by Bria Quinlan
“Is there anyway for me to regain whatever cool I had established with you?”
23
Emily
“You keep asking me about recovering dignity and cool…and I keep wondering when you thought you lost them.”
“Or had them, apparently,” Sage mumbled under his breath.
The proximity of him—of everything—dawned on me in a sweeping moment. I took a step back, bumping into the island in the middle of the kitchen, and all but rebounding back into Sage.
“Hey, now.” He took my hand and smiled down at me, not stepping in again, but certainly not letting me go, either.
I looked up at him, the light hair flopping in his eyes, that easy smile, the soft way he looked at me and wondered…what the heck am I doing here?
I glanced around, looking for the door and wondering if hitchhiking were illegal in this state.
“Stop that.” Sage cut into my thoughts, pulling me in this time to wrap his other arm around me, trapping our hands over his heart. “We were having a good time. No panicking. You just saw that I live with a pair of teenagers trapped in fifty-year-old bodies. Now we have dessert, you let me hold your hand, and I kiss you good night.”
I was still trying not to panic when he waggled his eyebrows like some tacky ’70s actor. The snort slipped out without me even realizing.
“Sage!” a voice came from the other room. “Will Emily be here for breakfast?”
“Kill me now.” He glanced toward the ceiling, as if it might fall in on him.
I liked him like this. The edges of gloss I’d painted over him rubbed away. He wasn’t a spoiled mama’s boy or a guy using his role in celebrity to get what he wanted.
He was sweet and funny and awkward. That last one won me over a bit.
He walked me back around the counter and pulled out the stool for me before rounding the bend to the fridge.
“So, dessert?” Sage pulled open the freezer, glancing in it with a nervous look. “Dessert. Right.”
I rested my chin on my hand, watching him try to figure this out. I mean, he said dessert.
“How about some…no.” He pushed the freezer door shut and pulled the fridge open. “We could have…oh. Yeah, no.”
Straightening, he ran his hand through his hair, still glaring at the refrigerator as if not having dessert was its fault.
“What if we get ice cream on the way back to your place?” he asked—as I could have sworn he sent a glare toward the living room.
“Actually,” I gave him my disappointed face. “I hate ice cream. And cheese.”
“You hate ice cream?” He sounded more shocked than I expected.
“And cheese.”
“Ice cream and cheese?” He turned back around, obviously trying to come up with a plan B while I tried not to giggle.
“Also, kittens and rainbows.” I went on. “Oh, and philanthropy. I’m so anti-philanthropy I thought about starting my own anti-philanthropy philanthropy.
He spun to look at me, gaze narrowed. “You’re joking.”
I did my very well-rehearsed blank face and asked, “Am I?”
We stood, facing off over the kitchen island, until he broke and started laughing.
“There’s no way you hate ice cream, kittens, and philanthropy.”
“Don’t forget cheese.”
“Well, good thing I’m not going to ask for cheese on my kittens.” He grabbed his keys off the counter, giving the kitchen a last glance to make sure he’d put everything way. “Hold on a second.”
He headed down the hallway toward the sound of the TV, and after a minute I heard, “My eyes! My eyes! Can’t you two act your age?”
I laid my head down on my arms where they rested on the counter and lost it.
This family was nuts. I thought the crazy thing about him would be he worked for rock stars, but apparently Sage was a crazy magnet.
A moment later, he breezed out of the hall and toward the door as if a cave troll was chasing him.
“Ready?” he asked, holding it open, obviously looking to escape the House of the Aging Lovebirds.
I gave him a smile and a little pat on the arm as I went by. The poor guy was embarrassed by the love fest, but honestly? It was the cutest thing I’d seen in my life. Who didn’t want that? To still be making out like teenagers when you were old enough to be parents.
“I think they’re cute.”
“Shhhh.” Sage pulled the door shut behind us. “If they hear you, next time they’ll do it on purpose. Actually, they’ll probably do it on purpose next time anyway. So, I’m thinking about moving to Antarctica. Anything new with you?”
He opened the door to his truck and waited while I climbed in.
Before he closed it, I asked, “If you move to Antarctica, can I have your parents?”
He stopped, hand on the doorframe, and glanced away. “I’m such a dick.”
“What?”
“The parents thing. I mean—”
“Hey. No.” I turned back, blocking the door from closing with my foot. “I didn’t mean it like that, and you should never feel bad for having a great family. And you guys had your bad stuff, too. Count your blessings. It’s not like your blessings steal my blessings.”
Sage stared at me, his gaze so focused I wasn’t sure what he was thinking, until he said, “You’re amazing.”
Oh.
“No.” I shook my head, not wanting anyone—especially Sage—to mistakenly put me on a pedestal. “No, I’m not.”
“I think you are.” He leaned in. “Don’t panic, but I’m going to kiss you now.”
“Why would I panic?” I mean, besides the fact he was going to kiss me and I wasn’t sure I was ready.
It’s not like I was unkissed. But I hadn’t been kissed since Troy, and that explosion of life-altering awfulness wasn’t exactly high on my repeat list.
