Something that might wreck me.
Or save me.
And I’m not sure which one I’m more afraid of.
Chapter Six
MARLEY
Walking into Sage’s house with Nitro behind me feels surreal, like I’ve accidentally stumbled into an alternate universe where gorgeous, tattooed men who sleep in their cars to make sure you’re safe are a regular part of my Sunday morning.
His presence fills the tiny entryway, and I’m suddenly hyperaware of how small Sage’s place is. Or maybe it’s just that Nitro is massive, taking up space in a way that’s both intimidating and oddly comforting.
I’m wearing my oversized hoodie and pajama pants. My hair is a disaster that I pulled into a messy ponytail without looking in a mirror, and I’m pretty sure there’s mascara smudged under my glasses from last night’s drunk crying.
But when Nitro looks at me, none of that seems to matter.
He stayed.
He slept in his car outside, like some protective guardian angel who also happened to look like he could bench press a Buick, and then, when I found him this morning with coffee, he just smiled at me as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
Derek wouldneverhave done that.
Derek wouldn’t have even answered the phone.
I shake off the comparison. I’m done measuring every man against that particular dumpster fire and lead Nitro toward the kitchen.
The scene that greets us is both completely normal and utterly surreal.
Sage is at the stove, still in her pajamas, tiny shorts and an oversized T-shirt that says,‘I’m not arguing, I’m just explaining why I’m right,’ wielding a spatula as if it’s a weapon whileshe flips pancakes. Her blonde hair is piled on top of her head in what can only be described as a nest, and she’s wearing sunglasses indoors because, in her words from earlier this morning,“The sun is personally attacking me.”
She glances over her shoulder as we enter, and despite the sunglasses, I feel her assessing Nitro with the intensity of a Secret Service agent.
“Morning, sunshine,” I say, moving to the coffee pot to refill both our mugs.
“Morning,” Sage mumbles, then turns fully to face Nitro. She points the spatula at him. “You! Uber man. Why did you sleep in your car?”
Nitro doesn’t even blink at her aggressive interrogation. “Wanted to make sure you two were okay.”
“That’s weird.”
“Probably,” he replies as though it doesn’t bother him.
“But… also kind of sweet.”
A slight grin crosses his face.
I bite back a smile as I watch them size each other up. Sage has always been protective of me, especially with Derek, and seeing her in full guard-dog mode, visibly hungover, is both endearing and slightly terrifying.
“If you burn those pancakes,” Nitro says, his voice that low rumble that does things to my insides, “I’m staging an intervention.”
Sage whips back around to the stove. “Bite me, Uber man. I’m a culinary genius.”
“You’re wearing sunglasses, and you just put salt in the orange juice.”
Sage glances down at her orange juice and the salt container sitting next to the sugar. “That was intentional. It’s for electrolytes.”
“That’s not how electrolytes work,” he states.
