The Hookup Hoax (Entangled Lovestruck) Page 18

  “I should’ve listened to you. I should’ve known better than to get involved with a guy like him. I never meant to put myself through this again. But, he was just so…”

  “He’s just so dead,” Aidan said flatly.

  …

  Sawyer stretched out his hamstrings, groaning with the tension in his muscles. It was as if his body was rejecting him, too.

  A stab of pain pierced his chest for about the hundredth time. Maybe he was already in the thousands. He’d lost count somewhere around last Tuesday. Now he was numb most of the time.

  Focus. Stretch. Kick the ball. Kick some ass.

  Then go home. Alone.

  He pushed the negative thoughts from his mind as much as he could. They were still there, always there, lingering in the shadows, haunting his dreams.

  If he’d known back when this whole thing started that his life would end up a mess, vacant and void where it used to be full, he wondered if he’d still make the choice to get involved with Olivia. During the day he’d been able to keep busy and convince himself that no, given the choice, he wouldn’t go through this again. No woman was worth it. This experience with Olivia proved how much hurt came from relationships. At night, however, when he couldn’t keep himself distracted by work, she consumed his thoughts. His missed her scent, her laugh, her sarcastic teasing. He missed the tenderness in her eyes, the heat in her caress, and the passion in her kisses.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” Aidan asked.

  “Yoga. What does it look like?” If his so-called best friend wanted to get between him and his woman, then the gloves were off. Aidan should be his wingman right now, helping him get his girl back, not playing gatekeeper and stopping him from seeing her.

  “You sure you want to be here? I might accidentally kick the ball into your pretty-boy face. Then how will you get girls into your bed? ‘Cause it certainly won’t be your charming personality.”

  Sawyer sprang to his feet, getting in Aidan’s space. “Why don’t you ask your sister?”

  He barely saw the motion coming, and dodged to the left, but it was too late. Aidan’s fist clipped him on the jaw. Sharp stabs of pain radiated through his face and his eyes watered momentarily before he blinked them clear and lunged toward the attack instead of away. His shoulder crashed into Aidan’s ribs and together they went down hard on the artificial turf. He grunted when a shot connected with his kidney.

  From somewhere in the distance, voices yelled at them to stop or cheered at them to hit harder—he couldn’t tell. The only thing he could focus on was Aidan’s face, and taking out his frustration.

  He threw a fist and felt it collide with bone, but without the crunch of breaking. As another hit slammed into the side of his head, making his ear ring loudly, arms pulled on his shoulders, separating him from his target. Breaking free, he scrambled to get in another shot.

  “Why did you do it? Why did you have to screw with her?” Aidan asked as he came at him again, a whirlwind of blows landing along his ribs.

  “She wanted me as much as I wanted her. Deal with it.”

  “You think you can use her like some chick from the bar and I’m going to deal with it?”

  “I didn’t use her and I would never think of her that way.”

  “Like hell you didn’t.” His friend pulled his fist back, ready to pulverize him again. “Then why, you son of a bitch? Why couldn’t you stay away from her?”

  “Because I fucking love her, okay?” Sawyer shot back, bracing for the punch, but as soon as the admission left his lips, his body went weak.

  Aidan was pulled off him and a second later Sawyer was dragged to his feet. He had no strength left to fight back. Confusion flashed across Aidan’s eyes.

  “Enough!” shouted Jason, coming between them. “If you have issues with each other, take them off the field.”

  Sawyer pulled free and tugged his shirt back into place. He focused on his team captain, unable to look Aidan in the eye. “It’s over. Let’s get this game started.”

  “You’re out of the game. Both of you. I can’t let you take this shit out on the other team.”

  Sawyer sat on the bench with his head in his hands. What the hell had gotten into him? Years he’d been friends with Aidan, through girlfriend indiscretions, drunken mischief that almost got them expelled from college, and even a frat prank that could’ve landed them in jail, and never once had they ever gotten into a fist fight with each other. None of that had ever meant as much to him as losing Olivia.

