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Sage nods quietly, her eyes closing.
“Sleep, Wise Sage. I’ve got you.”
I trail a finger down the side of her face, from her temple to her jaw. I hold her neck, feeling her even heartbeat beneath my palm.
I lose track of time as I watch her sleep. Her chest slowly lifts with each breath. I lean forward and press a soft kiss to her forehead. She’s perfect, and I refuse to let her get sick over this deal we made. There’s still no guarantee my parents will give me the money, so I could let Sage off the hook. Her health has to be more important.
Maybe then we can start over.
I take a deep breath, wrapping both of my hands around one of hers. Her other hand is tucked under her head. I rub my thumb back and forth against her smooth skin, wondering what the future has in store for us.
Could it be that she’s a temporary stop on my path in life?
That idea lands like a ton of bricks in my stomach.
A soft tap on the door tears my attention away from my sleeping beauty. Sage’s mom stands by the doorway with a small smile.
“Why don’t you come have some coffee with me and let her rest?”
I nod, wishing she wasn’t right. Standing, I look at Sage for a long beat before walking out of her room.
I’ll be here when she wakes up. I’ll make sure of it.
18
Sage
I feel like a truck ran over me, and then I got horrible flu. My joints hurt so much. Staying in bed for an indeterminate amount of time sounds lovely. But other parts of my body are forcing me to get out of bed.
I gingerly stand, take a deep breath, and make my way to the bathroom. Once I’m done, I drag my feet to the living room to check on my mom. I pause, eyes widening when I reach the entrance. He stayed.
Tristan is sitting on the couch holding a mug. My mom is on the armchair across from him with her signature Mom mug. Both are softly laughing and whispering. I look behind me and back at them. Did I suddenly enter a portal to a different world?
This is . . . I don’t know what it is, but it’s sure to complicate things now that my mom has actually had a conversation with him.
The sight of him in my house makes my stomach flip. The spark of hope that’s been slowly dying flickers with possibility.
How long has he been here anyway? I’ve lost track of time since he came to my room to bring me tea.
“Uh, hi?” I interrupt their quiet conversation.
Two pairs of eyes look at me with concern lining them. Tristan’s brows pull together, and he leaps to his feet, placing his mug on the coffee table.
“What’s going on?” My eyes bounce between them.
“We’re having coffee and getting to know each other.” My mom smiles.
I know that smile. It’s the one when she approves of someone. This is bad.
“What are you doing out of bed?” Tristan walks toward me, wrapping an arm around my waist and taking on most of my weight.
“I needed to use the bathroom and then came out to see my mom.” I arch a brow.
“You should get more rest.” His lips are pressed in a straight line. I’m tempted to separate them with my thumb so that they relax.
I’d roll my eyes if the very act didn’t hurt. If I do it mentally, it still counts.
“I’m okay. I’ve slept a ton. What time is it?” I notice it’s twilight through the window.
