by Bria Quinlan
“Yeah. And free labor? Like Joey was going to say no to that.”
We both snorted. Joey was running so many slightly-illegal apartments it was lucky his picture wasn’t on the post office wall.
“So he was there, and then I came in here and he was here.” She waved toward the counter. “Fixing something for Abby. And I had to wait for coffee. So I told her she should hire me. And she did. And then he went and built your room.”
“What about his job?” I asked, trying to find the logic behind all of this.
“Still doing it.” Her voice had softened.
Darn it. Sage had won her over, too.
“Yeah, well it’s not like we don’t work more than one job.”
“But none of them have power tools.”
I jumped at the idea of him drilling into himself with something electric and sharp.
“Fine,” I conceded, because what else could I do?
So, Sage had taken care of some stuff while I was gone. Whatever.
I tried to slow down the flutter of my heart. No one had ever done anything that big for me before. But, it felt like…a thing. A thing that was supposed to heal a hurt. I didn’t know if it could.
You can’t buy trust.
We sat there a minute, just the two of us thinking our own thoughts when Megan took a deep breath and gave me a look I knew I wasn’t going to like.
“I think you should talk to him.”
I sighed, closing my eyes and collapsing back in the chair.
“Yeah. Of course. I won’t be able to avoid it now that we’re back. I’m sure when we’re at the studio it will be unavoidable.”
“So, see, that’s the thing?” she hedged. I wasn’t sure what she was avoiding, but I was sure I wasn’t going to like it. “I don’t think he’ll be at the studio.”
“Why not?” Did he get a job and leave? Was he on tour now with someone else? Was that why he wasn’t at The Brew at his regular time?
“I think—I’m not sure...Sage isn’t very chatty, ya know?” Megan looked at me for assurance, but all I could picture was Sage listening to Megan go through story after story without giving him a chance to jump in. “So, I think he might have lost his job.”
“What job?” Was he done with that woman’s dining room?
“His job-job. The one with the band.” Megan looked pained at having to spell it out.
“Why would he have lost his job?” That didn’t make any sense. He said he was just going to stay here and finish the dining room for that lady and then everything would be fine.
“I don’t know. I’m not sure I get it, but I guess this tour is like a test-their-sound thing. And they figure out what they want to do, so that guy has to be on the tour. Almost like a band guy. Like he does the sound and makes notes and takes care of Luke’s guitar and basically is like the band guy behind the band.”
That weirdly made sense to me.
“So, if he’s not on the tour, he can’t do the record?”
Megan nodded. “Or CD, or whatever you call it now. I think that’s the deal.”
We sat there, staring at each other, trying to figure it all out.
“Luke kept giving Asa and Greg notes and saying when we get back. I guess I just assumed that was to work with Sage.”
“Maybe I’m wrong.” But, she didn’t sound like she thought she was wrong.
“What does this mean?” My head couldn’t keep up with my emotions.
I was angry and frustrated and hurt. He’d lied. He’d said he’d never lied, but if this was true he had.
But, he’d lied for me. He made sure I had my shot at something good.
Or, maybe they’d fired him. Zelda could be a little intense about things, and once she decided we were soul sisters, I could see where that might go bad.
But I can’t see her doing something that could damage the band, so no...
“You’re thinking a million things at once,” Megan jumped in. “Just, maybe, you know—ask him.”
But, ask him what?
I didn’t know if I could trust him. This still felt like him trying to buy my trust—of course, you can’t buy something if the person doesn’t know about it, so maybe not.
I still felt betrayed. It wasn’t like him assuming I was a thief was no longer an issue.
But I knew one thing.
I was getting to the bottom of this even if I had to rent a Zipcar and let Megan drive me out there herself.
40
Sage
A week’s worth of demolition work and he’d managed to accomplish it in three days. His muscles screamed at him every time he moved. But still, it wasn’t enough to exhaust him so he could sleep.
