fit snug to the backs of her thighs. She’d gained a little weight in the last few weeks. Ever since he started eating at her place. She never complained about the extra food he put on her plate, and he was glad to see her filling out. There had also been fewer instances of bloodshot eyes and no extra bottles in the cupboard. Maybe they were chasing each other’s demons away.

Sawyer took out her phone and snapped a picture of Rosie as she ran with the stick in her mouth. Andrew liked to think Rosie might be smiling, the way she bared her teeth. He looked at Sawyer again, spending some time admiring her without her knowledge. Some girls wore a lot of makeup and it suited them. Some wore tighter clothes and, yep, they looked hot. Something about the way Sawyer carried herself, even when she hid behind layers of shapeless clothes, drew him to her. Emory threw herself at Andrew, but he wasn’t interested. Only Sawyer would do.

A moment later, Sawyer turned and smiled down at him. “What are you staring at?”

“You.”

“Why?”

“I like what I see.”

This won him a blush. “Well, maybe I’ll stare at you and see how you like it.”

“I think I’d like that a lot.”

He sat up, grabbed her hand, and tugged her down on his lap. Her eyes bulged at the feel of his erection, though she didn’t say anything. Neither did he. He wanted to kiss her mouth so hard she’d shake in his arms, but he didn’t want to scare her. He brushed his lips at her temple. Trailed light kisses down her cheek, coaxing her. He knew she wouldn’t take the initiative the first time. He’d have to do that. He could show her that she had nothing to fear with him. Even when he wanted her so badly his jeans were close to bursting and he might come right here and now with her heat so close to his hardness.

Rosie chose that moment to return with the stick. She nudged Sawyer’s arm with her nose until Sawyer took the stick and pushed up from Andrew’s lap. Missing the feel of her was instant and profound. There would be more time for that later. No rush.

While Sawyer tossed the stick for Rosie, who actually brought it back this time. Andrew set out their picnic and sat on the blanket with his legs stretched out. Whether she knew about his leg or not yet, he didn’t know. He had to tell her at some point. Maybe she figured he lost something after the IED struck his convoy, maybe she never picked up on the possibility. He told her most of the story, but not all.

Rosie ran off after a squirrel and Sawyer returned to the blanket, taking a seat next to him and accepting a sandwich. He loved her shy smile when their fingers brushed, and the way her blush deepened when he looked at her for more than a minute.

After lunch, they lay together, staring at the sky through the willow tree above. Andrew locked his fingers with Sawyer’s and shut his eyes. A perfect moment. If only he knew her thoughts. He could ask, though he doubted she’d admit them. Sawyer was the kind of person who took the cards she was dealt and held them so close, even she couldn’t see what was on them. It was almost like, if she peeked and saw they weren’t what she hoped for, her world would come crumbling down around her, and she didn’t know if she had anyone to ask for help. She could ask him, but he knew she wouldn’t. Sawyer handled things her own way.

That was before. Now, she had him in her life.