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Fourteen
Sage
“So what was his reward?”Harper asks, winking at me. We’re out for coffee Monday morning. We’re supposed to be reviewing some marketing plans and some design elements, but as usual, our meeting has turned into a love life gossip session. And the focus is, as usual, me.
“Nothing. I just said thank you.”
“With your body?” Harper asks, giggling.
“Harper, really. Are you fifteen?”
“Sage, really, are you a hundred? Come on. You know the man only drove the whole way over because he thought returning your cat would score him some points.”
“And it did. I was very appreciative.”
“So you didn’t think about jumping his bones? Not once?” she asks.
I roll my eyes, taking a sip of coffee. Harper is easily distracted. Maybe she’ll change the subject. After a long swallow of coffee, though, she’s still sitting across from me, blinking. I sigh.
“Okay, yes, he smelled amazing. And his outfit looked good. I’d sort of forgotten how good he looks. But it was just physical, nothing more.”
“So why didn’t you invite him to stay, to get physical?”
“Because. I don’t want him getting any ideas.”
“What? Like that you like him?”
“I don’t like him.”
She raises an eyebrow at me. I can’t lie. Even I can hear how weak my assurance is.
“Look, he seems like an okay guy. But you know I don’t have time for this. What, are we going to spend the summer going out to dinner and to the movies? He’ll buy me flowers, and I’ll confess my love to him… and then what? We’ll spend maybe six months or a year together; we’ll get bored or fight over money or realize we’re not compatible, and it’ll be over? I’ll be crying into a tub of ice cream, buy another cat to cover my sadness, and think about all the wasted time and effort? What’s the point? Why not just skip over it all, enjoy the fun parts, and forget about the rest?”
“I swear, Sage Everling, you should’ve been a man. You are the most emotionless woman I know.”
“Thanks.”
“I mean it. Don’t you ever want to just let your heart go? To experience passion and loyalty and connection? Don’t you ever feel like that’s missing?”
I consider her words for a minute. “Yeah. But then I remember the other assholes I gave a chance. I think about how many months I cried over Kevin and how many times I got pissed over Mark. I think about all the suffering, all the distraction, and I realize this whole sex and nothing more thing is perfect.”
“Well, I don’t care what you say. Cash Creed isn’t like Kevin or Mark. For one, he’s way hotter. And two, I think he could keep you interested much longer than a year. Plus, I think no matter what you tell yourself, you’re interested. You like him. So stop being all crazy.”
I stir my coffee, wondering why my chest feels heavy. I hate this. I hate that Harper’s sort of right. I hate that all night last night, I was in bed thinking about how things could be different if I’d have asked the question I wanted to ask, if I’d have asked Cash to stay. I think about what it would’ve been like to wake up in his arms this morning, to make breakfast for him and to drink coffee on the balcony. I think about how good it would feel to share my fears and worries, my dreams for Evermore with someone besides just my employees.
I brush it off. It’s stupid. It’s senseless. Even if I could get over this whole fear, who says he could?
“It doesn’t matter, anyway,” I say. “Because I’m going out tonight.”
“With who?”
“That PR manager from our fabric distributor, Steven. He’s going to the club tonight, some party. Asked if I want to stop by.”
“Wait, is this that hippie-trippy guy with the long black ponytail?”
“That’s him.”
“He’s so not your type.”
