And it was partly for that reason that Kennedy had absolutely no interest in the guy. With a gaggle of women who couldn’t resist him, there was no room in Sawyer’s life for another. Especially for a woman like her. Because no matter what, although she might look different than she had in high school, no longer carrying a few too many pounds, or sporting glasses, she was still that girl. And it pissed her off to no end just how superficial Sawyer was, because he didn’t know a damn thing about her, other than that she wasn’t that nerdy little girl anymore. But she was still smart. And what Sawyer didn’t seem to realize was that Kennedy wasn’t looking for sloppy seconds. And Sawyer had sloppy written all over him.
She’d held to that vow she made to herself all those years ago. She would show this snotty little town just what she was made of. Which she’d done in spades when she’d come back from college with a degree, opened her own business, and successfully managed it all this time.
Granted, it didn’t help that she’d shed those awkward teen years, either.
However, she knew that Sawyer only saw what was on the outside because that was what Sawyer was interested in. Just like every single one of his brothers, Sawyer had been the talk of the town for the last, oh, say, twenty years. And while Sawyer’s brothers were slowly being snatched up right and left, he was still single, still a man whore.
No, thank you.
However, it didn’t seem to matter how much resistance she put up, either Sawyer didn’t get it, or he simply didn’t care that she wasn’t interested. Not that it affected her either way, because Kennedy had sworn a long time ago that she would not go down that road with any man. She had absolutely no desire to be cast aside by anyone, certainly not a playboy like Sawyer who handed out heartaches like they were in high demand.
The deep voice that cleared directly in front of her brought her to the present, and damn it all to hell, she blushed. Glancing up, she noticed Sawyer’s lopsided grin. Damn him.
“Kennedy,” he said almost formally.
“Sawyer,” she responded in a similar tone.
Just as she had come to expect, that was the extent of their conversation, but she had a feeling tonight he wasn’t going to be quite so easy to brush off.
Glancing down, Kennedy realized her glass was now empty. “If you’ll excuse me,” she told him as sweetly as she could muster, “I think I need more to drink.” Especially if she was going to have to deal with him.
“Let me,” he said in that sweet, gentlemanly tone that she hated. The one that contradicted everything she knew about the man, all of the memories she had of him from high school. She hated it even more because he sounded so damned perfect when he spoke like that. Almost as though he cherished women the way they should be and not just for one of those quick rolls in the hay that he favored.
“Thanks, but no thanks,” she said assuredly.
“Too late,” Sawyer replied, holding out a glass. “On me.”
She knew she should’ve refused his offer, but it wasn’t easy. Kennedy had to work hard on her bitchiness when it came to Sawyer. Although he’d been part of the group that bullied her in high school, she still had a hard time being mean to others, maybe because of how she’d been treated. That was a gene she hadn’t been blessed with, and truthfully, brushing Sawyer off was one of the most taxing things she’d done as of late.
“No thanks. I can get my own drink,” she finally stated, hating herself for being so rude.
“You know . . .” Sawyer began, and Kennedy heard the condescension in his tone, which of course, caused her to turn and look directly into those eyes that seemed to look deep into her soul.
“What?”
Yes, she was playing right into his hands, she knew it the moment she turned to face him, but damn him, he did strange things to her. No matter how hard she tried to keep her distance, Sawyer was good at getting under her skin.
“Never mind.”
Oh no. No freaking way was he going to end this at never mind.
Doing her best to maintain her professional persona—after all, yes, she was a professional—Kennedy started counting backward from one hundred in her head.
Ninety-nine, ninety-eight, ninety-seven.
“While you count down, I’ll just put your drink here on the table.” Sawyer laughed as he set the drink down and grabbed her empty glass out of her hand before turning and walking away.
“Wait!” she called out, jumping to her feet and damn near plowing into him when he stopped abruptly. She somehow managed to compose herself and not touch him, all the while balling her hands at her sides to keep from doing something immature like yanking the empty glass out of his hands. That would be petty and childish.