Full lips; so much fuller than he remembered , though always perfectly shaped, were now plump to the point of begging to be tasted. Her breasts swelled, pushing against the thin silk of her shirt, making him question whether or not they were hers—something he wanted to discover.
And her ass, fuck, she’d felt fantastic in his hand, perfectly filling his large palm.
He’d never stopped loving that girl—woman—and now he wanted to make love to her like mad, wanted to make up for all the years he hadn’t been worshipping her body, loving every inch of that alabaster skin, tracing each line of her—
Arm still extended palm up, she displayed her secret for him, her defiant gaze a challenge. Amid the bruises, lines crisscrossed the pale skin of her forearm; blood dripped from the freshest wounds, but many were closed up in various points of healing, from old scars to recent scabs.
Her other hand cradled a razor blade, a trickle of blood defacing the sharp edge.
—scars. The memory of their first meeting flooded his mind, whipping his heart against his rib cage. He’d forgotten. No, he hadn’t forgotten, he’d just not wanted to remember.
Recalling the torment of her childhood made it even more unbearable to acknowledge how he’d turned his back on her, how he’d selfishly chosen to create the life everyone thought he deserved, rather than giving Sage the life she deserved.
He hated himself for that. Fucking hated himself.
He pulled the top off a bottle of Jack and pushed the glass aside, forgoing manners and swigging straight from the bottle. He hadn’t drunk himself to forgetting since the divorce papers had been drawn up. Getting out of that miserable marriage had proven all the euphoria he needed, and drinking had returned to a social thing, something he did on occasion with friends, or to celebrate a winning swim meet—no longer a hobby he’d partake in nightly.
But tonight…as his mind drowned in the memories of the woman he’d never forget, the woman he’d never forgive himself for losing, he’d drown his body in amber, liquid fire.
Tomorrow he’d devise a plan to get her back.
But tonight…tonight he’d blur the painful memories of the day she walked away from him and never looked back. All because he was too much of a coward to ask her to stay.
“I tried to forget you, too, Sage.”
Tig and his friends turned the corner of the building, passing the football field on their way to the swimming pool—clear on the other side of the gym. He hated the detour, wanted to get straight to swimming, but his buddies wanted to check out the cheerleaders, and he had to make his obligatory rounds there as well, especially since he’d been dating the head cheerleader since eighth grade.
Movement beneath the bleachers caught his eye, and he turned to see one of the potheads shrouded in shadow. She wore all black from head to toe, from the blue-black hair dye, to the ratty old Chuck Taylors on her feet—the only splash of color her hot pink bangs. She wasn’t familiar, but when had Tig ever really paid any mind to the stoners anyway? He began to look away, assuming she hid there to get lit up like the other losers he’d seen hanging out beneath the bleachers before, but something drew his attention back to her arms.
Crimson blood ran down the length of one forearm—not just a little; enough to warrant stitches, or bandages, or something. He stopped dead in his tracks. Her dark eyes met his, and she sneered, but he didn’t look away. Couldn’t look away.
“Yo! Tig! You comin’ or what?”
He waved his friends on, speechless for a few long seconds. Without breaking his gaze away from the girl, he called, “I’ll meet you guys at practice!”
They continued on, more focused on what the cheer team had beneath their skirts than what distracted their friend so thoroughly. But Tig wasn’t surprised—he’d wondered for a long while now if any of them really gave two shits about him, or if they just hung out with him because of his academic and athletic accomplishments.
He ducked under the bleachers and slowly made his way toward her.
As he neared, her eyes never left his, her gaze never wavered, and his heart beat faster. Beneath all that makeup, the scowl, and the weird safety pins in her ears, this girl was fucking gorgeous.
“Take a picture; it’ll last longer, creep.”
Her voice. Bloody hell, that voice. Like scratchy sandpaper draped in velvet. The sun glinted off her lips, and he pulled his gaze away from those storm-cloud eyes for the first time, noticing a lip ring hanging from her bottom lip.
