Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
“Wear my hair down…whatever,” Zita muttered to herself as she stared into the mirror in the small bathroom at the motel.
She’d spent the last twenty minutes trying to decide what to do with her hair after she’d showered and blown it dry.
She actually liked her hair…liked the auburn color…
but no matter how hard she tried, it always ended up losing any curl she put in before going out.
It was straight as a board. Everyone always wanted the kind of hair they didn’t have, and she was no exception.
Zita would kill for some natural curl of some sort.
She usually put her hair up in some sort of ponytail, bun, or in a thick braid that fell down her back, to keep it out of her face while she was working.
But Sage’s words kept going through her mind.
He wanted to see her hair down, and Zita couldn’t deny that she wanted to look nice for him tonight.
Wanted to make a good impression with his friends.
It was obvious they meant a lot to him. That he respected them.
So she brushed her auburn locks until they shone and left it down. As he’d requested.
Zita tried to tell herself that this wasn’t a date.
It was simply her hanging out with someone she’d met at work and wanted to be friends with.
Something to do to change things up. Sitting alone in her room every night wasn’t the most exciting thing in the world, and she was looking forward to getting out for once.
To spending time with people who weren’t involved in the film industry.
It was cutthroat, and even though she was on the peripheral with her job as a medic, she still felt the stress that came from being on set, constantly competing with others for jobs and attention from those who could further their careers.
But she was lying to herself, and she knew it. Sage intrigued her. He seemed to have his shit together. He was a hotshot Night Stalker. Had a good job. Friends. Was extremely good-looking and fit. And yet today opened her eyes to the fact that he was still very much human.
He’d shared enough of his life and experiences with her that she already knew he was nothing like many of the actors and actresses who starred in the shows and movies she worked on.
They would pretend they didn’t have anxiety and were completely put together at all times. That wasn’t Sage. Not at all.
But seeing Carmen kiss him? Thinking he’d allowed it? That had been a blow.
She’d enjoyed their mornings together, and the attraction she’d felt toward him from the first day they’d met had only grown. So she’d been crushed by that kiss. Had even thought he might’ve been playing her, lying about his disinterest and simply biding his time until he could get close to Carmen.
Zita felt bad for doubting him…and foolish. She could tell he was sincere when he’d explained that the actress had cornered him. And when she thought about it, Carmen had been hitting on him hard since day one. If Sage wanted her, he could have had her ten times by now.
With a little more thought, she realized he had taken a step back this morning, to no avail.
And his hands had been full, holding on to their coffees…
the coffee he’d faithfully brought to her every morning for days.
It was a sweet gesture, and even though she told him he didn’t need to keep doing it, he still did.
Her attraction to Sage hadn’t waned. Not in the least. If anything, after today and his explanation of the encounter between him and Carmen, it had grown. And knowing he occasionally got grumpy just like everyone else made him seem more down to earth. More approachable.
Though, Zita had a feeling that, like a certain actress, Sage was also used to getting what he wanted, that he didn’t often hear the word no…
as evidenced by her getting ready to go to the bar he frequented with his pilot friends.
But she didn’t think he was the kind of man to take advantage or to continue to push if someone truly didn’t want to spend time with him.
In short? Obadiah Engle was possibly the most interesting man Zita had ever met.
He had more depth than you’d think just looking at him.
He had layers, and each one she discovered intrigued Zita more and more.
She couldn’t wait to see who he was around his friends.
Was he a jokester? The rowdy type? Did he have a wandering eye when he’d had a beer or two?
Would he want to play pool or darts and be uber competitive?
Was he respectful to the men and women who worked in the bar?
There were so many things she could find out about him tonight, and she was looking forward to it more than she wanted to admit.
She found herself ready to go fifteen minutes before seven.
It was too soon to go to the lobby to wait, so she paced her small room, trying to work off some of her nervous energy.
She still wasn’t sure if this was a date.
Sage had taken back his adamant assertion that he wasn’t interested in dating, but that didn’t necessarily mean this was a date.
