“Thank you,” she said, then her phone rang, and she was gone, whisked off to whatever crisis demanded her attention next.
“Don’t stress,” Grayson said. “I’ve got your back.”
I nodded, gratitude sneaking in. Then my phone buzzed, and I swiped at it without looking.
Sorry I missed your call. Flight just landed.
My chest eased out instantly. Sage was back home. Relief, heat, everything mixed into one sharp spike of happiness.
“Catch you around,” I said, already moving, needing out of the hallway, out of the noise, and somewhere I could actually breathe.
*
The take-out boxes were warm between us, steam curling up and fogging the low-hung pendant light in Sage’s living room. I had set them on the coffee table, a small victory of order in the middle of the clutter that made her apartment feel like home. She dug into her noodles like she hadn’t eaten in days, eyes bright as she took me through her time in Denver.
“So,” I said, when the conversation had reached a natural lull. “There’s this charity gala happening in a few days. The team has to make an appearance.”
“Ooh, fancy.”
“I want you to be my date.”
She paused mid-bite, looking at me like I’d grown antlers. Then her lips twitched. “Your date? As in you want me to put on a dress and heels?”
I’d never thought about that part. “Now that you mention it… I’d kinda love to see you all dressed up.”
Sage tilted her head, amusement flickering across her face. “Well, I’m happy to go with you, but just so we’re clear, I am by no means a WAG.”
I laughed at the mention of the term, but more her tone of voice when she pushed it out. “Promise. No WAG-ing. I just want you there. You, looking amazing, in a dress and heels. You wear them, don’t you?”
Sage rolled her eyes and waved a hand like the concept was offensive. “It’s my sacrifice to keep the male population from imploding. Trust me. They wouldn’t be able to handle me in a dress.”
“You make a solid argument.”
She smirked and shoved a forkful of noodles in her mouth, chewing with deliberate defiance. I felt a rush of relief I hadn’t realized I needed. She was taking this viral fame thing with a pinch of salt, exactly like I’d hoped.
I leaned over and kissed her, her mouth tugging into a grin before our lips met fully. Noodles, sauce, the warmth of the room—it all blurred behind the simple gravity of her. My hand cupped the side of her face, and she leaned into me, lips moving against mine, breath quick, pulse skipping.
We lost track of the take-out boxes, the gala, any sign of an outside world as our mouths properly claimed each other in the quiet of her living room. The first real kiss since she’d left for Denver.
Then her phone rang.
Sage sighed and grabbed her phone, but then her face instantly dropped. My eyes flicked to the screen.
Mom.
She just stared at the name there without answering, her body tense and stiff beneath me.
I pressed a soft kiss to her temple. “It’ll be okay. I’m here.”
She exhaled, a long quiet breath, then nodded almost imperceptibly. I rolled off her, lying down beside her on the couch, but pulling her close so she could feel my steady presence.
“Hi.”
A pause. “I guess so.”
Another pause. “I guess so. Fine.”
She set the phone down and snuggled into me, her head wedged under my chin as her fingers traced idle patterns acrossmy chest. I couldn’t see her face, so had no idea what she was thinking or feeling.
