Chlorine and Chaos

by Jessalyn Jameson

  Sage had been hurt by him one too many times, and frankly, the comments she made were no less than he deserved.

  Leaving the ball in her court, however, had been nothing less than torturous.

  Tig knew she’d been coming to the gymnasium for the past two weeks. He’d spotted her twice on his own, then heard about other times from Simmons—most of which resulted in Tig having to refrain from pummeling the man for his snide remarks. Letting the love of his life suffer in her indecision had nearly killed Tig, but he didn’t want to push, didn’t want to rush her.

  Sage had to come around on her own, and her presence in his doorway now meant she finally had.

  She cleared her throat. “Brand?”

  Music to his fucking ears. He fought to stay in his seat.

  Tig set the pen down, then lifted his head, meeting that gray gaze that so drove him wild. Her blonde hair was down today, not in her usual Nurse Shepard twist, and he flashed back to the way that golden hair spread out behind her on his pillow.

  “Sage.”

  She took one hesitant step toward him, wringing her hands at her waist.

  Fuck this. Tig stood, striding to close the distance between them as quickly as he could.

  Nine years—plus these last couple hellish months—of distance between them. Time to obliterate it.

  He searched her gaze, hoping he wasn’t wrong about why she’d come to talk to him.

  She smoothed her skirt again, so he grabbed her hands, steadying them.

  “I’m sorry, Brand. I’m sorry for what I said, and I’m sorry for….” her eyes drifted to the side as her words faded away.

  “I forgive you.”

  She snapped her gaze back to his. “What?”

  “I forgive you.”

  Her perfect brows knitted together. “You’re not angry?”

  “Don’t you get it, Sage? You’re everything I’ve ever wanted. I can barely breathe without you, can hardly function. I thought I’d lost you that morning when Rosie came to the apartment. I barely ate for days, weeks, barely showered—didn’t even know what day it was. The kids from the team asked me to come out with them that night at the bowling alley, and…hell, Sage, I hadn’t even realized it was February. When I saw you at that bar, drinking like some old war vet with nothing left to lose….”

  Her eyes welled with tears; he reached up to cup her face.

  “Well, you were in the same boat I was. What you said to me, Sage, it hurt. It was like nothing I’d felt before, but I knew. I walked out of those doors and knew that you loved me with all your heart. That you’d lashed out against me because you hated me for not fighting for you.”

  Tears finally loosed from her eyes. Tig wiped them away with his thumbs.

  “I love you, Sage Shepard. Starting over, being us again, second chances, whatever this is, I’m in. I don’t care if it’s hard, or if we fight, or if you wake up one day and think I’m the biggest failure on earth. Just so long as you wake up that day next to me.”

  She reached up, wrapping her arms around his neck, and he slid his arms around her waist, pulling her to him.

  “I love you, Sage.”

  “I love you, too, Brand, so much. I want to be with you. I want to do this.”

  Tig grinned from ear to ear, then pulled her away from him enough to peer down into her eyes. “All in?”

  Sage smiled, her full lips pulled back over those slightly crooked canines he loved. “All in.”

  He leaned down, pressing his lips to hers, then wasted no time sliding his tongue inside, claiming her, tasting her. The salty tears combined with the familiar sweetness of her mouth and he moaned, so fucking thankful she was his.

  Finally his.

  He gripped her tighter still, that familiar, unquenchable need driving him, making him wish he was anywhere but in this office. He considered closing and locking the door. Sage broke the kiss, looked behind her, and reached for the door, a girl after his own heart.

  Once secluded in the privacy of his office, Sage turned back around and met his gaze. “Have sex with me, Brandon.”

  He smiled, then stormed toward her, pressing her back against the door, frantically unbuttoning her blouse while he tasted her jaw, her chin, her neck.

  They both froze at a knock on the door. “Coach?”

  “Go away,” Tig mumbled into Sage’s neck, inhaling the subtle honeyed scent of her skin.

  “You all right in there, Coach? You sound kinda funny.”

