5. Sadie
Sadie
S aturday night and I can’t sit still.
I keep walking around my apartment. Kitchen to living room to bedroom and back. Like I’m looking for something I lost but I don’t know what.
The Kerr wedding went perfect. Or at least I think it did. Sarah looked happy. Nobody complained. The arrangements didn’t fall over. But now I’m sitting here—walking here—and my brain won’t shut up.
Because of Levi’s notebook on my coffee table.
I pick it up again. Put it down. Pick it up.
Those pressed leaves are still perfect. The poem makes my chest do weird things. “Coffee’s just my sweet excuse to see the joy you never lose.”
That’s not friendship poetry. Is it? Maybe it is and I’m being crazy like always. Taking normal human kindness and turning it into some fantasy where people actually?—
No. Stop.
Wednesday morning when he helped clean up the flood. Standing so close I could smell cedar and books and something that made my nipples tighten under my sweater. When he said he wanted to take care of me with his voice all rough and promising.
I’ve been avoiding him since then. Ducking into stores when I see him coming. Buying coffee from the gas station instead of letting him bring me the good stuff twice a week like he has for weeks.
Because what if I’m wrong? What if I make it weird? What if he’s just being nice and I ruin everything by wanting more?
My scent spikes sharp and bitter. I smell like stressed omega and it’s gross.
Then there’s Caleb.
Who rebuilt my entire ceiling today. Shirtless for most of it because apparently October is still warm enough for construction work without clothes. Which I definitely wasn’t watching. Much.
Except I was totally watching. The way his shoulders moved when he lifted those heavy beams. How his tool belt hung low on his hips. The scar near his wrist from something he did in the military probably.
My body’s still humming. His sandalwood and leather scent wrapped around me all day making me feel safe and also like I wanted to lick the sweat off his neck.
This is Caleb Maddox. Dean’s big brother. Who used to let me tag along when I was ten and annoying. He probably still sees me as little Sadie Quinn who can’t figure out basic life stuff.
Like how to pay for roof repairs. Or why my insurance company hates me. Or whether I can afford groceries this week if I pay the electric bill.
My stomach growls loud enough to echo in my tiny apartment.
Right. Food. That thing I keep forgetting about.
And then Reid Harper showed up today.
The man I saw through my window Tuesday morning during the flood.
Those same intense green eyes and sharp jawline.
Perfect suit. Perfect hair. Scent like expensive leather that hit me so hard I got slick before I could think straight.
Pure alpha confidence that made my omega instincts practically beg.
He wants flowers for business meetings every Tuesday for the next month. Big money. The kind of contract that could pay my mortgage for three months.
But the way he looked at me. Like I was worth his time instead of just convenient.
My phone buzzes and I nearly drop it.
Text from Caleb. When did he get my number?
Hope you’re taking care of yourself tonight. Long weekend.
I stare at the message. He’s checking on me. At nine PM on a Saturday. Like that’s normal.
Before I can figure out what to text back, someone knocks at my door.
Soft knock. Polite knock. Nobody good ever shows up this late.
I pad downstairs in my bare feet and peek through the peephole of the side entrance.
Levi. Standing in the back alley with a brown bag and wine. Looking nervous but determined.
Oh crap. Oh crap crap crap.
I’m in flannel pajama pants and a tank top. Haven’t showered since this morning. My hair’s doing that thing where it sticks up weird. And he’s here with dinner and wine and probably expectations I don’t know how to meet.
“Sadie?” His voice carries through the door. “I know it’s late but I thought you might be hungry.”
My stomach chooses that moment to growl so loud he probably heard it.
I could pretend I’m not here. Hide until he goes away.
But I’m tired of hiding from things that might be good just because they also might hurt.
I open the door.
His scent hits me first. Cedar and books and rain. Familiar and safe but also something deeper that makes my core clench with want. He’s wearing jeans and a soft sweater that makes his eyes look warm.
“Chinese food,” he says, holding up the bag like evidence. “From Pine Valley. The good place.”
The place I mentioned liking once. Months ago. He remembered.
