She was . . . his.
“Tell me you want to see this,” he told her, needing her to answer him.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Tell me you trust me, Kennedy.”
Her eyes raked over his face briefly and what he saw didn’t give him a warm feeling.
“Kennedy?”
“It’s just . . .”
He didn’t need her to fill in the blank. “I know you hated me in high school,” he stated. “I don’t blame you. I was an asshole. But I’m not that same guy.”
Kennedy studied him for a moment and Sawyer held his breath. When she didn’t say anything, he felt the need to continue. “If I could change the things I did, I would.”
“Sometimes I wish you could.” The honesty in Kennedy’s voice made Sawyer’s chest ache. What they’d done to her in high school had scarred her for life and he wasn’t lying when he said he would take it all back. She wasn’t the only kid they’d bullied, but Sawyer had learned from his mistakes. He’d seen firsthand with Ethan just what that type of treatment could do to a person.
“I’m sorry,” he told her. “I want you to trust me. Starting now, because I swear to you, Kennedy, I’m not that guy anymore.”
“I know,” she said after a lengthy pause. “I know you’re not that guy.”
The vise grip on Sawyer’s chest loosened just slightly. He continued to watch her, waiting to see if she had more to say.
He was glad he kept his mouth shut because the next words she said to him would ultimately change his entire life.
“I know that was a long time ago. And now . . . I trust you, Sawyer.”
Releasing her hair, Sawyer slid his hands down her arms and then took one of her hands in his, still watching for signs that she was rethinking her answer. She was flushed, her eyes glazed, but there wasn’t an ounce of confusion on her face, so he tugged her toward him and then led her over to the staircase that would take them down to the play area.
As soon as he could see over the railing, he surveyed the room, trying to gauge the level of play going on. Saturday nights were usually the craziest, but he wasn’t sure how many guests were staying in the hotel at the moment. Considering the holidays had come and gone, he knew the requests had multiplied tenfold. The place was crowded, bodies everywhere, some clothed, some . . . not.
“You okay?” Sawyer asked Kennedy as they approached the main floor. He had noticed her hand had tightened around his, but she hadn’t made a sound. Then again, he probably wouldn’t have heard her over the deep bass beat that was echoing through the cavernous space.
“Yeah,” she said, sounding a little breathless. He wasn’t sure if that was because of their brief make-out session or the bodies writhing in front of her.
As with the restaurant, the clubs had exterior entrances that allowed for nonguests to come in. However, they weren’t allowed into the hotel proper from the club, so those who were in the play area were actually hotel guests. And they seemed to be enjoying all that the hotel had to offer tonight.
Several people were sitting at the tall tables scattered throughout. The leather couches were occupied as well and there were quite a few bodies lining the walls. Not everyone was participating in the debauchery—some were enjoying drinks while they talked, their eyes roaming the room. They’d learned early on that it took all kinds. Some people preferred to engage in activities in public, others merely opted to watch. Of course, there were still those who enjoyed the private playrooms and the various equipment provided. But the one thing that everyone had in common was that they were all there because they wanted to be.
Sawyer remained at the edge of the room, keeping Kennedy close as they observed what was going on around them. Just as he expected, she was enthralled with the action, despite the fact that she probably didn’t want to be. It was similar to porn. Although it might not be for everyone, if it was on the television, it was difficult not to look. Even just briefly.
But Kennedy wasn’t doing just a brief scan of the room. Her eyes had widened, her fingers clenching his tightly as she looked on. Stopping in an unoccupied area, Sawyer pulled her up against him, his chest to her back. He wrapped his arms around her, releasing her hands and lacing his fingers together in front of her. He inhaled the sweet scent of her hair and her perfume, hardly noticing what was going on around them.
“Is that Greyson?” Kennedy asked, drawing Sawyer’s attention to the direction she was looking.
“Yeah,” he said against her ear.
“Does he know that girl?”
“He does now,” Sawyer replied, chuckling.