Eighteen
Beckett
I t’s late when I come home on Sunday night, and the front door creaks like it knows I’m guilty.
I’m supposed to be the one in control. Steady.
Unshakable. But for the past twenty-four hours, Sadie’s been inescapable, lodged firmly in my mind and burrowed under my skin.
I can’t stop thinking about her. Turns out we both skipped dinner at my parents’ tonight.
I told them I had an emergency at the hospital, but that was a lie.
I wasn’t there either. I was out with an old high school buddy.
And Sadie was with Rosemary and Ginny Dempsey. I saw them before I left the hospital.
Now I can’t bear to be anywhere near her without crossing a line I’m pretty sure I shouldn’t have crossed in the first place. The one time didn’t get her out of my system. It only made the need worse .
The clock blinks past eleven as I lock the door, feeling damp from the summer humidity and sour from too many beers.
I shake off my jacket and toss it on a chair, trying not to think about the minefield I’m walking into.
Because Sadie Calloway, in all her inconvenient glory, is still here. And last night only made things worse.
I step into the living room, trying to avoid every creak and shadow, when my foot knocks a glass.
Clink .
Her voice cuts through the dark. “So nice of you to come home.”
I stop cold. She’s curled on the couch, arms folded, watching me like she’s been waiting all night.
“A guy can’t go out without an interrogation?” I try for casual. It lands somewhere near twitchy.
“Interrogation? Please. I don’t care where you go.” She stands, pulling her sleeves over her hands like armor. “But I would like to know why you snuck out of my room last night.”
I look away. “Last night?”
Her scoff is sharp. “Really? You’re going with that?”
“I thought we said everything there is to say this morning,” I mutter, running a hand through my hair. “You said it was a mistake, never to be repeated.”
“What did you expect me to say? Please come to my room again to ravish me and leave as soon as I fall asleep? I feel so good when you do that. Classic.” She shakes her head.
“You’re still here,” I snap, shifting the subject in the shittiest way possible. “I’ve got a life, you know.”
Her eyes harden. “If you want me gone, just say so.”
“I’m not the one making this complicated.” My mind threatens to spin out of control. There’s so much going on here.
“You sure about that?” She steps closer. “Because this hot-and-cold act is exhausting. One second you’re pushing me away, the next you’re looking at me like—” She cuts herself off. “Then we do the deed, and you’re out the door as soon as you’re done.”
“That’s not what happened.” I waited for her to fall asleep first.
“No,” she fires back. “You won’t own it. You won’t say what it was.”
My throat tightens. “You’re Caleb’s sister.” That’s my excuse, but that’s not the reason. I don’t dare tell her the truth.
I don’t know that I could handle this. The bruises I left were a slap in the face.
Caleb wasn’t just my best friend in high school. He’s the reason I’m a doctor. When my older brothers bailed on the vineyard, all the pressure landed on me. I was supposed to carry the legacy, keep the Paradise name rooted in the soil.
But that wasn’t what I wanted. Medicine was.
And Caleb—he’s the one who told me I didn’t owe anyone my future. He said, “ Then be a doctor .” Just like that, like it was that simple. It wasn’t. Standing up to my father tore us apart for years.
But when Caleb lost his parents, something in me cracked open. He needed me like I needed him. He believed in me when I didn’t know how to believe in myself.
And now, not only did I hook up with his little sister, I left marks. I know what the emergency room would do if she went in. This would not be good. It’s not just complicated. It’s wrong. It feels like a betrayal of everything he gave me.
Her voice drops. “And that makes me off-limits?”
“I don’t know.” I shake my head. “You said—”
“I said it was the best sex I’d ever had,” she says, cheeks flushed but unflinching. “Then you bailed.”
“It wasn’t like that.”
“Then tell me what it was,” she demands.
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.
“Exactly.” She crosses her arms. “You shut down every time we get close to something real.”
I hate how right she is. I hate how close she’s standing. And I really hate that she can see the cracks I’ve spent years pretending don’t exist.
“Why did you avoid me all day? ”
The question isn’t loud. It doesn’t need to be.
It guts me just fine on its own.
When I don’t respond, she shakes her head and stomps out of the living room. After a moment, she slams the door to her bedroom.
What am I doing?
I sit on the edge of the couch, elbows on my knees, hands locked behind my neck as if that’ll keep me from unraveling.
The silence is louder than the fight we just had.
And I deserve it. Every second of her anger.
Hell, I’ve been avoiding her like she’s a threat to everything I’ve built… and maybe she is.
Because I want to go to her. Right now. I want to knock on that door, crawl into that bed, and lose myself in her until the rest of the world disappears. I want to apologize with my mouth on her skin, tell her without words how sorry I am. But that’s the problem.
Sadie’s my kryptonite. One look from her and I forget the rules. One touch and I’m ready to burn down the only boundaries keeping us safe. Caleb would never forgive me. She might not forgive me. And if we end up in that bed again, I don’t know if I’ll have the strength to walk away.
I drag a hand down my face and let out a breath. It’s all too dangerous. Too fast. Too much. But damn it, my feet itch to move, and my heart aches like she’s already gone. I want her. God, I want her. But I don’t know how to have her without breaking everything else.
Then I’m standing in the hallway, and I knock on her door. “It’s me,” I call, forcing calm into my voice as I lean against the doorframe like I belong here. Like I didn’t disappear last night without an answer.
“What do you want?” she asks.
I open the door, then say the only thing I can. “I thought we could try again.”
Her brow lifts. “Try again—as in, another round of you getting weird and bolting?”
“Sadie.” It’s a warning, but it doesn’t slow her down .
“We need to talk,” she says. “And you can’t keep dodging me.”
“What’s left to say?”
“I don’t regret it,” she says plainly. “Not one bit.”
