So, I’m pretty sure I know what they were doing.
“I don’t mind,” Colby says.
“Take a right here, and I’m in the apartments on the left.”
Colby leans his head forward to get a better look at the apartments, and the distinct sound of his disapproval rings through the truck.
“It looks sketchy at night, but I promise it’s a great area, super cheap and, hey, no kitchen to clean, so yay.”
“You don’t have a kitchen?” Sage asks, astonished.
I shake my head. “Nope. It’s an efficiency apartment, so I only really have a mini fridge and microwave, but it works.”
Colby pulls into a parking spot and checks out the area, a crease in his brow. “I don’t like it.”
“It’s fine,” I answer, exasperated. “Trust me, I’m incredibly safe here.” I gather my things and open the truck door. “Thank you for the ride, and Sage, it was so nice talking to you and getting to know you.” I point at Colby and smile. “You got a good one there; don’t let him fly away.” I elbow her in the arm. “Get it, fly away.”
She chuckles. “Totally got it.”
“Okay, good night, you two, and no funny business. You both are to go straight to bed when you get home.” I tap my nose twice and then point at them. “Safe sex is abstinence.”
I don’t know why I just said that.
“Christ,” Colby mutters under his breath. “Do you need help to your apartment?”
“Nope, all good.” I hop out of the truck. “Thanks again, and call me; you have my number, Sage. I would love to get together, really show you the town . . . not a buffet.”
“You can leave now,” Colby says as Sage laughs.
I shut the truck door and make my way to my apartment. That was fun today. I made a new friend and set a new mission: find a man, but not just any man. There have been enough douches in my life. Rory is settled and so happy. And well, I want that. The benchmark is high though, because I want a man like Colby. After all the shit I’ve been through in my life, surely by now I deserve nothing less.
Chapter Seventy-Eight
COLBY
“I’m fucking tired,” I say, flopping on my couch.
Bent sits across from me, beer in hand, a weary look on his face. “That was brutal today.” He runs a hand over his jaw, looking into the empty space.
“What happened up there? You were off your game.”
“So were you,” Bent counters.
I was.
And this is why I’ve avoided getting into a relationship, because my mind wanders when it shouldn’t, when I’m flying a heavy piece of machinery at Mach speed. It’s dangerous when your mind isn’t clear. And my mind isn’t, not after the other day . . . after running into Ryan.
“What’s up?” Bent asks, interrupting my thoughts.
“I should be asking the same with you. Still seeing that girl?”
He takes a sip of his beer and sucks in a sharp breath of air before slowly letting it out. “I don’t know what the fuck is going on with her.”
“Looks like she’s got you twisted.”
He shakes his head. “Nah, temporary insanity. What about you? Does your lack of focus have anything to do with the hot-as-fuck girl who walked back into your life the other day?”
“She’s just a friend.”
“She’s got to be more than that. I saw the way you reacted to her.”
Who wouldn’t react to her in that bathing suit? Almost everything was visible apart from a few strategically placed pieces of nylon. The moment I saw her, flashbacks of our night together seared through my mind. Her ass in the air as I drove in behind her, the look on her face when she came. Yup, every part of the last time we “hung out” together came back to me, and it made me feel guilty as fuck.
Those were the kind of memories I needed to wash away, not have at the forefront of my mind, especially when my girl showed up shortly after.
“Is there history there?” Bent pushes on.
My hand falls to my forehead where I rub it a few times before saying, “A little over three months ago, at my buddy’s wedding, we might have hooked up.” Bent nods his head, understanding crossing over his face. “It was nothing really. We were both kind of lost and horny, so we had sex.” I leave out the details of spending the wedding together, the next day, and then the night together. “It was stupid and dumb, but at the time it felt good. We left with a mutual understanding that it was a one-time thing.”
“She knows that?”
I nod. “She does. And she’s chill. But . . . I don’t know, man, I felt uncomfortable having her there. I didn’t want Sage to feel weird.”
