Chaos and Control(41)

There is a deep sadness in her voice, an inflection so solemn it guts me.

“Well, we’ll change and adapt to keep the doors open as long as possible.”

“Yeah,” she says, but there is no conviction behind it.

The front door chimes, and we both turn to see Sawyer approaching, starched uniform and shiny badge. Immediately, my thoughts go to Preston. I search the store and find him standing on aisle two, flipping through the R&B section a little too forcefully.

“Hey there, ladies. You’re both looking lovely today,” Sawyer says, tipping his hat. When he talks, the little hairs that curl up from under his hat flap like wings above his ears.

Bennie smiles and goes back to her magazine. “Hello, Logan,” she says from behind those glossy pages.

“Aren’t you on duty, officer?” I ask.

Sawyer leans on the front counter. He’s too comfortable and confident here in my space.

“I sure am. Turns out you have a little leeway when your dad is the boss.”

I roll my eyes and glance at Preston. He’s stopped going through the inventory and is full-on staring now.

“How did you know I would be here?” I ask, snapping my attention to the boy in front of me, the one who represents my past and my firsts.

“Who says I’m here for you? Huh? Maybe I came to see Bennie.”

“By all means,” I say, waving my hand in her direction. I step from behind the counter and take off down the aisle.

“Wren, come on now,” Sawyer says, following me. “Of course I’m here for you.” He grabs my elbow and spins me around. “I want to take you out.”

I’m sure the expression on my face is disturbingly unattractive, but I can’t seem to control my gaping mouth or bulging eyes. In all our time together, Logan Sawyer never took me out on an actual date. We went from classroom flirting to hooking up in his truck. There were wild nights of partying and private dances in my living room, but never an official date.

“It’s just dinner. You and me catching up,” he says.

What does he really want? Why now? Does he think there is hope of a reunion?

“We have plans.”

I turn to find Preston at my side. The deep possessive lilt to his voice stirs me from my numbness and lights a fire inside. In a casual way, he drapes his thick arm around my shoulders and pulls me in to his side. I grin when the scent of him, soap and something distinctly Preston, washes over me.

Sawyer’s eyes become slits. He stares daggers at Preston’s arm.

“I didn’t even say which day,” he grits out through tight lips.

“It’s all the same,” Preston answers. This new confidence is slaying me in the best way possible.

Sawyer finally meets my eyes, and I nod. “We’re busy. Sorry.”

He turns and makes his way toward the front door in a stunned and angry stupor. I give Preston a puzzled look and shrug out of his grip to catch up with Sawyer.

“Sawyer?”

He faces me now, trying to hide his defeat behind that endearing smile.

“It’s no big deal, Wren. Just wanted to hear about your travels. And catch you up on Crowley life since you’ve been gone. Oh, and did you hear about the Ghostbuster movie with all women? I’ve seen it twice and still don’t know how I feel about it.”

“I met Winston at a Comic Con last year,” I say. Knowing Sawyer’s fascination with everything Ghostbusters, he was all I could think about at the time.

“You met Ernie Hudson?” he almost shouts. Sawyer catches himself and looks around the store before continuing. “I mean, that’s cool. What was he like?”

“Super nice. Seemed like a great guy.”

He smiles and shakes his head. “The adventures of Wren Hart. Guess I’ll never know the rest since you’re so busy.” He shoots an irritated look over my shoulder to where Preston stands.

“You should ask out Angela Louise,” I blurt.

“Who?” A tiny vertical crease appears between Sawyer’s eyebrows.

“She’s a waitress at Millie’s. She went to school with us.”

He contemplates this and then shakes his head. “Oh. Angie Lavelle?”

“Yeah, her.”

“I don’t know. I mean, she seems cool, but her mom is so weird.”

“I’m not telling you to ask out her mom,” I say, rolling my eyes.

“Besides ordering food, I think we’ve exchanged like ten words our entire lives. What makes you think…? Why?”

“She’s pretty, and a nice girl,” I say.

Sawyer’s smile widens. “They’re all nice girls. So were you, once upon a time.”

“Shut up,” I answer, flipping the bill of his hat up. He catches it and slides it back down before reaching out and messing up my hair. “Give her a shot. Besides, she’s got a great rack.” I hold my hands in front of my chest and raise my eyebrows.

He laughs and turns to go. “You’re a mess. Later, Wren.”

“Good-bye, Sawyer.” For once I feel closure and a finality in that statement.

When the door closes, I spin to find Preston a few feet behind me.

“What the hell was that?” I ask.

“What?” He feigns innocence. “I believe I owed you.” Preston slides in front of me, sweeps my bangs to the side—like they were before Sawyer’s visit—and takes off down the aisle. My gaze follows him until he disappears behind one of the clearance racks in the back. The grin on my face makes my cheeks ache.