The Vincent Brothers (The Vincent Boys #2)(41)

“Everything okay?” I asked, hoping to God that she’d tell me what was going on in her life.

Instead, she only shrugged. Dammit.

“Lana, listen, we need to talk about something,” I began walking across the room so I could touch her in case I needed to beg.

She shook her head, “If this is bad news I really don’t think I can handle that right now. Give me a few hours first, please.”

Well, hell, if the pain in her voice didn’t rip me in two. I pulled her against my chest and held her there. She was stiff as a board at first but I continued to rub her back and kiss the top of her head until she relaxed and wrapped her arms around my waist.

“It isn’t bad. But it is time sensitive,” I explained.

She tilted her head to look at me, “Time sensitive?”

“Very. As in someone could lose a limb if they stepped out of line.”

Lana pulled back and the frown puckering her brow was adorable.

“What in the world are you talking about, Sawyer?”

“The fact I want... no, I need, for us to be exclusive until we part ways when we head off to college.”

Lana made a small ‘o’ with her mouth and then she nodded slowly, “Okay. That sounds like a good plan. But why would someone lose a limb?”

I traced her bottom lip with my finger, “Because if they touched you, I’d have to rip off the offending limb.”

A small bubble of laughter escaped her and then she bit down on my finger. Her eyes smiled up at me like a playful kitten.

“So, you want to play rough, do you?” I picked her up and threw her down on the bed before covering her body with mine.

Lana

The ride back to Grove went fast but then I’d slept most of the way. Jake had not been happy when Sawyer informed him that I was sitting up front. I felt bad about it but I liked knowing Sawyer wanted me close to him.

Everyone had loaded their gear into their cars and left. Ashton had even gone inside to go to bed. She was still pretty weak. Sawyer took my bags and put them inside the door of the house, then looked back at me.

“Come with me for awhile,” he said, pulling me back outside onto the porch and closing the door behind me.

“You aren’t tired from all that driving?”

He shook his head and pulled me up against him. My aunt and uncle weren’t home but they could drive up at any minute. I wasn’t sure what they’d think of this.

“Okay. Let me go check on Ash and I’ll be right back down.”

“I’ll wait here,” he replied, letting go of my hand so I could run back inside.

I knocked softly on Ashton’s door then peeked my head inside. She was already curled up under the covers. Closing her door softly, I headed back to Sawyer.

“She okay?” he asked as I stepped outside.

“Yep.”

“Good. Let’s go.”

He rested his hand on my lower back and led me toward the Suburban. “First things first, I’ve got to go get my truck from the house. I want you to be able to sit close enough to me so that I can touch you if I want to.”

Smiling to myself, I climbed inside.

~*~

I’d been to Sawyer’s house with Ashton before. We were younger and I never went inside. We mostly just swam in the lake back behind his property. Walking in the front door with my hand clasped firmly in his was a little nerve-wracking. His parents weren’t home and he’d convinced me to come inside.

“This way,” he motioned for me to go ahead of him down a staircase leading to what looked like the basement.

“Why are we going down here?” I asked, peering back at him over my shoulder.

“This is my cave. Go on,” he encouraged me.

His cave... hmmm. I walked the rest of the way down the stairs and stopped at the bottom unsure which door to open. There were two. One on my right and one on my left. Sawyer reached over me and twisted the knob on the right door then reached in and flipped a switch. The lights came on and I stood there in wonder as I took in the room.

It was huge. Two large black leather sectional sofas sat in the middle of the room in front of a massive flat screen television that hung on the wall. A crimson refrigerator with the University of Alabama’s logo on the outside sat against the left side of the room and a black marble countertop, complete with a sink, sat off to the left of the fridge. On the other wall, shelves and shelves full of trophies stretched from floor to ceiling. Framed football jerseys stood among the trophies. Under the television sat a long black narrow table complete with an Xbox and a Wii. Photos also cluttered the surface. All of them carefully framed. Sawyer’s mother had to have done that. I couldn’t imagine him actually framing photos to sit out.

“You thirsty?” he asked, walking over to the fridge and opening it. “Looks like Loretta came this week. It’s stocked. Coke, Mountain Dew, blue Gatorade, or bottled water?”

“Loretta?” I asked confused.

“The housekeeper. She does all the grocery shopping too.”

“Oh.” People actually had housekeepers that did their grocery shopping? How odd.

“Um, water is fine.” I walked over to the shelves and began reading the plaques on the trophies. MVP seemed to be the most popular award he had received.

“Here ya go,” he handed me a water and turned his attention to the shelves. “Mom did all this. She wanted somewhere for all of this to be displayed. She actually tried to turn one of the guest bedrooms into a “Sawyer Shrine” or so my father called it. He refused to let her and suggested she stick them down here. I agreed with him just so they would be somewhat hidden.”