“Does Sage know something happened between you and Ryan?”
“No,” I answer quickly. “Fuck no, and I would never tell her. I don’t think that’s something she needs to know. It was one time, and I didn’t even kiss her.” Well, I kissed her, a lot. Everywhere but her mouth.
“You didn’t kiss Ryan? How is that possible?”
I smirk. “We fucked, dude.”
He returns my grin. “Okay. So what’s the problem?”
What is the problem? Exactly what I’ve been asking myself. I don’t have feelings for Ryan. She’s a friend, yeah, and she’s pretty, but that’s the extent of my feelings. It’s pretty shallow, nothing like I feel for Sage right now. But . . .
“I don’t know. I have this feeling like I need to watch over Ryan, make sure she’s going to be okay.”
“Why?”
For someone like Bent who might not have suffered the kind of childhood I have, I understand why he’s missed it, but I haven’t. To me, it’s clear as day. Ryan is damaged, her soul bruised and beaten down. I can see it in her eyes, how she puts on a good show, is fun and outgoing, but deep down, her smile doesn’t reach her heart.
I don’t know why she’s like that, because I have no insight into her past, but what I do know is she carries the same heavy and cracked heart that I do.
“I feel like she needs a friend. A solid friend who’s going to be there for her and guide her. Rory was her rock and without Rory here, I fear Ryan will go down the wrong path.”
“Do you think it’s your responsibility to take care of her?”
“Sort of. I’ve known her for a long time now and even though we haven’t been super close, I still think we’re tied together by our friends, which means she’s my responsibility. I know Rory and Stryder would appreciate it if I watched over her.”
“Then be that friend.”
I scratch my jaw. “You don’t think that will be weird for Sage?”
“Let me ask you this. You’ve been on a few dates with Sage. Does she seem like a girl who you could see yourself with? A girl who would follow you from duty station to duty station, waiting for you to come home, being okay with you missing holidays and birthdays because you’re overseas? Do you think she has what it takes to be an airman’s girlfriend?”
Pretty, sweet, understanding Sage. Does she have what it takes?
She’s put up with my lame dates.
She’s already endured a cancelled night together and me picking her up.
She’s dealt with my crazy schedule thus far, not seeing me much, even though I live only a few houses down from her. Every time I do see her, instead of annoyance, she beams with joy, pulling me into a tight hug. Whether or not it’s because of her brother also being a pilot, she seems to have the ability to quietly accept and respect the responsibilities of an airman. I don’t feel like I need to constantly apologize, and that’s actually a relief. If there is one feeling I remember more than anything else when I was with Rory so many years ago, it was the feeling of guilt. Of my dreams and goals being something that competed with her. And with Sage? Even though things are so new, I don’t feel that same guilt . . . and it feels good.
Do I think she has what it takes? One hundred percent.
“She does. I could see a future with her.” I take a long pull on my beer. “She gets
me, and she gets the lifestyle. And fuck, she knows all about planes. Turns me on, dude.”
He chuckles and shakes his head. “That’s some weird shit.”
“Come on.” I level with him. “If a girl you were dating started talking about the speed an F-35 can fly at and you watched her eyes light up while talking about it, you can’t tell me that isn’t a turn-on.”
Slowly, Bent nods his head. “All right, all right. I get you.”
“See? It’s hot.”
Growing serious again, Bent says, “So if you like her, and you think she could be the one, don’t worry about what she might think of Ryan as your friend. If she likes you, she’s going to deal with all your baggage, and I mean all of it.” After Gramps's funeral, after that whole fucking disastrous week I was in the Springs, Bent was there. Stryder was definitely one of my best friends, but in the last few years through flight school, and on our home assignments and overseas, this man is someone I've come to deeply respect. As an airman. As a man. I trust his opinion and also his wisdom. He knows about my baggage. He knows how much I was screwed up. He knows how much I've changed too. For the better, I hope.