Of the guys I’d kissed before, I’d never felt this rush of expectation in that moment. I’d felt excitement or nerves, but this time it was something different. It was as if I was giving him something he wouldn’t let me take back—but he was doing the same thing.
And then his lips brushed over mine, lightly, testing. And they were soft, and feathering, and my heart nearly broke from it. Then, as I feared he’d just give me that gentle sweep of a kiss, his hand slid up my neck, wrapping his fingers through my hair, and my heart dropped right through my body and halfway to the center of the earth.
24
Sage
Emily let out a small gasp. Sage felt the gentle sound hit him squarely in the chest. Her hair was pure silk where it wrapped and tangled in his fingers as he attempted to hold her.
But she was holding him.
Right at the edge of everything he had never felt and nothing he ever knew existed. The wind of the unknown whipped up the side of the cliff face where they were metaphorically standing, and her soft lips were the solid place his mind became tethered.
Maybe it was because he’d been anticipating this moment, fantasized about it, since the first day he’d met her. Or maybe it was because every time he was with her she opened his heart and his head to a new point of view that was so gloriously unexpected...
He’d lived a happy life. A good life. A great life, even.
But for the first time in that happy/good/great life, he was experiencing blissful need.
Her mouth reciprocated in pressure and her hands slid up his chest to press against the place his heart hammered. He braced his free hand against the doorframe to keep it from reaching into the truck and pulling her against him. Instead, he focused all of his energy on where his mouth was moving against hers.
She parted her lips just slightly and he accepted her invitation, deepening the kiss. He touched his tongue to her bottom lip for the barest of tastes, and then he ended the kiss.
He pulled away from her face a few inches to take a deep breath and see her in the starlight. Her eyes stayed closed and she let out a soft sigh, her cheeks freshly pink.
He’d done that.
That calm beauty that rested on her expression with such ease.
And he’d do it again. Soon.
Her eyes fluttered open and she smiled. Another new smile. Not shy, not blinding, something more than happy. This one was just for him. A smile that perhaps hadn’t existed until he’d kissed her. A smile he helped create.
Together they had very carefully and slowly built a new language between the two of them. Like the shaping of wood that becomes an instrument to be held and played by a master musician, they were together shaping an instrument meant to be played by only them to make music only they would understand.
He grinned and bit down on his bottom lip before closing her door and jogging around to the other side of the truck.
They weren’t even out of the driveway before he reached for her hand again, holding it on the seat in between them. He didn’t want to sever the connection he’d found.
The sound of her sweet voice reached his ears in small stages. Light and soft, and then all at once clear as she sang along with the radio.
Train’s “Drops of Jupiter.”
It was one of those songs everyone knew, and impacted everyone differently. Where her head was, he had no idea. Her eyes were on the stars, her lips moved to the words, and her voice was crisp and melodic. He squeezed her hand at the same time as he joined his voice with hers. Because who didn’t know every single word to this song?
She faced him, her smile wide. He returned it. Their volume increased until he could no longer hear Patrick Monahan and it was just Sage, Emily, and rising violins.
The song ended and she chuckled. “That was awesome. I love that song.”
Sage filed that away for all time and pulled the truck over at a small ice cream place.
She ordered chocolate with sprinkles and he tried to order his sundae with extra kittens. To which the dude working behind the counter looked disgusted. But it made Emily laugh, so it was well worth the look of disdain.
He dropped the tailgate on the truck and they sat on the open gate, legs swinging as they ate. Well, Emily ate. Sage mostly forgot his ice cream in favor of peppering her with ridiculous questions.
“What other things besides cheese, kittens, ice cream, and philanthropy do you dislike?”
She nodded seriously as she swallowed. “Italian food.”
“Yeah?” He lifted his eyebrows, trying desperately to make his face as sober as hers.
“And old pickup trucks.”
He glanced over his shoulder and made a face. “That’s not good.”
“Boys with floppy hair and green eyes.”
She looked up at him through her eyelashes, her lips quirking on one side.
“I’ll get a haircut tomorrow,” he said, his focus dropping to her mouth again.
“Good.” She nodded curtly and looked away. He leaned forward and took her dish of ice cream out of her hands. “Hey!” Her laughter died when she realized how close he was to her face. She swallowed as her gaze landed on his mouth.
Sage hovered just out of reach, their lips a fraction of a centimeter from touching. She looked up at him, expectation and hope swirling through those baby blues.
Then he kissed her. Short, soft, and with just enough pressure so that when he leaned away again, she followed for a beat.
He grinned and gave her back her ice cream.
“I don’t like your kisses, either,” she said, clearing her throat and stirring the last little bit around in her cup.
“Right. And I’m going to start breeding yorkies tomorrow.”
She snorted.
He eyed her melted ice cream and realized it was getting late. Especially for her. She probably had work right away in the morning and he was taking up all of her time.
Hopping down from the tailgate, he offered her his hand. She glanced up at him, a small flash of disappointment touching her features before she covered it. Good. She wasn’t overly anxious to get away from him.