He was at the point of crazy tired where he was certain a quarter of his day was spent ignoring full-on hallucinations. And his caffeine addiction was concerning. It was so bad Abby was keeping tabs on his intake. She said she had a strict policy for “over serving.”
Just the day before, he’d stumbled over a large dog in a fedora smoking a cigar. It had happened in The Brew, and Abby saw the entire thing. Even the part where Sage tried to bravely pat the dog on his shoulder in a sign of peace.
There was no dog.
It was a basket filled with Brew T-shirts…or tea-shirts, as John called them.
Sage had been patting the sign.
Abby had questioned whether or not he was safe to drive home. He was just thankful she let him buy a coffee so he could get to his next job site.
Staying busy had been his only hope. If he stopped, even for a moment, the empty future loomed before him. No music, no girl.
All the pieces and scraps he was able to turn into something usable, and he couldn’t pick up those pieces. They hid in discarded piles of sawdust all around him. He had turned off the radio in his truck weeks ago. The silence of the workshop was only noticeable when the tools stopped running.
So he never stopped.
All of this meant he ignored the Zipcar that careened to a stop outside the workshop.
But he couldn’t ignore the pixie-haired, stardust-covered apparition that blew through the doors of the workshop.
“Nope,” Sage said, focusing on the groove he was carving. “You’re not here.”
“Oh, really?” Emily sounded equal parts confused and annoyed.
“I’m sorry, Sage,” Megan said, scurrying in behind Emily.
His eyes flicked up to her. “You’re not here, either.”
“Are you kidding?” Emily asked, eyes narrowed. “I take my life into my own hands by having Megan drive me out here—”
“Hey!”
“And you’re going to ignore me?”
Sage dropped the chisel on the table and placed his fists on his hips. He cocked his head to the side as he glowered at Megan. “We had a deal.”
Megan rolled her eyes dramatically and tossed her hands in the air. “Did you really expect me to keep a secret from my best friend?”
Emily stiffened and turned toward her. “I’m your best friend?”
Megan grimaced and jerked her head at Sage. “Focus on one epiphany at a time.”
“Right.” Emily nodded and went back to Sage. “You’re going to explain to me what exactly is going on.”
Sage shook his head and looked to his boots. “No. Because you’re not here.”
Emily huffed. “Fine, Sage, I’ll bite. Why am I not here?”
His gaze bounced between her eyes, and even though he didn’t want to, he still felt it. The rush of seeing her, the peace that infused his tired limbs. All he had to do was see her, be near her.
“Because I can’t handle it,” he forced out of a dry throat. “Because if you were really here, I’d be liable to embarrass myself.”
Her eyebrows dipped. “Embarrass yourself how?”
His shrug was more of a shoulder twitch.
She pressed her lips together and crossed her arms over her chest. “Did you build me a room and a bed?”
He didn’t answer, exce
pt to flick his eyes over to Megan.
“No, look at me, Sage,” Emily commanded softly.
He did, but it hurt. A slash right through his gut.
When she realized he wasn’t going to outright answer her question, she squeezed the bridge of her nose and sighed. “Why are you here and not at the studio? I went there first.”
Megan may have told Emily what she knew, but the band wouldn’t do that. Not even if she bribed Harrison with a thousand chocolate donuts. Which meant Sage could deny whatever it was Megan may have implied.
Except, he didn’t want to. He hated lying to Emily. It felt like gravel in his veins and cotton in his lungs.
“I don’t work there anymore.”
She tried to read him, measure his words, come to a discernible conclusion.
“Why not?” Her voice just above a whisper.
“Because I don’t.”
“But—” She shook her head and took a step toward him. “You love working there. I’ve heard you talk about it. I’ve seen you do it.”
“Some things are more important.” He blinked, the burn of fatigue making the blink feel thicker and longer than normal. She was so close now he could smell her. The subtle and delicate fragrance that was all her. And all too much. If she didn’t leave soon, he was going to start to beg.
“You lied to me.”