  Sage giggled, and Tig nipped at her bottom lip. “Much more than all right,” he whispered, slowly undoing the remaining buttons of her blouse.

  Sage bit her lip, her chest flushing pink. Tig ran his tongue across the soft mounds of flesh now exposed above her bra, then pulled her breasts free and suckled each one in turn, eliciting soft whimpers from her perfect mouth.

  “Brandon,” she panted. “Now.”

  Tig grinned. As you wish. He knelt before her, then slid his hands up beneath her skirt, taking the fabric higher and higher up her legs as he reached for her center.

  It was about damn time he christened this old office.

  Brand roared as his fist connected with the cement wall of the gymnasium. Sage flinched, then reached for him, but he ripped his hand away to pace.

  “I’m fine; it’s nothing, Brand.” Tears rolled down her cheeks, but she didn’t move, waiting for him to come back to her as he paced in the moonlight. She’d expected this response from him.

  Brand stopped in front of her, his eyes wide and glistening in the darkness. “Nothing? Nothing! I’m going to fucking kill him.” He growled, reaching on either side of her head to brace his hands against the wall as though he could shield her with his body after the fact. “I’m going to kill him, Sage. And then I’m going to kill him again.”

  “No, you’re not.” She worried the hem of her black sweater, pulling at the intentional hole at her hip and unintentionally making it wider. “I just can’t…we have to be more careful.”

  He grabbed her hands, stilling her the way he always did when her fingers twitched and she had to find a way to keep them busy…or risk cutting herself again. “No, Sage, this is not our fault. Not your fault. Don’t make excuses for him—”

  She stood taller, pulling her hands out of his and clenching her fists at her sides. “This is absolutely our fault, Brandon. I told you, I fucking told you we had to keep this between us. I knew he’d—”

  “This?” Brand waved toward the fresh bruise on her face, she swore it throbbed in response; he motioned toward the welts on her arms, hidden beneath the baggy sweater, tears finally falling from his eyes. “This is why you won’t let me break up with Rosie? This is why I have to sneak around with the girl I love? Your psycho foster dad?” Brand ran his hands through his hair and resumed pacing, a lunatic grin stretching his beautiful face unnaturally. “This is why? Because that bastard will fucking beat you if you have a boyfriend?”

  Sage cringed as he spat the words, his voice rising with every syllable, but she didn’t argue. This was exactly why she hadn’t wanted anyone to know about her and Brand.

  Because dearest daddy wanted her all to himself.

  He’d caught them somehow—Sage was unsure of how they’d slipped up; they were always so careful to remain secretive—and the jealous fit of rage she’d endured this afternoon was worse than any of her foster father’s beatings thus far.

  She still couldn’t tell Brand about the rape.

  Sage waited for him to calm down, watching him pace, listening to him mumble and curse under his breath. Occasionally, he’d wave his hands at the darkened sky, possibly arguing with God, or maybe just losing his mind. She didn’t know.

  But what Sage did know was that once he calmed down, he’d hold her. He’d kiss her and soothe her and put the pieces back together again the only way he knew how. By loving her with all he had in him.

  Every time she broke, Brand would fix her.

  The only person who’d ever tried their hand
at such a hefty feat.

  “Sagey!”

  Jimmy’s voice pulled her out of the horrid memory. He bounced in the seat beside Sage—he hadn’t stopped bouncing since she’d mended things with Brand. Her brother was almost more excited than she was.

  Almost.

  She smiled at Jimmy, who looked at her for the millionth time in the last ten minutes, then glanced across the pool at Brand who smiled at them both. God, we look like a bunch of grinning lunatics.

  Brand mouthed, “I love you,” and Sage nearly jumped from the bleachers to run to him.

  As the stands filled, the swimmers began taking their places. Jimmy had insisted on sitting on the opposing team’s bleachers, but Sage had never argued with her brother and wasn’t about to start now. So, like USC fans at a UCLA game, wearing red and gold in a sea of blue and yellow, Jimmy and Sage watched the opposing swim team take their places on the podiums.

  “Oh! Lookit! That’s Artie Langford!”

