Page 35 of Embracing the Beat
“Sawyer’s on a job right now.”
“What? How do you know?”
“He called me last week to tell me he was going to be hard to get a hold of. Otherwise, we talk a few times a week.”
I deflate as my plan to avoid West-sized temptation goes up in smoke. Shit. But maybe—
“Any chance you have a key to his apartment?”
Sawyer wouldn’t mind if I showed up and let myself in, right?
Sawyer, who still has a “Keep Out” sign on his bedroom door here. Sawyer, who is the most private person I’ve ever met. It’s great for his security job. Not so much for a little sister who could use a place to crash for a few weeks.
“No, why would I? He lives in California. I live here.”
“Just figured I would ask.”
“Why?” The intensity of his stare makes me feel like I’m sitting in an interrogation room under a bright spotlight. I want to confess all my crimes.
“If you did, I was going to borrow it,” I say, and he arches a brow. “I thought about staying with him while I wait for a friend to get back from location.”
“What friend?” His nostrils flare, and his chest expands. I shouldn’t love that his reaction smacks of jealousy.
But I do.
“Jealous?” I ask, hope stupidly building in my chest.
“Concerned.”
“Oh.”
“What friend?” he repeats.
“My friend Mia. She said I could stay with her in California, but she’s filming a movie right now.”
“You need to go back out to California already?” I must be imagining the disappointment in his voice too.
“I don’t need to. But I thought it would be a good idea.” If the kitchen was awkward before, it has nothing on the discomfort created by the confusion on his face.
“Why?”
“You like that question a lot,” I retort.
He shrugs. “Intellectual curiosity. Why do you think it would be a good idea?”
I look everywhere but at him, finally fixing my stare on the lone blueberry left on my plate.
“Michaela?”
A shiver runs down my spine. The way his tongue wraps around my full name reminds me of the other night. When I was Michaela, not Mikey.
“Michaela.”
Looking up, I’m immediately held in the intensity of his gaze.
“Why do you think it would be a good idea?” he asks.
“I haven’t forgotten the question,” I snap.