He wanted to kiss her.
Tig hadn’t had such an absurd thought in his entire cookie-cutter life, but right then, in the shadowed seclusion of the bleachers, yards away from his friends and his perfectly popular girlfriend, Brandon Tiggs could think of nothing else but kissing that black-haired beauty; parting those glittering, blood red lips with his tongue….
Blood red. Blood.
He remembered why he’d first been drawn to her, and glanced down at her arms. Shock mixed with revulsion, causing his stomach to coil, before a split second later he realized something else was there. Another feeling. The desire, no, need, to protect her.
A desire so strong it made his hands twitch reflexively.
Tig awoke with a start, sending the half-downed bottle of Jack crashing to the floor of the living room. His heart thumped wildly in his chest, his breaths whooshing in and out in quick succession. He swiped at his eyes, bringing his hand away wet.
Seeing Sage like that ripped him apart all over again. He’d been crying in his sleep.
The bruises, the cuts…it took all his self-control not to get in his car and drive to her, search the town until he found her. He’d pound on the door until she woke up, then push his way inside and take her in his arms. He’d hold her, kiss her, make love to her the way he’d dreamed about for the past nine years.
It took every ounce of strength he had in him to stay put.
Because every cell of his body needed to feel her against him.
That day all those years ago…that first time he looked into her eyes, really looked…she’d let him in. An arrogant athlete with the perfect life. A guy who would have walked right past her in the halls on any other day. For some reason, one he gave up trying to understand years ago, she let him in.
And that moment had changed him forever.
He’d become lost in those thunderous eyes and seen past the façade.
She wasn’t tough, she was terrified. She wasn’t bitterness and rage, she was chaos and vulnerability.
She was tormented perfection.
And at that moment, he’d no longer wanted to kiss her.
He’d wanted more than that. He’d wanted to save her.
He fell in love with Sage Shepard, right then and there.
He hadn’t even known her name.
Sage stepped into her office Tuesday morning, deciding—or at least telling herself she’d decided—that Day Two of her new profession would be much less eventful. She’d done a pretty good job with Jimmy last night, then again this morning, and though he seemed reluctant to accept it, she thought she’d said enough to make him believe that absolutely nothing would happen between her and—
“Good morning, Sage.”
—Brandon Tiggs. Dammit. Her breath rushed in on a gasp, and she knew he’d heard it too. Double dammit.
She looked up to her office doorway, wishing she had closed and locked the door—not that it would do much good because of all the friggin’ windows—cursing her stupid heart for the way it fluttered against her ribs at the sight of him. She swore he looked even better than yesterday, though his eyes were red-rimmed and, well, actually, “You look like crap.”
His eyes widened, followed almost immediately by the grin she loved so much. That smile didn’t drop panties, it melted them.
And it was about a heartbeat away from melting hers right off her body.
She cleared her throat, dangerously close to adjusting in her seat and giving away the mind-numbing affect he still had on her.
Professionalism. That’s what she needed right now. Professionalism. She could swing that, no problem. “Um, I’m sorry. That was terribly rude of me. Good morning, Brand—Coach Tiggs. How can I help you?”
He quickly made his expression one of seriousness, bringing his lips into a firm line, and she had the fleeting thought that he’d actually be able to stick to a strictly business relationship. She ignored the surge of disappointment she felt at that concept, because before she could even address the feeling, he licked his lips and smiled again, mischief and promises written all over his scruffy face.
Good lord. He’s trying to undo me right in this seat.
“Have dinner with me tonight.”
“No.” Huh. That had been easier than she expected.
“I see you’re still as stubborn as all get out.”
She glared. “And I see you’re still”—she quickly glanced to his hand—“where’s your ring?”
“I told you. That marriage has been over a long time.”
Sage tilted her head. “Why were you still wearing it?”
He strode to her desk, then leaned down, splaying his palms on the surface. She couldn’t help but notice the tan line left on his ring finger. With his face just inches away from hers, he licked his lips, and warmth shot south. She sucked in a breath, suddenly drowning in his closeness, but that deep breath didn’t help because now she smelled him.