  Sage tried to follow Jimmy’s pointed finger, but crowds still flooded the area as people took their seats, so she couldn’t see Brand’s boys.

  “Who’s Artie Langford, again, Jimbo?” She recognized the name, and knew Brand had spoken of him, but couldn’t quite remember the details.

  Jimmy turned to her, eyes wide and a smile pulling up at the corners of his mouth. “Oh, Sagey, he’s the best swimmer Coach has ever had. Ellie told me all about him. He’s new here, and he swims like a mermaid—”

  “Merman,” Sage teased.

  Jimmy grinned, then giggled. “Oops. Merman. You’re so smart, Sage.”

  The meet flew by, and between chatting with the parents around her, listening to Jimmy go off about this Artie Langford kid, and watching Brand shine with pride, Sage missed most of the actual event.

  But she didn’t care. She wasn’t there to follow the swimmers or watch the clock. She wasn’t there to comment on form or flexibility, sportsmanship or rank.

  Sage was there in those bleachers, on that cold, March Friday night because she was head over heels in love with the swim team’s coach, and she planned on marrying him just as soon as she could.

  And that’s what a coach’s wife did—support her man.

  “Come on, Sagey! Let’s go see Tig! I want to say hi to Artie!”

  Sage let Jimmy pull her through the crowd, smiling as she drew closer to Brand, knowing it would be mere minutes before she was in his arms again. How had she managed to live almost nine years without this man in her life?

  The sea of people parted around them, and Sage stopped dead in her tracks. Her breath hitched. Her stomach sank. Her mouth dried to the moisture level of desert sand.

  The biggest mistake of her life stood beside her one true love. They smiled for the spectators. Cameras flashed around them. People pushed forward to hear what they had to say.

  Coach Brandon Tiggs and his star athlete.

  Escalade.

  Fumbling Fingers from the bowling alley.

  Sage swallowed the bile in her throat. She’d slept with a student.

  Tig spotted her through the crowd as Jimmy dragged her toward him. He smiled, enjoying the familiar rush of memories seeing the two of them together always brought forth. Even when she was stuck in those foster homes, even when she’d suffered abuse from the hands of each father, she’d remained focused on one thing and one thing only: Jimmy Shepard.

  She’d made a promise to her mother on the woman’s death bed—long before Tig met Sage—that she’d get Jimmy back. Years after their mother died, which plummeted Sage into her own personal foster care hell and sent Jimmy to a care facility that could best handle him, Sage had done everything she could to get back to her big brother.

  Tig knew how painful it must have been for Sage to leave town for school, only seeing Jimmy a few times a month during the years she was away, but her determination to make a life for herself and her brother, her drive to become financially independent so she could care for Jimmy on her own, it was just that much more to admire about her.

  Watching them together now, Tig wondered if anyone truly knew the depths of that woman’s love. He wondered if he truly knew.

  He planned to spend the rest of his life trying to fully grasp the complexity of her heart.

  Tig began communicating with Sage and Jimmy’s old case worker even before she’d apologized to him a few weeks ago. Painfully masochistic or not, he’d held fast to the hope that they’d get back together. He’d been willing to wait for her as long as she needed, but he wanted to be prepared. Many phone calls and a lot of persuasion later, he’d finally found the social worker, and was currently awaiting the woman’s answer to the most important question he’d ever asked: had she located any items from the Shepard estate, more specifically, a tiny piece of jewelry.

  Should that ring turn up as he hoped, asking Sage for her hand would be that much more meaningful.

  Artie grabbed his arm, pulling his attention away from Sage’s smiling face, his thoughts focusing back on the present. Lorimar High’s swim team had just won the final meet to bring them to state championships, and the reporters wouldn’t stop until the dream team coach spoke for the cameras.

  Tig threw an arm over the swimmer’s soaking wet shoulder, then grinned for the gaggle of reporters, fans, and family members. In the short time since Artemis Langford walked into his office, the kid had blossomed into a beast. He was a demon in the water. His grades were above average. Artie’s confidence was much like Tig’s had been back in his glory days, and he marveled at the complete one-eighty in his star swimmer. Something had boosted the kid’s confidence, and Tig often wondered if he’d had anything to do with it, but he knew better than to question a gift horse. The team was doing better than in all the years he’d been coaching.

