Page 108 of His Reckoning

I tilt my head slightly. “Were you waiting up for me?”

“No.”

“You were pacing.”

“I was walking.”

“Sounds like a lot of walking.”

His jaw tightens slightly. “Did he kiss you?”

The question is so direct that it catches me off guard.

I blink, then cross my arms. “Why do you care?”

“I asked a question.”

“And I asked one.”

The tension in the room thickens instantly.

Sawyer takes a step closer. “Did he?”

I shrug again. “Maybe.”

His eyes narrow slightly. “You’re lying.”

“That’s a confident answer.”

“You’d look different if he had.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Yes.”

“And how would I look?”

Sawyer studies my face for a long moment, then says quietly, “Less irritated.”

My mouth opens but closes again because, unfortunately, he might not be wrong.

Chapter Twenty

Sawyer

This has officially crossed into insanity. I’ve paced the length of the living room at least thirty times … possibly more. The hardwood floors probably have a permanent path worn into them by now.

I stop near the window, stare down at the city lights for a moment, then turn and walk back across the room again.

This is exactly why I avoid complicated situations. Because complicated situations lead to moments like this.

Moments where I’m irrationally irritated by the fact that Kayla is still out with some painter.

Theo.

The name alone is irritating.

I drag a hand through my hair and glance at the clock on the wall again—10:42.