Saving Sawyer | ✓

Chapter 29 | I Hate You All So Much

“What’d you do?” Graham asks once I hand him his phone back.

“I blocked him,” I explain. “Now, can I go back to sleep?” I plead.

“How come you’re so tired?” Graham asks with a chuckle.

“Well, we did stay up pretty late last night,” I remind him.

“This is true,” He agrees. “Okay, well, if you want to go back to sleep, you can, but we really do need to leave by at least , like, two o’clock though.”

“Then wake me up at around 1 o’clock,” I say before rolling back over in the bed and closing my eyes. “By the way, you have really, really nice abs.”

“Thank you?” Graham laughs, clearly confused, but also amused by my random compliment, but I mean, in my defense, he isn’t wearing a shirt right now. So when I rolled over in the bed just now and opened my eyes, his beautiful abs were the first thing I saw and what was I supposed do, not stare? Please. That would’ve been so un-girlfriend-y. “You also have really, really nice bodily features,” He replies with the same hint of amusement in his voice.

“Alrighty then,” I giggle. We’re pretty weird, Graham and I, I think, but we’re also very adorable, so that makes it okay. “I’m gonna go to sleep now,” I say.

“Are you asleep yet?” Graham asks me about twenty minutes later in a quite voice, I guess so he doesn’t wake me in case I actually am asleep.

“Nope,” I sigh,. “I don’t think I can go back to sleep,” I tell him. It’s hard for me to sleep when there’s people in the room unless I’m just super exhausted.

“Well, in that case, are you hungry?” He randomly asks me. “Because I’m pretty much starving.”

“Me too,” I agree, realizing how hungry I am. “I wasn’t kidding when I said I’m always hungry.”

“Of course you weren’t,” He laughs. “Okay, well, there’s a breakfast diner a few blocks up the road— I can go get us some breakfast. I would say that we could just cook some, but given last night with the spaghetti and meatballs situation, maybe that isn’t the best idea,” Graham says, getting up from the bed. I roll over in the bed then and watch discreetly (actually, probably not discreetly at all) as he pulls on a white t-shirt, a black Vanderbilt hoodie, grey sweatpants, and his shoes. Obviously, he’s taken a shower and I can tell because his hair looks damp, so I suppose he’s been up for a while, which is strange because he usually is such a late sleeper. Then again though, I’m just getting up and I’m usually not a late sleeper, so today is just opposite day.

“Yeah, you’re definitely probably right about that,” I reply, nodding in agreement.

Honestly, the spaghetti and meatballs didn’t taste completely awful or anything, which was good, but it definitely didn’t taste like it normally does whenever my mom makes it. I mean, it wasn’t the greatest dish ever, but considering the fact that Graham can really only make macaroni and cheese and I can really only bake cookies and cakes and muffins and make breakfast foods, I think that we did a pretty okay job. Anyway though, really early this morning, at around 5 o’clock, I got this really bad feeling in the pit of my stomach, like I was going to throw up and I’m guessing our semi-failed attempt at cooking was to blame for that. It was still pretty romantic though and he didn’t spend a lot of money on it, which makes me feel better— I sometimes hate it when he spends a lot of money on me for things like dinner because it sort of makes me feel like a gold digger.

“Can you bring me back pancakes?” I ask him hopefully as he grabs his car keys.

“I can bring you back pancakes,” Graham confirms, leaning down to kiss my forehead. “I’ll be back soon,” He states.