17. Sage
17
SAGE
S he would have been humiliated if she could feel anything other than a cold sweat and nausea (accompanied by every liquid spewing from her body).
She stood in front of the sink and splashed cold water on her face. Her phone buzzed.
LEO: Are you alive? Pound the wall twice if yes. Once if no.
SAGE: or I could just text you back.
SAGE: Yes. I’m alive. Barely. I assume you got hit with the same poison.
LEO: I’ll never eat clam chowder again.
SAGE: For once, I agree with you.
After one more bout of vomiting—which eventually turned to dry heaving—she found herself lying on her bed, staring at the fan. The room was small enough that she could swing a leg over and nudge the curtains open. The stars looked like they were like pinpricks in the night sky and there was a secret world going on behind the curtain of darkness.
Were they really going to stay the night here? She didn’t have pajamas! She didn’t have clothes. Her toothbrush!
She screeched.
What about Squash!?
Not two seconds after her unintentional scream, Leo burst through the door, though “burst” was a generous term. He more like shouldered the door open, face wet, like he too had been enjoying a moment in the sink’s cold water.
“What is it?”
“Squash!”
“What? A spider?”
“No!” She was frantically tapping on her phone. “I need someone to let her out and feed her! She’ll be fine alone for the night, but she needs the sweater, the thick fleece one since she gets so cold at night. “Ugh—” She swallowed down a gag. “Tavy is at a tournament and Roz is painting at a destination wedding thing in Spain.” Sage sniffed.
Leo leaned against the doorway. “Relax. I’ve already got it taken care of.”
“You what?”
Leo turned white as snow, took two giant steps into her bathroom, and emptied his guts into the toilet. How did he have anything left to give as an offering to the porcelain gods ?
“What about Squash?” she asked again. She tossed him a water bottle she’d grabbed from LilyTech and had stashed in her bag. He caught it with ease and took the tiniest sip.
“I called Tess in between bouts of vomiting and she’s on her way over.”
“But it’s locked!” Sage’s stomach was nauseous for an all-new reason. Squash needed her pill with her food.
“Your backdoor has an electronic lock on it now, remember? I installed it a few weeks ago. I’ll unlock it remotely when she calls me. I already gave her the instructions about where to find the coat and what pills to give the animal. She’s in good hands. My sister has always loved rodents. Mom and Dad never let her get a rat of her own.”
Sage sniffed, too sick, or too relieved to push back on the rodent comment. “And she knows how much food to give her?”
“A scoop and a half with a splash of water. Got it. And I told her it would be okay to hang out and cuddle if she wanted. She’d use my room, don’t worry.”
“Really?” Sage sniffed again, fighting the rising churning in her stomach. “She’d do that?”
“Yes,” Leo said, quickly backtracking to his own bathroom. “She’s an animal person!”
A warm, fuzzy feeling overcame Sage for a moment. He had thought of her dog before she had. He had taken care of it. Those fuzzy feelings were taking root somewhere, but she didn’t have long to dwell on that because her stomach made her sprint to the bathroom and eke out another tribute to the porcelain gods .
An hour later (or more? Apparently time ran differently when your guts got turned inside out) Leo knocked on the door.
“I haven’t heard any more inhuman sounds coming from your side of the wall. Are you okay?”
Sage was lying, once again, on the bed, staring at the overhead fan. The glow of the two lamps on the nightstand was her only light. She was actually almost able to doze off except for the occasional stomach twist or bout of nausea. It had turned into a mental game and she was determined to win.
“Go away and leave me to die.”
“I have dinner.”
She nearly barfed at the thought of food. “Go away.”
“Are you decent? I’m coming in.” He cracked the door and peeked around, apparently deciding that her lying prone on the bed was invitation enough for him to come in. What was it with this man and his serious lack of boundaries?
“I come bearing gifts.” He tossed a Gatorade and some saltine crackers on the bed. “Dinner of champions. Also, my sister says Squash is doing great and is snoring on her lap while they watch The Bachelor.”
Sage smiled a little and reached around on the bed, trying to find the crackers before she gave up. “Where’d you get these?” she asked.
“DoorDash. There’s a Walmart up the street. I also conned the driver into buying us pajamas even though that wasn’t really on the list of things to purchase. But a great tip was worth not having to sleep in muddy clothes that reek of vomit. ”
“You miss too?”
“Backsplash.” He shuddered.
She pushed the crackers away. “Sorry I asked.”
