Oh God.“Okay.”
“I know I don’t have any right to ask this, not when you could do a hundred times better than me, but…fuck, Hurricane. Give me a chance? Give us a chance? Stay here. Don’t move out. We can be friends for now, but maybe someday we could be something more. I’m just asking you to be open to that.”
I’m stunned. He thinks I could do better than him? He thinks…No.No, he can’t. “You’ve got it backward. You deserve so much more than what I could give you. I don’tknow how to be in a relationship, how to commit to someone. I’m a mess.”
His jaw tightens as he lifts a hand to cup my cheek. “There’s so much wrong with what you just said, but I won’t argue with you. Not right now, at least. But know this: I want to be with you, mess and all.”
Heat blooms up my throat. My lips part on a shaky breath as I cover his hand with one of my own. He leans in slowly, then pauses. I have to make the decision of whether or not this goes any further.
My heart is hammering in my chest. Then I close the distance.
Our mouths meet. It’s soft at first, tentative. I want to press into him, get lost in him.
After just a few seconds, Brady makes a noise in the back of his throat and takes the kiss deeper until it’s pulling me under, like a tide. This is a kiss that whispers of promises I don’t dare let myself believe.
I break away on a gasp, my lips tingling, pulse racing. My fingers lift to touch my mouth as we stare at each other, the air heavy and electrified.
Pushing back from the table, I stand on unsteady legs.
“I’m pretty tired, so I think I’m just gonna go to bed. Thanks for dinner,” I say hurriedly. Then, like a complete coward, I disappear down the hall to my room, close the door, and throw myself on the bed.
I cover my face with my hands as if that can somehow hide me from the hurricane of emotions whipping up a frenzy in my mind.
Of course, I would picture a hurricane…
Grabbing a pillow, I muffle a quiet scream. I want him way more than I should. But wanting him and letting myself have him are two very different things. I wasn’t lying when I told him I didn’t know how to be the woman he deserves.
I don’t know how to be the woman who stays, who has a home and a life with another person. Because the only other person I’ve had that with died.
But sometime later, when I finally hear his footsteps coming down the hall, my breath gets stuck in my throat. He pauses outside my door, and I clutch the pillow even tighter.
There’s a muffled noise that sounds suspiciously like his head or his fist hitting the door, and then my name, growled low, and filled with emotion.
“Sage, let me in.”
He’s not just talking about my room. And damn it, I’m tired of fighting with myself over what I feel for him. I want to let down my guard and take what he’s offering. I’m terrified of hurting him, and of being hurt myself, but I’m not terrified of him.
“Come in.”
21
SAGE
The doorto my bedroom opens slowly, and Brady fills the frame. He lifts one arm over his head, placing his hand on the frame and leaning into it.
“What was that about?” he asks.
Mutely, I shrug.
He takes a step into my room. “No, I'm not going to let you avoid this. No more running. What was that out there? You kissed me.”
“And you kissed me back,” I blurt without thinking.
“Fucking right, I did,” he says, followed by a low chuckle. “I couldn't hold back any longer. Do you have any idea how hard it's been these last couple of weeks? Watching you, being so near to you, but not being able to touch you?”
His voice is raw, and full of emotion. Full of yearning.
“Brady,” I whisper. He steps closer and I scramble up to sitting, still holding the pillow to my stomach.
