Page 84 of His Reckoning

His jaw tightens slightly as he looks away, like he’s trying to collect himself before saying something he might regret.

“That shouldn’t have happened.”

The words land in the quiet kitchen like a dropped glass.

I don’t say anything. I’m still leaning back against the island, still aware of the lingering warmth where he was standing seconds ago.

Sawyer grabs the bottle of water he abandoned earlier, but he doesn’t open it. He just stands there for a second, staring at it like it might offer some kind of explanation.

“I shouldn’t have—” He stops again, exhaling through his nose.

Apparently, even Sawyer Maccini doesn’t have a polished speech prepared for this situation.

He glances at me once more, and the look on his face makes something in my chest tighten.

The frustration there isn’t directed at me. It’s directed entirely at himself.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly.

Oddly, the apology hits harder than the kiss.

Sawyer Maccini does not strike me as a man who apologizes often.

Before I can respond, he pushes away from the counter.

“I need some air.” He turns and walks out of the kitchen … just like that.

No dramatic exit or lingering glance. Just long, purposeful strides toward the hallway until he disappears around the corner.

A second later, I hear the sliding door to the balcony open. The apartment goes quiet again.

I stay rooted in place for another minute staring at the empty space in front of me before I lift a hand to my mouth without thinking.

The memory of the kiss comes rushing back all over again.

Warm. Certain. Completely unexpected.

“Well,” I mutter to the empty kitchen, “that was confusing.”

Apparently, the billionaire down the hall kisses like he’s trying to prove a point … and then runs away from it.

Which, frankly, was not how I expected this night to go.

Chapter Sixteen

Sawyer

Ileave the apartment earlier than usual the next morning, but it guarantees one thing: I won’t run into Kayla.

The elevator ride down is quiet, except for the low hum of the cables. I keep replaying the same moment in my head whether I want to or not.

The kitchen. Her standing there with that confident look on her face. The way she challenged me.

“You keep acting like you’re about to do something.”

And then I did.

I tighten my grip slightly on the steering wheel as I pull into traffic.