He tossed a bag on the bed. Inside were simple knock-off sweatpants and sweatshirt set trying hard to be Lululemon but ended up being a little crooked. But oh, so comfortable.
“They didn’t have pink or purple so I got you green to match.”
“Match what?” she asked. Her eyes were brown.
“Your skin tone, though it’s looking more normal now.”
She threw a cracker at him.
“You don’t need to get revenge on me. Walmart already did that.” He pulled out another matching set, much larger than hers, also green. “We’ll see if a women’s double XL will fit.”
Sage snorted and pulled the tags from her sweatpants and sweatshirt. “Wait, did they not have men’s?”
Leo shrugged. “I don’t even know. I just am thankful that I won’t have to sleep in jeans. Normally commando would work for me, but I don’t want to tempt your feminine wiles with?—”
“Forgetting boundaries and giving me a show?”
“You already got that with a side of teapot.” He shook his head. “You gonna be okay for the night?”
Sage nodded. “Might take a few field trips to the commode for various reasons, but I think I will survive.”
“I left that place one star because negative stars were not an option. You owe me big time. ”
“I’ll pay you back for the new fashion faux pas and the hotel accommodation.”
Leo sat on the bed next to her, reaching for a cracker. “Not because of that. I’m writing it off as an expense, just to see what my boss has to say. You owe me for picking the world’s worst restaurant.”
They argued about whose idea it was for several minutes before Leo politely excused himself to vomit and Sage took the opportunity to sit on her personal throne and continue her slow transformation into an out-of-order frozen yogurt machine.
She showered and changed into the bright green outfit, thankful the hotel had some complimentary soap and the softest towels ever. Her hair wasn’t going to recover from air drying and not having a hairbrush, though.
When they later reconvened in Sage’s room, Sage couldn’t suppress a smile. “Wow,” she said, scanning his outfit up and down. Clearly he’d had the same idea and his hair was wet and messy and he smelled of fresh, generic soap.
His outfit was not nearly as flattering. The green sweatpants were taxed to the limit. The sweatshirt was nowhere to be seen and instead, he had a towel slung over his shoulders. She tried not to linger on his bare chest too long, but it was right in front of her face. Right there. But when her eyes met these too-tight hot pants, she laughed.
“Shut up,” he said, using the corner of the towel to tousle his hair. “The alternative was just a towel. Or I put on my muddy jeans and get your bed all gross.” He said it as he climbed onto the bed, snatching the remote from where it rested on the bed.
“Go away. You have a TV in your own room,” she reminded him. Don’t stare at the naked chest. Don’t stare. Too late. How could he eat so much and yet stay so fit?
“It’s not working,” he complained. “But I know they got a Bourne movie on. All hotels do.”
Was it hot in here? She should crack the window and get some air.
“I want to go to sleep,” Sage lied.
He called her on it. “Unless you uncovered some trick to make your stomach behave, something tells me you won’t be sleeping anytime soon. Best to ride this wave with the feast of crackers, electrolytes, and Jason Bourne.”
Well, she couldn’t argue with that logic.
He sat on the other side of the queen-sized bed, up against the headboard. It was a respectable distance, the crackers and Gatorade were a perfect barrier between them. It was still strange having another (half-naked!) person in her bed. She’d never had a “boy sleepover” and this was not what Sage had in mind when she was a giggly teenager who couldn’t even say the word “boyfriend” aloud without combusting into flames.
How times have changed.
How far she’d fallen.
Her stomach rolled and for once she knew for certain it wasn’t anxiety, it was just the cold, hard reality of food poisoning.
Leo leaned his head back and sighed. He looked like crap, and she was certain she didn’t look much better .
They had these cool matching outfits, though. It was also kind of convenient that his sweatshirt was too small. Silver linings.
She didn’t have the energy to try to steal the remote back and in the end, he paused to see what Indiana Jones movie was playing and never turned to the next channel. So, there they were, eating crackers in her bed, sipping Gatorade like champagne, and watching Indiana Jones and The Last Crusade with heavy-lidded eyes, screaming stomachs, and spinning heads.
At least Thor’s Well had been incredible. But at what cost?
Later, when she was bent over the toilet, retching up those crackers, she vowed to never be adventurous again.
S age woke to a pounding on her door. “You in there?” a now familiar voice asked.
Sage made a strangled sound.
“Great!” Leo called. “Complimentary breakfast ends in thirty minutes. I’ll go down for seconds with you. I suggest something light. And I have a surprise for you.”