They tossed the rest of their dessert into the trash receptacle before pointing the truck toward her apartment.
The drive was quiet, but not in an awkward “what the hell do I talk about now?” kind of way. It was the kind of quiet that settles over people who just aren’t ready to say goodnight yet. As if the silence were assisting them in soaking up every little detail of the evening.
She waited for him to come around and help her out of the truck. He grasped her hand and as she started to walk toward her door, he pulled her to a stop. She looked up at him with a soft frown. Taking a deep breath, Sage slipped his other arm around her waist and pulled her into his arms.
“What are you doing?” she asked breathlessly.
“Making a very important memory.” Sage began to sway their bodies to the rhythm in his head. He waggled his eyebrows, then began singing the chorus to “Drops of Jupiter” one more time.
He spun her out and back in again, dancing with her on the city sidewalk. Easily the best first date ever. She was smiling, blushing, and holding tight to his hand by the time they got to her door.
She turned to face him, as if she were going to say goodnight on the front step.
“No way,” he said firmly. “I’m walking you all the way to the door. That’s where I give you your goodnight kiss.”
She sucked in a breath and her voice came out in a stammer. “But you’ve already kissed me.”
“Bonus kisses,” he said, tucking her hair behind her ear. “The goodnight kiss is at the end. Everyone knows that.”
“Oh.”
He grinned. “Yeah. Oh.” He loved it when she said “oh.” It said everything.
For three flights of stairs, her hand was trembling in his and he couldn’t understand why. Surely she knew that the next kiss could only be better than the first two. Which meant it was going to be pretty freaking unbelievable.
They stopped at her door and she turned to face him.
“Well, good night,” she whispered.
He got the distinct impression she hadn’t meant to whisper. He cupped her face with both of his hands and leaned in. Her hands rested lightly on his waist.
“It was a great night,” he corrected her, his mouth brushing against hers. Her body sagged forward and he took one final second to admire her closed eyes; her plush, expectant lips; her pink cheeks. “Most beautiful girl in the world,” he murmured right before he slanted his head and took her mouth with his.
She let a soft sigh and he wondered if she knew she did that when he kissed her. He moved his lips over hers, lightly at first, and then increased in pressure when her hands slid up his chest to his neck and finally in his hair.
She was everything bright and beautiful and good in the world. A shooting star, exploding light all over his life without even meaning to. She could destroy him with her brilliance, bring him to his knees.
But she didn’t.
There was no fiery explosion, or pain, or dismemberment.
Just a kiss.
And yet the effect was the same.
He was physically intact, but his world had been blown away.
25
Emily
The door closed behind me and I turned around, my whole body soft with happiness, to find Ash and Megan standing in the hall looking at me as if I were nuts.
“Where have you been?” Ash asked. If she’d had on an apron and been waving a wooden spoon around, she could have been a ’50s mom.
“Is he a great kisser?” Megan jumped in.
“Do you know what time it is?”
“He’s surprisingly hot for a slacker guy.”
“Do you have your work bag together?”
“Did he ask you out again?”
“You’ve only got ten minutes to hoof it to Michael’s.”
I watched the two of them, my gaze bouncing back and forth like a deranged tennis match.
“Oh.” I ran a hand through my hair, pushing off the greatness of the night. “Is it that late?”
<
br /> I pushed past them, tugging off my shirt as I went and grabbing a T-shirt. Luckily, my bag was packed and by the break in my furniture-wall.
“Yes.”
“This is why I should be an Uber driver.” Megan crossed her arms and nodded…bringing everything to a halt.
“No.”
“Never.”
I glanced at Ash, glad we were back in accord about something.
“What?” Megan sounded totally shocked by this. “Why not?”
“Because we’ve both ridden with you,” Ash pointed out. “And there’s no way Uber could afford the insurance on that.”
“You’re both wrong. Think about it,” Megan went on. “I could be driving Emily right now, and she wouldn’t be running late.”
I almost replied that the stress of running late was nothing to the life-threatening stress of riding with her. But, wisely, I just grabbed my bag and headed for the door.
“Gotta go! You ladies fight this out amongst yourselves.”
I pulled the door shut behind me and rushed down the stairs and out onto the sidewalk, only to slam right into Sage.
“Hey there.” He grabbed my arms to steady me. “Miss me?”
I laughed, because if I thought of it, I might have—you know, between the dog and pony show that was my roomies.
“Sorry! I’m late for work.”
He looked at me as if I were nuts.
“You’re late for work?” He frowned when I nodded. “At The Brew?”
“No, at Michael’s.” I tried to pull away, because I was going to be so late, but Sage just held on and my body didn’t seem to be fighting him overly hard.
“The crafty place?”
I stopped laughing, because—really, why not. Retail was the one place I didn’t have a job.
“No. I do overnight child care for a single dad who’s a doctor.”
“Of course you do.” Sage stepped back, immediately making me miss him, and gestured toward his truck. “Well, let’s see if we can get you there on time.”
He pulled the passenger’s side door open and gestured for me to climb in before rushing around to his side.