by Bria Quinlan
She glanced away as if she wasn’t sure she could believe what he was telling her. Sage didn’t want to make it about him. He didn’t want to use a lot of needless words to explain to her exactly how he felt at the moment. She’d mentioned not wanting to be pitied. And he didn’t. Pity wasn’t even in the realm of what he was feeling. It was a whole lot of respect with a dash of admiration and a dollop of humility. He pressed on.
“I’m going to need a coffee.” He fished his dollars out of his pockets. “And then I’m going to sit over there.” He nodded to his usual table. “And if you have a minute at all”—he held her eyes and gave her his best crooked smile—“I would enjoy your company for any seconds you have to spare.” He spotted Abby hovering near the kitchen door, so he waved a hand at her. She gave him a look that made it clear if there were sides, she knew which one she was on.
Emily made his coffee, took his money, and he did exactly as he said he was going to do. It didn’t take more than ten minutes before she slid into the chair across from him and rested her chin on her fist, elbow to the table, attempting (and failing) to hide her smile.
“I thought maybe you didn’t want to deal with…everything,” she blurted out.
Sage chuckled. “No. The gang of thugs you choose to do business with aren’t enough to scare me off. I’m much braver than you give me credit for.”
Her blues eyes danced and her smile grew even as her blush did, too. “You know what I mean.”
He nodded; he did know. He glanced over to Abby behind the counter. “You didn’t, by chance, happen to show...?”
Emily pursed her lips and avoided eye contact.
“Right.” Sage nodded, accepting the inevitable remarks that would be made in the future. “So, I was wondering,” he started out, trying to sound as casual as possible. “For our next non-date, would you be interested in letting me surprise you?”
She narrowed her eyes but didn’t look as fearful as she would have, say, a week ago.
“Now, before you answer, I want to give you some more details.”
“Okaay,” she drew out slowly, amusement touching the corners of her mouth.
Sage nodded sternly and pressed his palms to the table. “I would pick you up and feed you and get you back home safe. I will also promise intelligent conversation and an appropriate number of topical jokes.” He gave her a flat stare. “I cannot stress enough how much this isn’t a date, despite how it sounds. This is me being purely selfish and just wanting to eat food and have conversation with a girl who I think is totally kickass.”
She smiled hugely and Sage sighed.
“You know, after I said all of that, I hear it. It does sound like a date.”
“You think?” she asked, her eyebrows lifting.
Sage dropped his flat expression and grinned. “Okay. Maybe not, then. Maybe the thing that sounds like a date happens later.” He took a deep breath, lost a little in her glow. “Just say when.”
19
Emily
“You’re going to have to just go out with him.” Abby was greasing a pan with what I really hoped wasn’t lard, leaning against the kitchen doorway.
“What?” I wasn’t actually playing dumb. Abby just confused me that much.
She nodded her head toward the front door Sage had just rambled out of.
“Him. You’re going to have to just go out with him. On a date. A date you call a date.”
“I—”
“Listen,” she interrupted. “I’ve been through this too many times. You people come in here and have no clue how to run your own lives. You’d think love was this commodity you had to save for. Maybe earn up enough to get some later. Don’t worry about this guy. Either you’ll save enough for an upgrade or once you do some research on whatever you think the Consumer Reports of Love is, you’ll circle around and he’ll just be waiting for you to get your act together.”
“That’s—”
“And, I’m kind of not going through the whole rigmarole with you.” Abby put the pan down. “I get it. I totally get it. Trust me. I get it so much you wouldn’t even believe me. I’m not sure what your past is. John is way too good a guy to do that—to either of us. But, you can’t just swish away from something good.”
I stared at her, completely bewildered by this version of Abby.
“I’m not swishing.” Because, that was really the only thing I felt qualified to answer right off the bat.
“Uh-huh.” Abby gave me the oddest smile and nodded toward my phone. “Just text him and let him off the hook.”
With that, she wandered back in the kitchen.
I stood at the counter, rag in hand, staring at the door Sage had walked through moments ago and wondering…
Wondering if Abby was right, and risk was worth it. Wondering if Sage was safe and I could trust him. Wondering if now, with everything going on in my life, was really the time to take that risk.
Wondering if I was worth the risk.
I didn’t let myself over think it. I just did it.
I picked up the phone, brought up his number, and texted him.
And, I even hit send.
20
Sage
Emily: OK
Sage: OK?
Emily: Yes. OK.
Sage: Did you mean to text me? This is Sage.
Emily: I know.
Sage stared at the screen on his phone. The time stamp said Emily had sent it shortly after he’d left The Brew, but he hadn’t checked his phone until he’d parked in Luke Casey’s driveway.
That was all it said. Just “OK.” No context.
He was still staring at the screen when he came into the garage. He nodded to the greetings of Sway and Mike, but didn’t look up. They were supposed to be adding the bass track to the drum track that they’d finally settled on. Sage set the phone down on the console and began turning the switches.
Ok, what?