  Fuck. I love her.

  But did he love the idea of a baby, too?

  Aidan flopped down onto the bench beside him, wincing. “Goddamn it. I’m too old for this shit.”

  Sawyer laughed, his anger long gone, replaced by a mixture of regret and rejection. And pain. He wasn’t bleeding anywhere he could see, but he’d definitely be bruised. Hopefully they’d all fade before the big birthday party in a couple of weeks. The last thing he needed to do was show up there not only alone, but beat to a pulp as well.

  “When did you get so good with your right hook?” he asked, rubbing a particularly tender spot along his jaw.

  “I don’t know. When did you fall in love with my sister?”

  “Fucked if I know.” He rolled his shoulders, cringing. What would he give for one of her massages now? “Listen, I didn’t mean to. It just sort of…happened. And I didn’t mean to sleep with her either. That just sort of happened, too.”

  “Oh yeah? You were walking along one day and slipped and found your dick somewhere it shouldn’t be?”

  “Something like that.” He laughed. If he could go back to that first night with her, he’d never leave the hotel room. “How is she?”

  Aidan sighed. “She’s a mess, thanks to you. I’ve never seen her like this before, even after everything that happened with Sam. This time is different. Worse. If you really love her, then you need to figure out a way to make this better.”

  “How can I? She won’t return my calls. Has she listened to any of my voicemails? Read the multiple emails I’ve sent? Texts? Anything?”

  “Not as far as I know.”

  “Then there’s not a lot I can do. I promise I’ll make this right if she gives me the chance. Get her to listen to my messages, okay?” He hated begging, but when it came to Olivia, he was willing to do whatever it took.

  “I’ll see what I can do, but she’s pretty stubborn.” Aidan dabbed at the blood trickling down his chin from his busted lip. “I better go put some ice on this. I have a big meeting tomorrow and I’ll have a hard time explaining why I look like I got in a bar brawl.”

  “Sorry. I mean it. For everything.”

  Aidan sighed, looking defeated. “If she decides to take you back, I’ll cease and desist on the ass kicking I owe you. But you better spend the rest of your life making her happy. If you’re lucky enough to get the chance.”

  “Deal.”

  He couldn’t let Olivia walk away without ever talking to her again. What would he do without her in his life? What would happen with the baby?

  These last few months had started out as a scam, but somewhere along the way, he’d gotten used to having her by his side. Now that she wasn’t anymore, his whole world had shifted and he didn’t see any way to get it back on track without her. Before, he couldn’t imagine a future with anyone, ever. Now, he couldn’t imagine a future without Olivia.

  Chapter Twenty

  Olivia glanced up at the sound of the key in the front door. Aidan was at a soccer game and not supposed to be home for another hour—exactly the reason she’d put on a chick flick while she had enough time to wallow alone in cheesy love story goodness.

  He walked into the apartment and casually tossed his keys onto the table, as if his face weren’t swollen and bruised. Springing from the couch, she went to his side.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Peachy.” Retrieving a bag of peas from the freezer, he pressed it to his cheekbone.

  “Seriou
sly, if you don’t tell me what happened, I’m going to add another bruise to your collection. Do I need to call the police?”

  She sat on the couch beside Aidan while the hero from the movie declared his undying love for the heroine, and how he’d been completely devoted to her for years even when she didn’t reciprocate.

  Yeah, right. Like that shit would ever happen in real life.

  Blinking back a fresh wave of tears, she clicked off the TV and tossed the remote.

  “You don’t need to call the police and I’m not interested in rehashing the story.”

  “Too bad. Spill it or I make you bleed again.”

  “I’d like to see you try,” he grumbled.

  She poked him in the side, playfully, but his faced scrunched up. “Oh, shit. Sorry.” Guilt instantly flooded her, followed by a hearty dose of anger at whoever had done this to him. “Did you even make it to your game?”

  “I made it onto the field and then was promptly sent home.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Seems fighting is prohibited in soccer. Shame too, since I’m pretty sure I was winning.”