“No more clams,” Sage muttered. She felt like a sponge left out to dry. Her tongue tasted of blue Gatorade and salt and when she shook out her hair, crumbs littered the floor. The spot Leo had claimed next to her was empty, which was a relief, but there was definitely a Leo-sized imprint. How long had they been there watching Indiana Jones? They had finished the first movie just to grunt in amusement when the next movie conveniently started playing .
“No clams,” Leo pounded the door again. “I’ve been up since the sun and have decided we need a redo of yesterday. Just get dressed. Shower. Do whatever you gotta do but be ready in thirty minutes. You won’t want to miss this.”
He sounded excited. He was all giddy. What could be a do-over of yesterday? Another short hike to the beach and a breakfast that didn’t end in violent spewing? That did sound like a dream, but she wasn’t quite willing to risk a bite to eat just yet.
She showered, pulled on the sweatpants she’d slept in, and for good measure, the matching sweatshirt. They were only a few floors up but she swore she felt the building sway with the frigid and ferocious breeze. Or maybe she was just lightheaded. Probably the latter.
She brushed her teeth (thank you DoorDash driver), downed some water, and knocked on the adjoining door.
“Camaro? You decent? I’m ready.”
He swung the door open before she was done speaking, wearing the brightest smile, showing no indication of how close he was to death the previous night. He opted to wear his muddy jeans, leaving the hot pants on the floor. Probably for the best. They were a single broken stitch away from giving her another free show.
Great. Now she was wondering what underwear he wore. If any.
Great, she could feel her face heating. Get it together, Sage!
She scowled at his pretty face. “You bounce back well.”
He shrugged. “Some carbs will do that. I grabbed you a bagel. Got you strawberry cream cheese too." He wiggled his eyebrows and thrust the paper plate with the bagel on it toward her.
"Why strawberry?” What she meant to ask was “How on earth did you know that was my favorite especially since I never have it in the house because I’d just eat it straight out of the tub and I do not need that temptation lying around.”
He smiled. “I just know.”
His smile really was like sunshine.
Sage suddenly felt the urge to run her hands through his perfectly messy hair. Instead she looked at the bagel. Was she just really hungry because she’d emptied her stomach completely last night or was she still nauseous? He must have known about her internal conflict because he said, “The first bite is the scariest, the second bite is the most satisfying.”
She took a leap of faith and discovered he was right. That bagel really hit the spot. She ate it as they walked to his car. She was ready to go home and take the longest nap of her life.
“So, what’s the surprise?” she asked. “That the sun is shining and we survived the night?”
Leo shuddered. “A miracle. And most miracles deserve to be shouted from the rooftops but I would appreciate it if we kept this epic tale of survival between us.”
“I wish to forget the events of the last fifteen hours, please.”
Leo nodded. “Great, because I have something amazing to show you. Something that will blow the memories of last night down the toilet.”
“No reminders of toilets, please. I can still hear the clams mocking me.”
Leo started the car. “Well, it’s not clams we’ll be meeting today, Love.”
Ten minutes later Sage screamed, “Whale watching?” She turned to him as he basically pulled her kicking and screaming from the cab of the SUV. “Are you insane? Haven’t our stomachs endured enough?”
He set her in front of him and gripped her shoulders. “Miss Moon. This is a once-in-a-lifetime event. There is a pod of humpback whales not even a quarter of a mile off the coast here. The sea is absolute glass. We will never get a chance to see these creatures like this again, probably ever.” He pulled the hair from the side of her face, exposing her neck to the chilly air. Why were his hands so big? Why was he looking intently at her like that with that little furrow in his brow? Did she have something in her teeth? Why did he smell so good?
She tried to take a step back but his hand held her firm. Then he caressed her like he was familiar, familiar, with her. Like touching her neck was the most natural thing in the world. Goosebumps erupted down her spine. How dare rough hands be so gentle?
Then he leaned in, eyes serious, pulling a rogue hair away from her eyes, using his thumb to caress a sensitive spot on her neck.
She wanted to step away again, but she also wanted to lean in because he smelled…good? Why would hotel soap smell so good on this man? It must be the salt air. Must be th e near-death experience of losing every liquid in her body making her have a new perspective on beautiful things in life. And why was he so close? And why did she want him closer?
“There,” he said, taking a step back and releasing her from that…moment.
“What?” she raised a hand to her neck where he had been caressing her neck. Leo grabbed her hand and pulled it away. “It’s a Dramamine patch, just in case. But I am told there is nary a wave to be seen. Still, it's better to get some anti-nausea medicine in us before we start.” He placed a patch on his own neck.