He was probably just doing what she was doing—seeing if the crazy feelings she had anytime they were together could amount to anything.
After all, he was still taking her to a bar where he hung out with his buddies.
Not to mention, all those friends would be there as well.
Did a man invite a woman out for drinks, then invite his best friends?
She doubted it. And that thought took some of the pressure off the night for her, which was a relief.
Looking down at herself, Zita winced, realizing her clothing choices might belie her thoughts.
She’d clearly gone out of her way to impress Sage, despite trying to convince herself this was a friends thing.
Her jeans were tight—and very flattering on her curves, if she did say so herself.
She’d chosen a green shirt that she always got compliments on.
It was sleeveless with a high neck, and there was absolutely no cleavage showing, but it still brought attention to her boobs, which were currently nestled in a bra that pushed them up and together.
The color also looked fantastic with her hair and skin tone.
On her feet, she’d donned her favorite pair of watermelon-colored light canvas shoes with cream polka dots. They didn’t match the shirt exactly, but she didn’t care. Seeing them on her feet never failed to make her smile.
Taking a deep breath and deciding it was too late to change, Zita grabbed her purse.
She’d made sure her phone was charged for the night, she had extra cash, as well as the usual things she carried around…
trauma shears, gloves, medical tape, a small first-aid kit, her penlight, glucose tablets, and a pocketknife.
Past boyfriends had made fun of her for carrying that kind of stuff everywhere she went, but Zita had been in plenty of situations where she’d needed to use something.
She couldn’t turn off her medical knowledge, and she would never sit back and watch someone hurting if she could do something to help.
Putting the strap of the crossbody bag over her head, she left her room on the ground floor and headed down the sidewalk, toward the motel lobby.
She probably shouldn’t’ve been surprised to see Sage already parked there, standing on the passenger side of his Jeep Wrangler, waiting for her…and yet she was. Looking at her phone, she saw he was almost ten minutes early.
Relieved she wouldn’t have to pace the lobby, letting her anxiousness about the upcoming night rise, she smiled as she headed for him.
“Hi,” she said when she got close.
His gaze ran from the top of her head down to her shoes, then back up. And the appreciation and pleasure in his gaze warmed her from the inside out.
“Hey,” he returned. “You left your hair down.”
Feeling a little self-conscious, Zita ran a hand down the silky-soft strands. “Yeah.”
“It’s beautiful. I knew it would be. And longer than I expected.”
Her hair was long. It went midway down her back and chest, which was why she wore it up when she worked. The last thing she needed was her hair getting in the way of CPR or bandaging a bloody wound.
“Love the shoes too.”
Zita smiled. Had she ever had a man compliment her eclectic taste in footwear?
No. Usually the guys rolled their eyes or asked if she was trying to relive her childhood.
Because Zita had quite the collection of bright-colored canvas shoes.
All different brands. The brighter the better.
They made her smile. And she needed as many things as possible in her life that made her happy, since her job was damn tough at times.
“Thanks. They’re one of my favorite pairs,” Zita said, sticking her foot out so he could see it better, and so she could admire the shoe for herself.
“You ready to go?”
“Yup.”
Sage opened the door and held it for her as she climbed inside the Jeep. He pulled the seat belt down and handed it to her, which was an extremely polite and caring gesture. It wasn’t as if Zita would ever ride in a car without a seat belt, but it was nice of him to assist her in getting it on.
He walked around the front of the Jeep and got behind the wheel, putting his own seat belt on before turning on the engine and heading out of the parking lot.
It was a nice night, and the windows were rolled down slightly, letting in the fresh evening air, but not making it impossible to talk over the sound of the wind.
“How did the rest of your day go?” Zita asked. “I hope it got better.”
Sage winced. “Well, if you call being in meetings all day, and Edge spilling his coffee all over me better, then yes.”
Zita couldn’t help but giggle. It was kind of rude to laugh at his misfortune, but she couldn’t help it.
He turned to her and smiled, letting her know he wasn’t offended by her chuckles.
“He didn’t do it on purpose, did he? Edge?”