That takes my breath away. I didn’t think she’d say it out loud. I nod. “Okay.”
Her lips twitch into something like a smile. “Okay?”
“Yeah.”
She studies me. “Then help me.”
I blink. “With what?”
She hesitates. “Figure this out. Get better. I want you to teach me.”
My pulse stutters. “Teach you?”
“If I really wasn’t good, maybe you can give me some…pointers.”
I stare at her. There are a thousand reasons to say no, and only one of them has anything to do with Caleb.
“Sadie, I meant it when I said you’re incredible.
Our night together was amazing. There is nothing wrong with you—nothing.
Whatever Alex said, that’s his damage, not yours.
He didn’t deserve you. But you need to understand, I can’t give you pointers. ”
“You can’t or you won’t?”
“Both.”
“Why?” she pushes.
I look away, but she doesn’t let up.
“Because Caleb would kill you? Or because you think I’ll fall apart?”
“You said you don’t regret it,” I say.
“I don’t.”
“That was one night. You want to keep doing this and pretend it won’t blow up?”
“Probably will,” she admits. “But it’d be fun until it does.”
God, she’s killing me. “You should ask why I really won’t do it.”
“I did.”
I step closer. “You told me not to go easy on you. So I didn’t. I saw the bruises. The hickey. You think I don’t remember where I put my mouth?” My voice drops. “That was one night. And I hurt you.”
Her eyes widen.
“I didn’t mean to,” I add. “But I did.”
A flicker of shock crosses her face before it turns to anger. “And here I was thinking you were the fun one. Don’t you think I know when I’ve been injured?”
“You asked for honesty.”
“It was fun for me,” she mutters. “Guess I read it wrong.”
“You didn’t. That’s the problem.”
We stand here in the thick of everything unsaid. I want to fix it. I want to pull her back in.
But instead, she shuts down. “Go ahead,” she says. “Bail again. You’re good at that.”
So I do. I walk out of her room and into mine. One of us needs to be the adult here.
I lie awake all night, the argument playing on a loop in my head.
Every word, every look, every breath we didn’t take because we were too busy hurting each other.
What she’s asking for—it’s impossible. She doesn’t see it, doesn’t get that she’s already in my bloodstream.
Letting her in even more? Giving myself free rein to touch her, want her, have her whenever I want?
That won’t fix anything. It’ll just feed the obsession. And I’m already hooked.
I hear Sadie in the kitchen the next morning, banging around like she’s daring me to show my face before I’m fully awake. But by the time I venture out, she’s already gone.
Then she walks in from the deck, tossing a wet towel over a chair. “You’ve got a weird idea of a quick getaway,” she says .
“I’m a glutton for punishment,” I mutter, making a slice of toast.
After a moment, Sadie sits across from me, elbows on the table, eyes locked on mine. “So…where’d we leave off? Right. You were about to explain why you’re acting like a coward.”
I drop the spoon next to my coffee. Loud. Final. “We left off with you getting mad and me not giving in.”
“Because you ‘hurt’ me.” She rolls her eyes. “Seriously?”
“You think I made that up?”
“I think you’re exaggerating. A few bruises don’t scare me.”
“I’m not doing it again.” I try to make it sound like a decision, not a defense.
She shrugs. “Guess I’ll find someone else, then.”
Her casual tone makes something snap.
“This isn’t a game.”
“Maybe not to you,” she fires back.
I try to hold the line. “It’s not worth the risk.”
“Funny. You’re the only one who seems scared.”
“I’m not scared.”
“Then what is it?” she pushes. “Because I’ve taken worse in a pillow fight.”
My jaw tightens. “It’s a bad idea.”
“That’s a terrible excuse.”
She leans in, and I know I’m seconds from breaking. “You really want me to believe this is about protecting me?”
“Isn’t it?” I challenge. “Because I told you. Your skills in bed are not an issue.” My voice drops. “That was about him.”
“Alex?”
I nod. “Yes.”
She goes still. “You left me right after you were done. How can I not believe him?”
I grit my teeth. “Because I told you he was wrong. Can’t you believe me?”
“Believe you? The guy who won’t touch me without apologizing? ”
I stare at her, struggling to hold back what I really want to say. “You’re not fragile, Sadie. And I don’t care what Alex told you. He’s a loser.”
“He has a job, and he owns a business.” Her voice is quieter now. Wounded.
I can’t explain it to her.
“Why can’t you tell me the truth?” she asks.
I try again to shift her focus. “If a guy can’t get a woman like you to come, he’s the one with the problem.”
She blushes. “So you don’t think I’m bad?”
How many times do I have to tell you? I slam my hand on the table. “I think you’re incredible. And yeah, I held back. You want me to go all in? You’ll wake up with more than bruises.”
Her expression flickers—hurt, anger, disbelief—before it sets hard. “I didn’t ask you to hold back.”
“You didn’t have to.”
“Then who are you protecting?” she asks. “Me? Or yourself?”
I don’t answer. I can’t. I push away from the table, scraping the chair back with too much force. “You need someone who won’t ruin your life.”
Her eyes don’t soften. “Ruin my life? You are awfully high and mighty.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“But it’s what you said.”
“Caleb wouldn’t want it to be me,” I admit.
She doesn’t even blink. “Great. I’m fragile, Caleb’s the boss, and there’s a string of women out there whose lives you’ve ruined with good sex. Good to know where we stand.”
Sadie rises so fast her chair tips over. She storms out, and I stay right where I am, alone with the smell of burned toast. What the hell am I supposed to do?
“Fine,” I hear my voice saying. “I’ll give you sex lessons.”
I hear Sadie’s door open, but then my phone pings with an emergency at the hospital. Noooooooo.
“I have to go,” I call before she’s even had a chance to say something.