“Dammit, Brand.” Her voice was breathless, throaty, so exactly the damn opposite of strictly business. “Why were you still wearing it?” She was surprised by her ability to speak with his closeness making her insides mush, and his familiar scent daring her to press her nose into the center nook of his collar bone. Her eyes flicked to that spot without her permission.
She inhaled again, then brought her gaze back to his.
His green eyes locked her in place. “I don’t know, Sage. Comfort? Habit? Does it matter? I took it off. We’re not together. I’ll cut off the damn finger if it will help you believe me. I live alone. Come have dinner with me on Friday.”
For years, she’d dreamt of the day when she’d see him again, when they’d reunite and fall in love for a second time, a mess of hearts and hands and bodies coming together, coming home…and now all she could picture was being alone with him.
She closed her eyes, shaking her head slightly.
“Don’t do this, Sage. Don’t fight this. Please have dinner with me.”
Her eyes popped open, locking with his so fast that his breath hitched. “Fine. I’ll be at your house at eight o’clock Friday evening” Between secretive Jimmy and scheming Ellie Hall, she could find out where Brand lived. “I like Pinot Grigio. I’m meat and potatoes, not lettuce and carrots. And I hate fish.”
He smiled that wicked smile again, causing her stomach to knot. “Oh, I’m very aware of what you like and dislike, Sage”—the words promising so much more than a well-cooked steak—“though the wine is something new.”
She licked her lips, leaning forward so their faces were even closer than before, then inhaled the familiar scent of him. “There’s a lot about me that’s new, Brandon Tiggs.” Good grief, where did that come from?
Brand swallowed, his Adam’s apple visibly clunking around in his throat as he gave a curt nod. He scribbled his address on a piece of paper, then left her office without another word.
Finally, he’d been rendered speechless.
Which was all well and good, but Sage would bet her nursing degree his panties weren’t soaked clear through.
“Ellie! Why don’t you have to go to the meeting with Sagey tonight?” Jimmy bounded down the outside stairs of the apartment, running toward Mrs. Hall.
Sage trudged behind him, questioning her own sanity. She’d been a crackling tangle of nerves all week, scarcely able to utter two words to Brand when they passed in the halls, and barely able to contain herself waiting for Friday, but now?
“What meeting, Jimm—?”
“Hi, Mrs. Hall!” Sage interrupted. “You know what meeting”—she raised her eyebrows at the woman, urging her to follow along, nodding slowly as she continued—“the one with the Principal and a few other staff members? Regarding the, um….” Crap. Sage hadn’t thought this through in the slightest.
This is a mistake.
“Oh, yes, the new nursing program for the senior students! I’d forgotten about that!” She winked conspiratorially, then turned to Jimmy. “Jimmy, honey, you know I wouldn’t miss our Friday night puzzle, and meetings can be so boring.”
“Puzzles aren’t boring!”
“Nope. They sure aren’t. Why don’t you go back inside, so I can talk to your sister about something I want her to bring up at the meeting?”
Jimmy kissed Sage goodbye, then bounded back up the stairs two at a time. Sage held her breath. No matter how many years he’d fended for himself, or with the help of people like Mrs. Hall, of course—and apparently Brand—Sage would always worry about her big brother. His clumsy gait and carefree attitude had proven a reckless combination too many times to count.
“Tell me about this meeting, Sage.”
Sage turned her attention back to Mrs. Hall, unable to fight the smile that pulled at her lips. “I think I’ve lost my mind.”
Mrs. Hall smiled, her shoulders dropping slightly as she settled happily into this new information. “Oh, I don’t think you’ve lost your mind at all, dear. I saw the way you two looked at each other on Monday. This has been a long time coming.”
“Or a long time planning.”
Mrs. Hall grinned. “Possibly.”
“He’s married.”