“No. I had other people lie to you.”
“Nice loophole.”
“What? Do you want me to feel like shit about that, too? It’s not enough that I lost the girl of my dreams and the job of my dreams, you want me to feel guilty about how I went about trying to rectify it?” He tried to control the edge of sarcasm that threatened to invade his tone. “Done. Sorry I lied. Sorry I asked others to lie. I’m so damn sorry, I don’t even know what to do with myself.”
Her jaw clenched, pressing her lips into a thin line. “Did you do all of this so that I would forgive you?”
Sage’s tough facade crumbled. “No! Dammit, Emily. I get that I screwed up. I get that you had a shit life. But you make it so freaking hard to love you.”
Her eyes went wide and she took a step back. He narrowed his eyes, knowing how she heard it and knowing what he actually meant. He moved around the worktable to stand before her.
“In my head, you were never gonna find out.” He rolled his lips inward. “In my head, you get to move on and chase your dream, and finally, hopefully, have the life you deserve. I did those things because no matter what, I can’t stop thinking about you. I can’t stop wanting to be a part of your life, even if you never know it. I love you. And I care about you. And while those things seem separate, they tend to go hand in hand.”
He threw a hand toward Megan. “You have the most amazing people I have ever met in my life at your back. And I’m not even surprised. Of course you do. Of course Abby would throw down for you, and Megan threatened castration.
“You inspire loyalty and devotion. And they love you. We all love you. All the time. But you make it so blasted hard. Not because you’re hard to love. No, that part is easy. It’s hard to get you to accept our love. You’re so busy waiting for the other shoe to drop just so you can say you saw it coming the whole time. But Em, darlin’, we’re gonna love you anyway. Our love isn’t contingent on your acceptance of it.
“Which is why I was trying to love you secretly. Because I knew you’d think there was an angle, or an agenda. And there’s not.”
He dropped his hands limply against his things. “I love you. That’s the only reason I have.”
41
Emily
I stood there, looking at Sage looking at me and wondering, what the heck just happened.
“So…” Megan glanced between us. “You heard that, right?”
I nodded, still looking at Sage and trying to stop the panicked paralysis setting in.
“Soooo…” Megan nudged me.
I glanced at her, completely at a loss.
Sage was saying he loved me.
I don’t know if anyone has ever said that before. Even Troy, the manipulative ass, never used those words to get me to do what he wanted.
I should have felt all that mushy stuff people talk about—the stuff I’d longed for. But instead, I felt a fast and dark fear reaching up to wrap its boney fingers around my ankles. I’d had people in my life who were supposed to love me and that had never worked out so well.
“How do you know?” I asked, not sure what this all meant, because I wanted this. I wanted him. More than I’d ever wanted anything before. I couldn’t stand the idea of love meaning something different to him than it meant to me and losing him later.
“Oh, Emily.” Megan gave me a hug and headed toward the door. “I’ll be in our snappy hybrid Zipcar.”
Even in an emergency, Megan got a car she loved.
The door fell shut behind her, and then it was just the two of us.
“How do I know,” he asked. “How do I know I love you?”
I wished he’d stop saying that. I wasn’t sure my heart could take much more. I’d lost him once—along with the only strip of pride I had.
Now I was willing to let the pride go, but him? I don’t think I could get used to him being in my life only to lose him again.
“I know, for a million reasons, and none at all.” He put down the towel he’d been holding and leaned back against the thing he’d been working on. “I know, because you make me feel like everything in my life focuses down to when I’m with you. Every moment I’m not with you are just the moments between. I know, because you don’t care about what I build, but yours has become the opinion that counts. From the moment I saw you, you get more beautiful—inside and out. You bring so much joy to other people and I love that…I don’t need it all for me.”
I stared at him, completely lost by this picture of me he was painting. The girl I knew could never live up to that—or to his world.
“I know, because you’re my music.”
I heard my own small gasp, because there was nothing more precious to him than that.