  Tig felt pride when he stood beside Artie now. This kid was going places. Maybe even to the Olympics someday.

  Maybe that had boosted Artie’s confidence—his precision in the water.

  Or maybe he’s been getting laid more than you, old man.

  Tig smirked at that, then returned his attention to the commotion before him.

  Cameras flashed, and people chattered around them, but, like gravity—unrelenting and unable to be ignored—his gaze returned to Sage. Always Sage.

  And then he froze.

  He searched her face—the furrowed brows, the wide eyes, the mouth half-open in shock—then scanned the crowd around Sage for the cause of her sudden distress. Jimmy seemed fine, still smiling and watching the reporters. Nothing seemed amiss….

  He looked back at Sage, but she hadn’t met his gaze. She stared straight ahead at—

  Tig turned his head. Artie stood as frozen as he was, eyes locked on Sage.

  What the fuck?

  Tig turned his head, flicking his gaze between the woman he loved and his star athlete beside him, wondering what the connection was, what had happened just now to bring the two of them to this odd standstill—both of them frozen with matching expressions of shock on their faces.

  “Artie! Artie Langford! How does it feel to bring your team to state?”

  “Do you miss being on the team yourself, Coach?”

  “Why didn’t you move onto the Olympics—?”

  Questions flew left and right from reporters and fans alike. Tig pulled away from Langford, then walked through the crowd, tunnel vision locked on Sage. She didn’t notice his approach until he moved to stand in front of her, breaking the connection to Artie.

  Sage looked up at him and sucked in a breath, as if suddenly surprised to see Tig at his own goddamned swim meet.

  “What’s going on?” He had more to say, but his brain and mouth wouldn’t connect to form the question he really needed to ask, the question his gut told him he already knew the answer to.

  How do you know Artie Langford?

  Sage swallowed, looking up at Brand and trying to coax her expression into something that didn’t scream Mistake! Mistake! Mistake!

  Or, more li
kely, I slept with a student—your champion swimmer!

  She swallowed again, but couldn’t remember what Brand had asked, or what she was doing. The only reason she even knew where she stood was the pungent scent of chlorine in her nose and Jimmy’s hand in hers.

  “Sagey? You okay?”

  She pulled her gaze from Brand’s to look at her brother. “Yeah, sorry, Jimbo. I’m fine. I just…I just need a minute.” Her mouth watered.

  She broke free of Jimmy’s grasp, then turned on her heels and pushed through the surrounding throngs of people as fast as she could, making a beeline for the women’s restroom.

  “Sage!”

  Brand called out behind her but she didn’t turn around, didn’t slow.

  “Sage!”

  Only one stall was available in the restroom—but one was all she needed. She ducked inside, leaned her back against the door and bent over at the waist, hands on her knees.

  Breathe, Sage. Just breathe.

  She inhaled a few large breaths of air, trying to calm her racing heart.

  Of all the guys she could have one-nighted. Of all the guys she could have picked to take her mind off Brandon Tiggs.

  Artie Langford. Brand’s prized hog. Jimmy’s freakin’ idol.

  A student.

  A student!

  She’d fucked him, left him, and never even bothered with his name. Or grade level. She’d known he was young, but thought college student, not high school! Her stomach rolled, and she leaned further forward as her mouth watered, but no vomit followed.

  “Shit,” she whispered, shaking her head. What am I going to do?

  Women cleared out of the restroom as the minutes ticked by. They flushed toilets, washed hands, chatted—often about the star swimmer in question—and Sage never moved from her hiding spot. She didn’t feel composed enough to face Brand yet, and she surely wasn’t ready to see Artie Langford again.

  The way he’d looked at her…just as shocked as she was, but not nearly as repulsed. She’d seen lust in those brown eyes and it made her skin crawl.