“Levi.” My voice comes out breathless. “You don’t have to?—”
“I want to.” He steps closer. Near enough that I can see his pupils are big. Near enough that he’s definitely smelling my honeysuckle and vanilla and the arousal I can’t hide. “You’ve had a hell of a week.”
The way he says it. Like he’s been paying attention. Like my disasters matter to him.
“Okay.” I step back to let him in, then lead him up the narrow staircase to my apartment. The space feels tiny with him in it. His alpha presence makes my skin prickle and my scent sweeten without permission. “That’s really sweet.”
He moves to my kitchen table. Starts unpacking containers like he’s done this before. Like he belongs here.
“Sorry about the mess,” I say even though there’s no mess. Just nervous energy making my mouth run. “I was just walking around trying to process everything. The wedding went well I think but I keep waiting for something to go wrong because that’s what always happens and?—”
“Sadie.” His voice is gentle. “Breathe.”
I take a breath. Watch him find my wine opener without asking where it is.
“The wedding was beautiful,” he says, pouring wine into my mismatched glasses. “I heard three people ask Maeve for your contact information at the post office this morning.”
“Really?” The question squeaks out.
He hands me a glass and our fingers brush. The contact sends heat shooting up my arm and makes my nipples tighten under my tank top. His nostrils flare when my scent spikes with interest.
“Really.” His voice goes rougher. “You’re allowed to believe you’re good at what you do.”
“I don’t know about good. Lucky maybe.”
“Sadie.” He sets down his fork, considers his words. “Stop doing that.”
“Doing what?”
“Making yourself smaller every time someone sees how talented you are.”
The words hit different than compliments usually do. Not like empty praise but like he actually sees me.
“I don’t?—”
“You do. You deflect every compliment. Turn every success into luck instead of skill.” His gaze drops to my mouth for just a second before snapping back up. “Why?”
The simple question catches me off guard. Because how do I explain that my ex-boyfriend spent two years convincing me I was too much work? That I’ve spent three years building a life where I don’t need anyone because needing people just means getting disappointed?
“I guess I’m just realistic about my limitations.”
“Or you’re scared to want things.”
Before I can figure out how to respond to that, someone else knocks at my door.
Louder this time. More confident.
Levi raises an eyebrow.
“Popular tonight,” he says.
I pad downstairs to the door. Look through the peephole.
Caleb. Standing there with beer and an uncertain expression that doesn’t match his broad shoulders and military posture.
I run back upstairs quickly. “It’s Caleb,” I tell Levi.
“Ah.” He nods like that makes sense. “You should let him in.”
“You don’t mind?”
“Of course not.”
Which should probably surprise me more than it does, but I head back downstairs to open the door.
“Hey.” His voice carries that rough gentleness I remember from when we were kids and I’d scraped my knee or lost a tooth. “Saw your light on. Thought I’d check if you were okay.”
“Come in,” I say, stepping back.
I lead him up the narrow staircase to my apartment. His attention moves to where Levi sits at my kitchen table. I watch surprise flicker across both their faces, followed quickly by cautious assessment.
“Levi brought dinner,” I say because I feel like I should explain.
“Chinese food,” Levi adds from the table. “There’s plenty.”
Caleb’s smile is easy. “Don’t want to interrupt anything.”
“You’re not,” I say, stepping back. “Come in.”
And suddenly my tiny apartment has both of them in it.
The space fills with their scents. Cedar and sandalwood mixing until the air itself smells like home. Everything in me settles at being surrounded by alphas who smell right.
My body responds without asking permission first. Slick starts gathering between my thighs. My nipples peak under my thin tank top. Honeysuckle blooms sweeter in my scent and both of them breathe deeper when they catch it.
Maybe it’s because I’ve been rationing my heat suppressants.
Taking one every other day instead of daily to make the prescription last longer.
Just another corner I’ve had to cut since my insurance lapsed.
But being around both of them like this, breathing in their combined scents, my body’s responding like it’s forgotten what the suppressants are supposed to prevent.
“This is weird, right? You both just happening to show up?”
Caleb shifts uncomfortably. “I didn’t know Levi was here. Just saw your light on and thought I’d check if you were okay.”
“I brought dinner because you never eat,” Levi adds. “Didn’t expect company either.”