“Leo,” she groaned like it was a curse. “It’s the ocean. Of course, there are going to be waves.”
“If you throw up I’ll make dinner for a week and do all the clean-up.”
He pretty much already did that. He was kind of a good cook and it looked like he realized this might be a useful bargaining chip. But she wasn’t one to fold so easily.
“Two weeks.”
“Deal.”
In the end, it didn’t matter, because it was the best trip of her entire life.
There were whales jumping and splashing and they were so close she swore she could smell the krill on their breath. There were only a few passengers and the crew was so knowledgeable. Baby whales showed off and even dolphins decided to join the group. Apparently this was one of the last migrating pods of the year and they were sure making a show about being late to the party .
The sea wasn’t exactly glass, and more than once Sage found herself caged between Leo’s arms, his large body behind her acting as a wall while they skimmed over a few rogue waves. She tried not to linger when their bodies collided but he was warm and it felt nice and she may have “accidentally” let her body rest against him a moment longer than she should have. She was probably still suffering from food poisoning symptoms. It was the only explanation.
Leo and Sage actually enjoyed their time together, which was probably the most shocking event of all. They didn’t even argue about music or books or movies. Instead, they marveled at the whales, debating (in a friendly sort of way) which whale was cuter, which one was cooler, and what type of whale they would both be. (Sage would be a beluga because she talked a lot and Leo would definitely be a whale shark because he was such a poser but he was okay with that answer because they are “definitely the best looking” type of whale.)
After several hours of slowly chugging behind the beautiful creatures, the tour headed back to the dock, waving goodbye to the whales as they jumped and played in the sea.
Once they got back to land, Leo trotted into the little gift shop, buying them both (matching) sweatshirts that said, “Someone thinks I’m Whale-y Cute” with a map of Florence Oregon on the back. They had gotten soaked due to a rogue whale getting a little too close and splashing sea mist all over the onlookers and Sage wasn’t too shy about admitting how cold she was.
Sage cracked up when Leo tossed her the sweatshirt but she was more than happy to rid herself of the damp Walmart special she was wearing in exchange for the whale sweatshirt. “Thanks,” she said, “It’s a good look.” She stared at Leo who kind of rocked purple.
“I’m your assistant, aren’t I? Bob needs to stay true to the purple brand.”
Sage laughed and looked out the window, letting her mind wander. Today had been one of the best days, and it had nothing to do with her “brand” at all.
Oh, and she did get seasick and barfed all over the side of that pretty little boat (RIP strawberry cream cheese bagel) but in the end she considered it a win because Leo promised homemade pasta for dinner.
T he days after their food poisoning turned epic whale adventure rebound passed in a blur. Sage was busy with gaming and streaming more than she had in the last month. Was it because she was suddenly very aware that a man was living with her and making delicious food and that he smelled nice? Maybe.
But she was also a busy woman, too. Okay.
But also, Leo Camaro was in her house making her pasta and tea and being…nice? Sure, he was still a brat but he was kind of funny. And she actually caught him being nice to Squash and he even offered to flap the umbrella for her when Sage got stuck on a call. It was quite the sight to see from her office window, but he had the technique down perfectly, and Squash was spared being an appetizer for the hawk (at least for another day, Leo had to remind her) .
Things had found sort of a routine between them. And that was scary because Leo fit into her routine well. And she didn’t need someone changing things up on her when she was busy trying to find her new routine without George.
So, yeah, she might have been a little distant.
She might have skipped dinner once or twice in order to squeeze in more gaming. And that had been her plan for the evening too, but there was something different about the scent wafting up from the kitchen. It wasn’t Leo’s regular cooking. Sure, she could smell the grilled asparagus and streak, and were those mashed potatoes he was making?
But that smell…it was something else.
She quickly logged off her stream, (it had been an unscheduled pop-up anyway) and nearly broke her ankle on the stairs on her sprint to the kitchen.
“She’s alive!” Leo yelled. “What? Was I being too loud again? It’s not my fault your mixer is so old it’s practically become a fossil and I have to whisper sweet nothings to it just to get it turned on?—”
“Quit seducing the kitchen equipment and tell me what that smell is!”
“First off,” Leo patted the old kitchen mixer with a gentle softness, “she likes it when I talk pretty to her. And secondly, what you are smelling is tender hanger steak cooked to perfection?—”
“The tea.” Sage nearly cried.
Leo smiled, pushing the tin and a steaming mug toward her. “Happy birthday.”
Scratch that. Sage cried.