“Normally I’d agree, but I saw it with my own eyes, man.” He shrugs. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think you fucked her—most likely because you were so drunk you couldn’t get it up—but, hey, it’s one small blessing, right?”

Nothing about Casey is a blessing.

“I have to apologize.”

For someone who doesn’t do it very often, it seems like it’s all I do when it comes to Sawyer.

Oakley makes a face. “Yeah, I don’t think an apology is going to cut it. I mean, if that was the only thing you did…maybe.” His eyes turn somber. “But it wasn’t.”

My mouth goes dry again, so I down the rest of my water.

“Tell me everything.”

I need to hear it…this way I can figure out how I can make it right.

How to fix it.

“Well, after she found you with Casey, you chased her into the house and accused her of dating you for attention.”

A groan lodges in my throat. “Sawyer isn’t an attention whore.”

He snaps his fingers. “Funny you say that—because that’s exactly what you called her…in front of everyone.” He starts ticking things off with his fingers. “You also told her that she was a crybaby. Told her how much you didn’t like her. Well, you and everyone else. Then you said some shit about being alive and free…before calling her a coward who couldn’t hack it and yelling at her to leave you alone and stop torturing you.”

It’s becoming a struggle to breathe.

I might have said it to Sawyer…but I most definitely was not talking about her.

The muscles in my chest tighten. “Liam.”

Oakley frowns. “That’s what Bianca said.”

“Stone started talking about him and I lost my shit.”

“Well, that Stone dude is a real douchebag.” He plops down in the chair again. “And so are you, because after all that…you told everyone how great her tits were.” He sucks in a breath. “I mean, it wasn’t an insult, but you know how Sawyer is.”

She probably felt humiliated. Not only does she hate when people talk about her body…the fact that I talked about her like a piece of meat in front of everyone…

“Jesus fucking Christ. Please tell me I shut up after that.”

“Man, I wish you did, because the shit you did after was definitely the nail in your coffin.”

“What did I do?”

“You decided to have a little contest between you and Sawyer.”

Safe to say I’m confused. “Contest?”

He slaps his leg. “Yeehaw. Ring a bell?”

Can’t say it does. “No.”

“Well, it should because that’s exactly what you said…before your egotistical ass asked everyone in the room if they wanted to fuck you.” His nostrils flare. “The girls went crazy, by the way. But the same can’t be said for poor Sawyer when you flipped the tables and asked the guys about her.”

Just when I think it can’t get any worse…it does.

“I—”

His eyes narrow. “And that’s when I kissed her.”

My guilt quickly turns to rage, and I stand up. “You did what, motherfucker?”

He matches my stance. “I kissed Sawyer.”

“Why the fuck—”

“Because the guy she was excited to go on a date with turned around and publicly massacred her…again.” He points to his chest. “No way in hell was I going to let that girl believe she was worthless, because her drunk boyfriend was going through some shit and decided to use her as his proverbial punching bag for the night, you ruthless prick.” Making a face, he shrugs. “I also knew it would make you want to punch me, and when you tried to take a swing, I moved out of the way and you hit the floor. That’s when it was over.”

Remorse ripples inside me…the kind I’ve only experienced one time in my life.

“I have to see her.”

Oakley shakes his head. “You need to do that girl a favor and let her cool off for a little while.”

“I can’t.”

Staying away from Sawyer isn’t an option…ever.

I fish around in my pocket for my keys, but come up empty. “Does Bianca still have them?”

“Probably, but your car is at Christian’s.”

Doesn’t matter. I’ll walk there if I have to.

However, it won’t get me there fast enough. “I need a ride.”

“Where to?”

“Her house.”

Oakley looks at me like I’ve sprouted another head. “You’re definitely still drunk. It’s three thirty in the morning.”

“I don’t care.”

Oakley starts to protest, but I cut him off. “Stop acting like you’ve never fucked up before.”

Sighing, he pulls his keys out of his pocket. “Fine, let’s go. But when her daddy shoots your stupid ass, don’t come crying to me.”

Hell, at this point I deserve it.

Chapter 50

Sawyer

I’m tossing and turning in bed when something hits my window.

Assuming it’s harmless, I roll over and fall back asleep.

Until a few minutes later when I hear some rustling against the house, followed by a low, “Ouch.” And, “Goddammit.”

Instantly, I bolt up in bed…and silently curse myself for leaving my window open.

I’m about to run out and get my dad, but a tall figure wearing a hooded sweatshirt climbs through my window.

A scream lodges in my throat. As if the night couldn’t get any worse, I’m about to be murdered in my own bed.

Screw that.

I pull out the bat I keep underneath my bed and raise it over my head.

“Jesus. It’s me,” the figure who sounds a lot like Cole utters. “Put down the bat.”

I must be having a nightmare.

Unfortunately, a very real-life Cole lowers the hood of his sweatshirt and walks over to me.

I do put down the bat, but only so I can push him. He’s literally the last person in the world I want to see, so the fact he’s even here right now is absurd.

“Get the hell out—”

His hand slams over my mouth and he backs me against the wall. “I know you’re angry. You have every right to be.” He holds my gaze. “I’m sorry.”

He’s unbelievable.

If he thinks crawling through my window in the middle of the night is going to earn my forgiveness, he’s out of his damn mind.

I remove his hand. “Leave. Now.”

“No. Not until I know you don’t hate me.”

I don’t hate him.

I regret him. Big difference.

“Fine, I don’t hate you. Now go.”

“No.”

“Then I guess I’m calling the cops.”

I head for the door, but his arms wrap around my waist and he pulls me until my back is flush against him. “I fucked up, Bible Thumper.”

At least that we can agree on.

“You’re the last person in the world I want to hurt,” he rasps.

“And yet, you did it anyway,” I whisper, my chest caving in. “There’s no coming back from this. What’s done is done.” I hate the way my voice cracks. “Go back to Casey.”