If she had meant to send it someone else, who was it meant for? And what was Emily agreeing to? “OK” was an agreement of some kind. Right?
“How’s it going with the coffee girl?” Mike asked from the couch behind him.
Sage turned around and shook his head. “What does ‘OK’ mean?”
Mike's eyebrows dipped. Sage snatched the phone off the console and handed it to the drummer.
“Ooh, can I see?” Sway asked, sitting down on the arm of the couch and looking down at the phone in Mike’s possession.
“Okay what?” Mike asked, handing the phone back.
Sage shrugged again; it felt more frantic than the last one. “I have no idea. The second non-date went...well.” Sage wasn’t going to reveal Emily’s secrets to these guys or his near-death experience with the Pound Puppies, even though they were basically his closest friends these days. How weird was it that his former idols had turned into his friends? Really freaking weird. Too bad he didn’t have time to think over all of that right now. “I saw her this morning before I came out here.”
“This morning?” Sway's eyebrows went up. “Did last night go very well?”
Sage glared at the bassist. “You’re hilarious.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I have no idea what she could be OKing to. I’m trying to remember everything we talked about in the previous twenty-four hours, but I appear to have blocked almost all of it out.”
“Almost?”
“I remember her smile,” Sage clarified, trying to press his lips together to keep from grinning like an idiot.
“Ask her.” Mike crossed his arms over his chest.
Sage: What are you OKing to?
“While we wait for Miss Emily to reply and confirm what I already know,” Sway said, arching a single eyebrow, “can we try out my track? I’m feeling funky. I want to funk it all up in here.”
Sage jerked his head slightly. “What do you already know?”
Sway stood up and headed for the recording room. “You’re in dating purgatory. That super-fun middle ground between non-dates and actual dates.�
�
Sage stared at the space Sway vacated, wondering if that were true. Was this just a transitional period? Was this the space where two people decided to invest in a future? Because if they started to real-date instead of non-date, it put a whole lot more on the line.
Emily: I’m saying OK to you.
Emily: And your idea.
He couldn’t stop it that time; he full-on grinned at his phone. Like an idiot. Then he handed the reply to Mike.
“Clearly, you had an idea and she is OK with it,” Mike said with a chuckle, handing the phone back.
Sage tossed the phone onto the console and bent in half, the fingers of both hands sliding into his hair. “Why am I so scared I’m going to screw this entire thing up? We’re not even a thing.” He sat back up and slapped his hands onto his knees. “And yet the idea of us not being a thing feels ludicrous.”
Mike’s mouth tugged up on one side.
“The more I learn about her, the more time I spend with her, I just...” Sage closed his eyes and shook his head. “She’s better than me. And when I’m with her, I feel like the two of us have an honest shot at something amazing. And it’s freaking me out.”
“You’re in it deep.” Mike confirmed what Sage already knew.
“I spent years with Heather,” Sage said, his stomach twisting. “I wasn’t ever worried about losing her. I assumed if we ended, it would be because it was time.” He sighed heavily. “And now I’m freaking out about losing a girl I haven’t even been able to real-date yet.” Something clicked in his memory. “Wait a second.” He grabbed his phone again and typed out a quick reply.
Sage: Are you saying OK to a date?
Holy crap. If she was saying yes to a real date...
“Hey. Loverboy, let’s roll tape,” Sway interrupted Sage’s thought explosion.
Sage turned around and cued up the drum track, waited for Sway’s nod, then hit record and play.
A real date could—no, would, because Sage recognized early on that Emily wasn’t the kind of girl you let things fizzle with—a real date would lead to a relationship, which would lead to...everything.
Sage was completely fine with that.
EMILY
“For the love of everything with sugar in it, put it away or I’ll take it away.” Abby glared. She was a pro, but this one seemed a little more glarey than normal.
But, I couldn’t help it, I smiled at her because… “You sound like a mom.”
Not that I’d really know too much about that firsthand, but she did. She sounded like a mom.
The look she gave me then only reinforced the mom thing…horror, but still mom.
“I mean it.” She pointed at the phone.
I giggled. She meant it.
“Stop that.”
I covered my mouth, trying not to laugh at Mom Abby.
“If I have to—” She cut herself off, obviously knowing where that was going before I could even point it out.
“Are you going to pull this café over?” I asked, trying to keep a straight face.
Without another word, she spun around and stormed into the kitchen.
I glanced down at the text Sage had just sent.
Was I saying okay to a date? That seemed so official.
Maybe a baby-step chance would be a better start.
EMILY: I’m saying we could hang out.
SAGE: So, a date.
I tried not to roll my eyes at my phone.
EMILY: Hang out. Gotta go.
I turned my phone off before this could get ridiculous.
SAGE
“Impossible,” Sage muttered at his phone. Emily could ride a unicycle through The Brew, wearing a sombrero and juggling kittens, and he’d still be enamored with her. He bit his lower lip, that now familiar warmth spreading through his chest again.
She was giving him a chance.
She was giving them a chance.