We stood there, the two of us joined by the hand he reached out for. As soon as his strong, calloused hand wrapped around mine, I felt a connection I’d been fighting since he’d first walked in The Brew.
I gave a tug on my hand, trying to get it back. Afraid of the buzz that zipped along my whole body from the connection.
“When I’m building a guitar, I find the wood that’s most easily going to create the best sound and work the shape I want. You shape and sand and fit and build and find the best components to fit it with.
“And,” he continued, “if I do everything right, if I give this piece of wood and metal enough love, and attention, and care—the sound it makes will be perfect. That barely ever happens.” He gave me this little smile, sad and a bit broken, that hurt me down to my soul. “But that’s not what you are.”
Oh.
I was melting. Melting in a way that meant I’d never have all of me back, no matter what happened next.
“Sometimes,” he went on, “you build it and the sound is past perfect. It has flaws and tones that aren’t like every other guitar. And it’s beautiful. That’s you, Emily. You’re the beautiful sound I hear even in my sleep.”
He stood there, one hand tucked in his pocket, looking at me as if I were something special. Like I was important.
And in that moment I knew we needed to get this right.
I boiled it down to the absolute truth.
“You hurt me.”
“I know.”
“In the worst way.”
“I know,” he repeated, more gently.
“I can’t let people in who aren’t going to stand by me. I can’t have my life ripped away again.”
I closed my eyes because he looked so sad. His sadness was obviously not for him, but for me. At it, a heat of anger burst through my heart I hadn’t expected.
“And I don’t want your pity.” I pushed my gaze back up to meet his. “I don’t want y
ou walking on eggshells. I just want your trust and your loyalty.”
“They’re yours.”
I stood there, trying not to shake. I felt fear and anger and relief and an emotion I wasn’t afraid to name, but wasn’t sure if it was true pumping through me like adrenaline.
Never before had I wanted like this.
I’d learned early in the system that wanting got you nothing but heartache.
“Emily.” Sage took a small, soft step toward me. “I realize what I did. It was stupid. I thought—I thought I was protecting you. I wasn’t thinking about you. Just, what’s the worst thing that could happen, and how do I stop it. But, I should have thought of you—I should have known...”
I looked away, trying to compose my feelings. Taking a deep breath, I turned back to him. It was so much. Part of me knew what he was saying. The guys had talked him up nonstop on the tour. And, I guess I could understand the impulse to save me—even from myself.
I just struggled so much with the hurt that he thought there’d been a need for that.
But, he was right about something. Just like I needed him to trust me, I also needed to learn to trust him.
And, lowering my gaze and letting everything I was feeling wash over me, I realized…I had.
“But, I realized something.” He took another step forward so his scuffed-up work boots stepped into view. “And, I’m not sure you’re ready to hear it. But, I need to say it.”
“Oh.” I stepped back, pushing those boots out of view, pushing him out of view. Giving myself one more moment to catch up, because I had the worst feeling that I was the one ending us—for good. He was going to tell me we could be friends. And I’d smile and nod. At least I didn’t have any more hair to cut off unless I was going to go for a close shave. “That’s okay. I mean, I think we both know this had to be it, right?”
I wasn’t sure what I was going to accomplish coming out here, but maybe it was just what I needed.
“Right.” He stepped back in. “This is definitely it for me.”
I nodded, wondering how to make my exit as graceful as possible.
“You’re definitely it for me.” Sage reached out and took my hand, gently trapping me there with him. “I don’t care how long it takes. I know you’re it for me. The only way I’ll give up is if you can say honestly I’m not for you. I know you may need to take some time for that. I know I have to earn back your trust, but Emily, you’re the best person I know. Which makes me the biggest idiot I know.” He sucked in a breath. “That’s a pretty big idiot with the people I know, so I’m sure I’ll mess this up again. But—I love you. I love you love you. And, if you’ll let me be near you—near your beautiful sound—I’ll keep working to earn that trust and time and hopefully your love.”