For the Hope of It All (Merrymount #1)

by Ila Sikorski

Today, he was in jeans with holes that look like they came from hard work outdoors and not bought off the rack. They’re just short enough to see his slutty ankles, a weakness I didn’t know I had until right now, apparently.

If I were alone in my car, I’d start singing along. I'd put on my own sold-out stadium tour concert. But I’m in Sawyer’s Jeep on a non-date, so that would be weird. Right? But he did say I needed to stop making myself small… He was saying that to be nice, Margot. As if I need to prove a point to him, and maybe more so to myself, when the chorus comes around, I start belting it out. I fully expect him to laugh at me, make fun of me, or tell me to stop. But he doesn’t. No, Sawyer Hale smiles so fucking big as he joins in with me, turning the music up for a second time. We finish the song together as we pull into the driveway of the cottages, and I’m dancing in my seat to the next song that comes on as he parks next to his house, laughing at how crazy I must look. But holy shit, this is fun.

Because you make me want to live life again, Margot. I’m sick of being stuck in the past like that.”