"So, what the hell do I do about Ryan?"
“Be her rock, dude.”
Be her rock. That I can do. And nothing less.
Chapter Seventy-Nine
SAGE
I’m nervous.
Like . . . really nervous.
I convinced Rowdy and Rocky we should have a little barbecue in the backyard and invite all the guys over for steak, grilled veggies, and some of my famous apple crisp. Both men said it was a good idea but instead of inviting everyone over, they wanted to keep the party between us three.
I knew what they were getting at; they didn’t want to share my cooking.
That didn’t go over well. I thought since we haven’t had anyone over since I moved in and made the house look one hundred times better, we should have a get together.
They both informed me that none of the guys would care about the fresh flowers I leave around the house or the three-wick candles I get from Bath & Body Works, even though the house constantly smells like fresh laundry now. I don’t know about the guys, but that’s something I notice when walking into someone else’s house.
Plus . . . this will not only be the first time Colby is coming over to hang out, but it will be the first time I cook for him. Every other date we’ve had he’s either taken me out or he’s cooked, which consisted of spaghetti and meatballs, the first thing he learned how to cook.
The meatballs were so good and the rest tasted just as amazing.
But back to tonight. I’m nervous. I want everything to go right, and because Rocky and Rowdy are the worst roommates ever, there is no counting on them to make sure everything is set and ready to go.
Rowdy comes strolling into the kitchen wearing his usual attire—no shirt and athletic shorts. The first few days I was here, he wore a shirt, but now I don’t think he cares that I’m around. Not that I can complain. Rowdy has a fantastic body. He goes straight to the fridge where he opens the door and starts rifling through the bowls of prepared salads I’ve made. Pasta salad, fruit salad, broccoli salad, and potato salad. Rocky told me the guys like to eat, so I made sure there was plenty on top of the steaks and grilled veggies.
I watch as he carefully starts to lift the Tupperware top off one of the salads and sticks his finger inside the bowl.
“What are you doing?” Sitting in the corner of the kitchen at the little breakfast nook, Rowdy must not have noticed me because he startles, slamming his hand into one of the fridge shelves. He removes his hand and shakes it out while turning toward me.
“Jesus Christ, how long have you been there?”
“Since this morning. I’ve been in this kitchen since this morning.”
“So you’re the one making all the ruckus when I’m trying to get my beauty sleep? Not cool, Sage.”
Irritated, I say, “Did you get ice like I asked last night?”
“Ice? Sure.” He bends at the waist, pulls out the drawer of the freezer, and holds up a tray of twelve cubes. “Ice, check.”
Steam comes out of my nostrils as my breaking point hits me.
I know this was my idea, but I’m doing it for Rocky and Rowdy’s friends; a little help would have been appreciated. Instead, I’ve cleaned the entire house from top to bottom, made all of the food, and even set up a badminton court in the backyard in case anyone feels the need to recreate the volleyball scene from Top Gun but with badminton instead.
All I asked was for ice and beer. Rocky is out getting the beer now, and Rowdy had one job.
“Seriously? How is that supposed to keep beer cold?”
The ice is set down on the counter while he pushes the freezer shut with his foot and goes to a drawer where he pulls out a bunch of cozies, tossing them next to the ice, as if that’s his solution. Turning toward me, leaning against the counter, his hands gripping the quartz, he says, “We’re military, Sage, we improvise. That ice and those cozies will be all we need to survive.”
“I don’t want to survive, Rowdy. I want us to be good hosts.”
He chuckles and bends his head forward, shaking it. “Sage, you realize I’ve hung out with these guys almost every day of my life for the past eight years. We’re past the hosting phase.”
“Well, I’m not, and I’m still new to everyone. I wanted to have a nice gathering for the guys and without ice, I can’t possibly see how we can make this nice.”
He rolls his eyes dramatically. “You realize you’re being irrational?”