All Sage had to do was not screw it up.
“So what did she say?” Mike asked. He’d moved to take the seat next to Sage when Harrison had joined them a minute before. He had also taken it upon himself to update Harrison on Sage’s current dating obstacles. It was bizarre how interested they all were. Though, now that they all had their “one,” they seemed to be focused on making sure others found their “one.”
Sage flipped the toggles that would save the length of tape they had recorded. He slid his phone with one hand along the console in Mike’s direction, Emily’s reply still lit up on the screen.
“Gentlemen, we have a date in play,” Mike announced to the room. He slid the phone back and lifted his chin at Sage. “Where are you gonna take her?”
Sage’s mind swirled with possibilities. He didn’t want to do anything too flashy since he was aware of her sensitivities toward money and what a distraction it might be for a first date. A first date should be fun and exciting. At the same time, he didn’t want to be a total doofus and go too far the other direction.
“I have an idea.”
21
Emily
I stared at my closet—otherwise known as the bar that ran across one corner of the dining room I hung my clothes on—trying to figure out what to wear.
I didn’t want to think too hard about it, but at the same time I wanted to put some effort in.
Megan stood near the break in the furniture, holding up one of her club dresses with Ash hovering behind her, shaking her short curls wildly.
Man, I’d kill for those curls. They were all chestnutty and bouncy. She managed to look classic and hip at the same time with the ice-blue tint woven through. A perfect juxtaposition to Megan’s adorableness.
“Em, do you like the dress or not?”
“Sorry. I got lost in the splendor of Ash’s hair.”
Ash tussled the curls on one side, giving me her best Mae West grin. “I can’t help it. I distract all the girls.”
“Annnnd, no. Today is about Emily.” Megan gave her a shove. “Put your ego away.”
My roommates were nothing if not girls with big personalities.
Man, I loved those two.
“You really don’t know where you’re going?” Ash asked as she brushed by Megan, holding out a dress I absolutely was not putting on my body.
“Nope. He said casual and comfortable.” I pulled my favorite jeans back out of the jean cubby.
“Guy casual is not girl casual.” Megan all but stomped her foot.
I really should not have told her I’d kind of agreed to a kind-of date.
“I don’t think Sage would take me somewhere not casual.” I pulled a brush through my hair, looking at my meager assortment of clothes tossed all over my bed.
“So, he’s cheap?” Megan sounded put out by this—as if she were the one going out and had just been told dinner would be at Burger King.
“No. He said ‘It’s fun and super casual, but I think you’ll get a kick out of it.’ Not like he made it sound cheap.” But what did I know?
I pulled on my favorite jeans and glanced around.
“Fine. Jeans.” Megan took all my dresses—the usual Emily Uniforms—and hung them back up. “But you’re wearing Ash’s emerald-green third-date shirt, then.”
“How do you know that’s my third-date shirt?” Ash asked, looking more surprised than anything.
“I’ve been living with you for three years. I know you.”
“You know my clothes,” Ash mumbled as she went to get the drape’y, green gorgeousness.
I pulled the shirt over my head, rolling my eyes at the up-and-down both girls gave me before nodding to themselves.
“You look great.”
“Great in my shirt.”
“No. She just looks great.”
“Yes. She always does. But right now, she’s looking great in my shirt. My third-date shirt.” Ash crossed her arms. “The shirt you volunteered without asking.”
Oh, crap.
“I can wear something else.” I was already pulling the shirt back up and
looking for something else to put on.
“No.” Ash shook her head. “I want you to wear the shirt.”
“But—”
“She,” Ash interrupted me, pointing at Megan, “has been stealing my clothes for years. Years. Now she’s stealing them for someone else.”
I untucked the shirt again.
“Stop. What are you doing?” Ash waved at me to tuck the shirt back in.
This was not the drama I expected tonight.
“Okay, so basically you want me to wear the shirt, but you wish you’d thought of it or I’d asked, and not that Megan had just told you to go get it?”
“Right.” She gave a quick nod before turning it into a side-eye glare at Megan.
“While I’m out tonight, you guys should get some roommate therapy or something.”
The buzzer sounded by the door and I thought, Literally. Saved by the bell.
“Okay, well, thanks for distracting me with your own personal issues and neuroses while I waited.”
I grabbed a sweater while they continued to bicker. Those two were amazingly tight for people who seemed to have nothing in common.
I raced down the stairs, my heart pounding while I tried to figure out what to think. But thinking about thinking was giving me a headache fast, so I decided non-thinking thoughts would be good.
Which…Emily. Shut up.
I pasted on a smile and opened the door.
Sage stood there, back to the door, looking down the walkway like a man not sure he was in the right place.
And then I saw them.
A tiny pack of tiny dogs being walked very slowly by an elderly woman.
“We can wait here till it’s safe.” I tried to keep the laughter out of my voice, but…seriously. Tiny dogs. The guy went head-to-head with rock stars on a daily basis and was afraid of things that couldn’t even reach his knees if they tried to hop.