My face flushes. “I eat.”
“Coffee and whatever’s left in vending machines doesn’t count,” he says gently.
“Well,” I say, settling into my chair. “I guess we’re all having dinner together then.”
An awkward beat of silence.
“Is that... okay?” Caleb asks, glancing between Levi and me.
“Of course,” Levi says. “There’s plenty of food.”
“I just brought beer though,” Caleb adds. “Should’ve thought to bring actual food.”
We settle around my small table and I watch them work together without getting in each other’s way. Caleb opens beers while Levi serves food. Neither one trying to dominate the space or mark territory.
It should feel awkward. Crowded. Instead it feels like pieces clicking into place.
“How’s the roof holding up?” Levi asks.
“Good. Should be completely waterproof now.” Caleb’s attention settles on me with that quiet intensity. “No more emergency disasters.”
“Thank god.” I take a big gulp of wine. “I can’t handle another week like this one.”
“You handled it fine,” Levi says. “Better than fine. You turned a disaster into the most talked-about wedding Honeyridge Falls has seen in years.”
“People are really talking about it?”
“Tommy Clanton already asked Dean when you’d have time to help with his anniversary party,” Caleb says.
The warm feeling in my chest grows. “Really?”
“Really,” Levi confirms. “You’re allowed to be proud.”
As we eat, I start to relax. Actually relax for the first time since Monday. Good food and easy conversation and two men who seem genuinely interested in what I have to say.
But underneath the comfortable talking, there’s something building. Heat that has nothing to do with the wine.
The way they both watch me when they think I’m not looking. How Caleb’s scent spikes possessive every time I laugh. The way Levi’s pupils stay dilated when I lean across the table.
My body responding in ways that should embarrass me but just feel natural. Slick pooling between my thighs every time one of them smiles. Nipples tight against my tank top when they move close enough for their scents to wrap around me.
When we finish eating, they both get up to clear dishes. I watch them coordinate around my tiny kitchen like they’ve done this a hundred times.
“You don’t have to clean up,” I protest.
“We want to,” Caleb says simply.
The domestic scene makes my chest tight. When’s the last time anyone just took care of me? Without expecting something back?
When they’re done, neither one makes moves toward the door.
“Coffee?” I offer, because the silence is getting awkward.
“Sure,” they both say at the same time, then glance at each other.
I busy myself making coffee, hyperaware of how they’re both watching me. How the air feels thick with something I can’t name. When I turn around with three mugs, they’re sitting at my table looking like they’re trying to figure out what to say.
“So,” I say, settling back into my chair. “This was nice.”
“It was,” Levi agrees.
“Yeah,” Caleb adds. “We should... maybe do it again sometime.”
Another pause. Like we’re all thinking the same thing but nobody wants to say it first.
“I should probably head out,” Caleb says, but he doesn’t get up.
“Me too,” Levi says, also not moving.
I look between them. “You don’t have to leave yet. I mean, if you don’t want to.”
“You sure?” Caleb asks.
“Yeah. It’s nice having...” I trail off, not sure how to finish that sentence. Having what? Company? Two attractive men in my apartment? People who actually seem to care about me?
We drink our coffee in comfortable quiet. Nobody rushing to fill the silence. And for the first time in years, I don’t feel like I have to entertain anyone or prove I’m worth their time.
Eventually they do leave. Levi kisses my cheek soft and sweet. Caleb squeezes my shoulder with that gentle possessiveness I remember from childhood. I watch from my window as they walk to their trucks, see them pause to exchange a few words before driving off in different directions.
I sit in my empty apartment surrounded by lingering traces of cedar and sandalwood. Trying to process what just happened. Two men showed up at my door, fed me, cleaned my kitchen, and seemed genuinely happy to spend time with me.
It should feel impossible. Too good to be true.
But everything in me feels settled for the first time in years.
Outside, Saturday night settles over Honeyridge Falls. Tomorrow I have to figure out Reid’s business proposal and what comes next with whatever this is becoming.
But tonight I’m going to finish this wine and try to believe that maybe I deserve something good for once.
Even if I don’t know what it looks like yet.