I put my hand on my hip and shoot back, “You realize you’re being mean?”
And just like that, his face softens. I see defeat in his eyes as he pushes off the counter, returns the ice tray to the freezer, and starts to walk out the kitchen. “How many bags do you want?”
“Two big ones please. And, Rowdy”—he pauses and turns toward me—“thank you. It means a lot to me.”
“It’s fucking ice, Sage, not a newborn child.” The rattling of keys sound off down the hall followed by the shutting of the front door.
Smiling to myself, I finish my dessert and set it next to the oven in preparation to bake it. This is going to be such a fun party, I can tell.
* * *
“Smells amazing.”
The sound of his voice pulls me from the steaks on the grill to look toward the sliding glass door where Colby stands, all six foot two of masculinity, dressed in khaki cargo shorts and a navy blue polo that fits tightly around his pronounced pecs and thick biceps.
It feels like yesterday when he broke my watermelon in the commissary. Like that day, when I look at him, my breath catches in my throat. He’s stunningly handsome, and I still can’t believe he sees anything in me.
In all honesty, I could see him with a woman like Ryan, who is so beautiful and outgoing and fun. She’s an attention grabber, knows how to make you laugh and have a good time. I’m more reserved, and it shows whenever I’m around him.
Even though we’ve been together for a few weeks now, I still get nervous when he’s near.
He’s mysterious, with his dark brown eyes and sinful stare, it makes me shake in my sandals, especially when his gaze is intent on me with promises in his eyes.
Standing in the doorway of the sliding glass door, he holds me captive. His eyes rake me up and down, taking in my lavender dress and wavy hair that I pinned half up on my head, the other half cascading down my back, brushing against my partially bare shoulders.
He makes no pit stop in his pursuit to wrap his arms around me, and I love how determined his stride is, and how his body is authoritative as he takes the last few steps down the deck. The military oozes out of this man in droves, every time I see him, I’m reminded how he’s been molded and carved into a lean and determined airman. It’s a type of personality I’m attracted to, a man who’s sure of himself and has a set purpose in life.
Taking me in his arms, his large hands on
the small of my back, he leans in and presses his lips gently across my ear, spreading goosebumps over my skin. “You look beautiful.” His voice is gravely, coarse, and sexy.
I anchor myself to his shoulder, holding on, as I feel dizzy with lust. “Thank you,” I answer, my voice just above a whisper.
His lips move from my ear to my jaw then find my mouth. Slowly he nips, his hands keeping me in place—flush against his body—his mouth like magic, pulling me into a little world where there is no one else, just him and me and this palpable spark between us.
“What did I tell you about doing that shit around me?” Rocky asks, stepping into the back yard with a beer in hand, one of Rowdy’s cozies suctioned around the bottom.
Reluctantly, I step away from Colby and go back to the grill where I check on the steaks. “I don’t complain when you have women over here.”
“My house, my rules.” Rocky sips his beer and sits in one of the outdoor dining chairs, propping one leg on his knee.
Colby’s hand falls to my hip as he talks closely to my ear, ignoring my brother. “Can I help with anything?”
Where was this man a few hours ago?
“I’m good for now. Thank you though.” I smile at him, loving the way his brown eyes shine down at me.
He presses one more soft kiss across my lips before saying, “I’m going to grab a beer. Do you want anything?”
“I’m good.”
Colby rubs his thumb across my hip bone and takes off toward the house. When the door shuts, Rocky comes up next to me at the grill.
“Is he being good to you?” He takes a sip of his beer.
“He is. I don’t think you would let him date me if you knew there was a chance he wouldn’t be good to me.”
“That’s true.” He nods. “But it never hurts to make sure, especially after I dropped the ball on the last one.”
“You can’t blame yourself for what Drake did to me.”
“He cheated on you, Sage. I can blame myself for not seeing the kind of person he was, for not being there for you.”
The Duets Page 64