  She laughed. “What did the other player do to make you fight him?”

  “Why don’t you call and ask him yourself?” Aidan groaned as he rolled up to his feet, heading toward the bedroom.

  Suspicion itched at the back of her brain as she followed him. “Who did you fight?”

  “Sawyer.”

  She sucked in a quick breath. If this was how bad her brother looked and he claimed he was winning, how bad did Sawyer look?

  It doesn’t matter. He deserved it.

  “Why?”

  “Why do you think?” He sank into his bed and pulled the covers up.

  “This wasn’t your fight.” She folded her arms across her chest.

  “Someone had to defend your honor.”

  “My honor didn’t need defending,” she said, her annoyance at the situation in general peaking.

  “If that’s how you really feel, then why haven’t you listened to his messages or returned his calls?”

  She stepped back into the hallway, distancing herself. “That’s none of your business.”

  He raised his head and peered at her with one eye slightly smaller than the other because of the swelling. A dark bruise had already formed on his cheekbone. “Apparently it is.”

  She started to close the door.

  “Olivia,” her brother called, stopping her.

  “What do you need?” It annoyed her that he had taken it upon himself to fight her battle, but she didn’t want to see him hurting either. “More ice? A pain killer?”

  “I need you to listen to his messages. I’ve never seen him like this before. He’s a mess. Because of you. Because of how he feels about you.” He cringed as he adjusted his position on the bed. “I would love nothing more than to pummel him again for the fact that he hurt you, but you’re hurting him, too. Just listen to what he has to say, then decide what you want.”

  He flopped back and she closed the door, ending their conversation. She didn’t want to talk to him about it anymore. Not when he blamed his actions on her.

  It wasn’t her fault two meatheads got in a fight, and it certainly wasn’t her fault that Sawyer was hurting. If he’d talked to her about the baby, about their relationship—fake relationship—and about the travel, none of this would have happened.

  Pushing the guilt aside, she made up the couch and flipped off all the lights except the one on the end table. Grabbing her phone, she flipped from one website to another, randomly reading half an article then getting bored and reading something else. Against her better judgment, she clicked on her text messages, ignoring all of the previous ones from Sawyer. She wasn’t ready to read them. Instead she typed the one thing she couldn’t get off her mind:

  Are you okay?

  She nibbled her bottom lip, waiting for his reply. Thoughts raced through her mind. Was Sawyer hurt badly? Did he get home okay? Did he have to go to the hospital? A moment later her phone vibrated.

  I’ll survive the bruises. My broken heart’s another story.

  Yeah, right.

  She wrote back quickly, hitting send before she thought it through. Getting into it with him was not her intension, now or ever. She’d simply wanted to make sure he wasn’t lying in a hospital room on her account.

  If you cared enough to check on me, then care enough to listen to the voicemails I left you. Please.

  She didn’t reply. Typing a response involved knowing what she wanted, which she had, an hour ago. She wasn’t so sure anymore. Seeing his name on the screen made her chest feel as if she’d been someone’s punching bag. Her heart ached with longing for him.

  Still there?

  Should she answer him or pretend she’d walked away from her phone, gone to sleep, anything?

  A moment later, a new text came through.

  There’s so much I need to say. So much you need to hear.

  I gotta go.

  She typed frantically as her vision blurred. Whatever he wanted to say, whatever he wanted her to hear, she wasn’t playing along. Couldn’t. Her heart was already broken by his rejection. Nothing he said now would heal it.

  Wait.

  Bye Sawyer.

  Olivia clutched her phone to her chest as tears streamed down her cheeks. Why had she initiated the conversation with him? What good would it do? Their agreement was over, null and void. He wouldn’t get the cabin, and she would never get a job reference. Basically they’d wasted two months of their lives for nothing but a couple romps in the sack and a whole lot of heartache.

  And a baby.

  But even as she thought it, she corrected herself. There was so much more to Sawyer than a good time in bed, although sex with him had been beyond fantastic. That wasn’t what she missed most, though. It was the late night TV and popcorn on the couch. Shared conversation on the commute to and from work. Laughing with his family while cuddling together in front of the campfire. Those were the things she’d long for.

