Page 130 of His Reckoning

That’s annoying because the last thing I want to do right now is walk back out there and see him.

Not when the air between us is still this charged or when my brain keeps replaying the way he looked at me right before I left, like he was equal parts impressed and furious.

And for some reason … that thought sends a strange little thrill through my chest.

I groan and drop back onto the bed.

“This is a disaster.”

Living with Sawyer was supposed to be simple. A convenient arrangement until I got my life sorted out again.

Instead, it’s turning into a constant battle of egos and tension that neither of us seems capable of ignoring.

And the worst part?

I’m starting to enjoy it.

I stare up at the ceiling. Then sigh. “Fantastic.”

Now I have two problems.

One aggressively confident billionaire who apparently treats my sanity like a competitive sport, and a brain that apparently writes better when he does.

I roll onto my side and pull the blanket over my legs.

Tomorrow.

I’ll deal with him tomorrow.

Tonight, he can sit out there and stew in whatever confusion I left him with.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Sawyer

By Friday night, I’m ready for a drink. Not because work has been particularly difficult this week, but because Kayla has spent several days successfully avoiding me inside my own penthouse.

It should not bother me as much as it does.

Unfortunately, it does.

I leave the office with Dean, loosening my tie as we step onto the sidewalk.

“Jeez,” Dean mutters. “You’ve been in a mood all week.”

“I’ve been busy.”

“You’ve been insufferable.”

I glance at him. “Careful.”

Dean grins. “I’m just saying. If this is about the woman living in your apartment?—”

“It’s not.”

He laughs. “Sure it’s not.”

We push through the doors of the bar a few minutes later. Lincoln, Roman, Walker, and Colton are already there at the back table, but the second I walk in, something immediately catches my attention.