“Oh, pish-posh. That Rosalind Sanchez was never after anything but glory and fame, honey, and when that didn’t happen for Brandon, well, she’s never been the same since. Frankly, I commend him for staying with her as long as he did. Can’t say he didn’t at least try to keep that horrible girl happy.”
Sage’s eyebrows furrowed. She didn’t quite know what to say to that. Did she respect Brand for staying with Rosie for so long? Could she forgive him for marrying her in the first place?
“It was always you, Sage. You must know that.”
Sage’s mouth opened, closed, then opened again as a thought crossed her mind, exiting her lips before she could think twice. “How did you know about us?”
“Oh, well”—Mrs. Hall’s grin widened—“a few of us knew. We could see it. The way you’d watch each other across the room. The fierce protectiveness in his gaze, the pure acceptance in yours. You saw each other for who you were, not how the world perceived you. It was a beautiful thing to witness.” Mrs. Hall’s eyes became distant for a minute before refocusing on Sage. “Plus, your brother never could keep a secret from everyone, Sage. He always has to spill to at least one person, or he’ll explode.”
Sage smiled. “Too true.”
“You and Brandon, well, he hasn’t been the same since you left. I always wondered how no one else could see it.”
With watery eyes she tried to ignore, Sage threw her arms around the woman, squeezing tight, then turned and headed for the car. “I’m still mad at you for deceiving me.”
Mrs. Hall smiled when Sage looked back. “Oh, I know, honey. But you’ll get over it.” She winked, then turned to head up to the apartment and Jimmy.
Sage shut the door of her car with a smile.
She could do this. She’d forgive Brand for letting her walk away. She’d forgive herself for leaving. She’d forgive him for marrying Rosie.
She had a second chance with the love of her life. Only a fool would give that up.
She drove the short distance to the only other apartment complex in town, a mixture of trepidation and bliss making her insides feel like spaghetti. She couldn’t believe she was about to have dinner with Brandon Tiggs, after all these years.
Yet, on the other hand, she couldn’t imagine anything else making more sense than the two of them together again. The world was suddenly…right.
“Jump in,” he whispe
red, careful not to alert the after-hours security guard to their presence. “I promise not to bite.”
Sage raised one eyebrow and tilted her head.
“Unless, of course, you ask nicely.”
She giggled, then slid out of her ripped tights, glancing around the darkened pool deck. Being naked and exposed in front of Brand was second nature, but if anyone caught them—
Brand sucked in a breath, drawing Sage’s eyes to his once more. She’d stripped down to her bra and panties, her pale skin exposed, every bruise and scar available for the entire world to see.
His gaze was locked on her waist. “That’s new.”
She looked down at the perfect handprint bruise wrapped around her side, then back up at Brand. “It doesn’t hurt.”
He frowned. “Come here.”
She stepped into the water, the perfectly warm liquid soothing her body almost instantly. Weird how she’d never cared much for swimming until she’d met him. Now it was the only place she could go to find solace. Aside from his arms.
They slid around her now, delicately wrapping her in his love as she stepped off the last stair. He pulled her close and she sighed into his comfort, his understanding. He ducked under the water, pressing a kiss to her battered side.
Sage took a deep breath, and her eyes fluttered closed as he kissed her waist once more. With that soothing breath, she allowed both his closeness and the familiar chlorine-scented air to lull her into tranquility. All the horrors of the day washed away as she breathed in the chemical perfume of their love, and all the shattered pieces clicked back into place.
Opening her eyes, she met his gaze. The gentle compassion in his expression had been replaced with something else, a look that warmed Sage through to her bones.
“I love you,” he whispered.
And then his lips were on hers.
With mouths entwined, and gripping one another like lifelines, Sage and Brand moved deeper into the lap pool. He swelled against her, triggering excitement and warmth to pool deep in her belly. She wanted him, right here, right now, with the darkness of the night blanketing them and the pungent scent of chlorine lulling her senses. Movement below his waist confirmed he felt the same.
Chlorine and Chaos Page 4