  Her phone vibrated again, and she hesitated before flipping it over to read the message. It was simple—words she needed to hear but never thought she would. And yet, not at all the words she wanted to hear.

  I’m sorry.

  Forcing a hitched breath into her lungs, she went to voicemail. If he could apologize, then she could listen. Forty-seven messages waited for her. The man was nothing if not persistent.

  By message three, she knew one thing to be true—she’d grossly overreacted to the announcement that he had to travel. He’d done nothing wrong. This wasn’t his suggestion or his choice. He didn’t want to leave her and the baby behind. Marcus had made it a condition to the agreement. But that didn’t change the fact he was leaving her. She didn’t want a boyfriend, real or fake, who would come and go as the wind blew him. She wanted someone by her side, always. Maybe this trip for Marcus was temporary, but so was a future together, since nothing in his numerous voicemails led her to believe he’d changed his mind on the idea of commitment or bachelorhood.

  Sawyer still wanted right now. She still wanted forever. Even if she’d never get the forever she wanted, after listening to his voice she knew she had to try to get him the forever he wanted. And she knew exactly what to do.

  …

  Sawyer hated the antiseptic smell of the hospital, but holding the tiny, warm, eight-pound bundle of sweetness in his arms definitely helped to make the place less terrifying. He wasn’t a baby kind of guy, but this one didn’t completely send him running for the hills either. Maybe it was because the child was his niece. His family. Or maybe it was because she was only a few hours old and couldn’t do anything but open her eyes for a few seconds at a time and make the world’s softest cooing noises. How could anyone not like that?

  Surely it had nothing to do with him becoming a pathetic, heartbroken ball of mush since he’d fallen in love with Olivia and subsequently lost her forever. It absolutely had nothing to do with the fact that
there was a little mound of sweetness growing inside of Olivia either. One he’d helped create.

  The pain of his bruised face had almost completely disappeared the second he’d seen her name pop up on his phone after his fight with Aidan. He’d even convinced himself she would listen to his messages and come running back to him, but it had been a week and nothing. No more texts. Not a single call. Nada.

  “Where’s Olivia?” Gran asked.

  Should he tell them the truth or hold off a little longer and pray she came back to him before the birthday party next week?

  “She woke up with a scratchy throat and didn’t want to risk passing anything on to the baby,” he said. It was the first excuse he could think of that would be accepted without hesitation. “She’ll come by and see Misha as soon as she’s feeling better.”

  The baby opened her mouth in a big yawn then smacked her lips together, wiggling in his arms. “She’s doing something. I don’t know what. Want her back?” he asked. He was comfortable holding the baby for a few minutes, but if she needed anything besides a comfy arm to curl up in, then she needed her mom.

  “Hopefully Olivia will be feeling better in time for the party,” Gran said.

  That could be a viable excuse if needed.

  “I hope so too. I know she’s been looking forward to another weekend at the cabin.”

  “I’m sure she is,” Tyler said, a note of distaste in his voice.

  The two men eyed each other, but neither spoke the secrets they were privy to. Neither could afford to be out of Gran’s good graces so close to the party.

  “Well, why wouldn’t she? We have a fantastic time together,” Gran said.

  “I gotta run.” His voice fell as he said the words, hating himself for lying, not once, but multiple times. “I’ve got to get back to work. I’ll stop in and see Misha again soon. Make sure you get some rest, Sophia.”

  Before waiting for a reply, he bent and gave the baby a quick kiss on the head then walked out the door.

  Gran and Gramps wanted to leave the cabin to someone worthy, and there was a time, not that long ago, when he would have said he was that person. Could he still say that now? He’d swindled his way into Olivia’s life, making her an offer she couldn’t refuse, all so he could benefit. Then he lied to his family about his relationship. They had opened their hearts and their home to her, all because he’d told them she was his. But she wasn’t his, never had been.