Chapter 14 Sadie
SADIE
Iwake up to sunlight and the weight of him.
Danny’s arm is draped across my waist like it’s supposed to be there, like it never stopped being there. His body’s warm behind me. His breath is soft against the back of my neck, and the sheets are tangled around us.
My first thought: This feels good.
My second: This can’t last.
I keep my eyes closed and try to stay still. If I move, it becomes real. If I stay, I can pretend it’s a dream I haven’t woken from yet.
But the problem is that I am awake.
And Danny’s still here.
I shift slightly, and his grip tightens instinctively. His fingers curl against my stomach like his body already knows I’m trying to leave. He murmurs something half-asleep, half-conscious. It sounds like my name.
God, why does he do everything right?
I open my eyes, letting them adjust to the light pouring in.
Last night felt hidden, almost, because what we were doing was in the dark.
I think about what he said, the dirty and the loving talk, and my heart begins to race.
Everything about last night felt like a rerun of how we used to be, except the sex.
God, when he said no, I wanted to cry. And not because he didn’t want me. I knew he did, but because he knew I wouldn’t have been able to let go. He was putting my feelings first.
Hadn’t he always done that? I’m the one who wouldn’t accept it.
Danny shifts behind me, then presses a kiss to my shoulder. “You’re awake,” he murmurs.
“I never really slept.”
“Sounds like regret.” His voice is still rough.
I just sigh. “Not regret. Just reality.”
He doesn’t pull away. “Do we have to do this part yet?” he asks. “The thinking part?”
I smile despite myself. “It’s kind of my thing.”
“You do it too much.”
“You don’t do it enough.”
“Balance,” he says, nuzzling his face into the crook of my neck. “We’re back to our usual dynamic.”
I turn slightly to look at him. His hair’s a mess. His eyes are soft, tired, and way too full of knowing. It would be so easy to kiss him again, or let this moment stretch a little longer.
I sit up, clutching the sheet to my chest, and swing my legs over the edge of the bed. The morning air and cool hardwood floor hit my skin like a sharp reminder.
Danny props himself up on one elbow, and I can feel his eyes on me. “Sadie.”
“I know,” I say. “It’s okay.”
He waits, like he’s hoping I’ll keep talking.
But I don’t have the language for this. My heart wants to stay in bed, and my brain wants to run, and I’ve no idea which to choose.
I reach for his T-shirt that is lying on the floor and quickly throw it over myself.
It feels like armor, even though it’s his armor.
“I’ll make coffee,” I offer, like it’s neutral ground.
Danny doesn’t argue, but before I walk out, I hear him say quietly behind me, “I don’t think last night was a mistake.”
I nod, then pause in the doorway.
That nod came without thinking.
I head to the kitchen, the wood floor cool under my feet. I glance at the clock and see it’s past eight. My morning routine is already sabotaged. I start the coffee and stare out the window overlooking the bay. It’s peaceful and quiet, but it feels like there is something on the horizon.
He said it wasn’t a mistake, and maybe it wasn’t. But that doesn’t mean everything is simple.
I grip the counter and stare at the tile, replaying last night over and over.
It was fun, and things were normal. Teasing but not overboard.
Fun but not extreme. None of it was planned, and it was an amazing night.
Danny showed up in the exact way I always said he wasn’t mature enough to do.
He knew me too well, steadying me instead of pushing me further.
He didn’t take. He waited. Patiently, too, I might add.
It actually makes me sad that maybe I’m the one who’s been sabotaging us from the start.
And if I had opened my eyes a little to a different side of things, accepted what's different than how I think things should be, we’d be in a different spot right now.
I take out two mugs, fill them with coffee, and pull out the milk and sugar. I hear him coming down the hall.
“You always make the best coffee, even when you’re mad at me.”
“I’m not mad at you,” I say, handing him a cup without meeting his eyes.
“Then what are you?”
I shrug and stare at my coffee. “Scared, tired, confused.” I finally look at him, and my heart races. God, he looks so good. “And really, really aware that you’re standing shirtless in my kitchen, and I’m wearing your T-shirt like a walking cliché.”
He laughs softly. “It’s a good look on you.”
He’s leaning against the counter, feet crossed, mug in one hand, the other resting on the counter. He looks like he belongs here, like this is how we’d start every morning together.
“Danny,” I say, and my voice catches.
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.” He watches me, but he doesn’t move. “I need to check in with Matt. I’m going to head to the winery now, but I need to get there before the place opens.”
“Yeah, I should get home now anyway.”
“I can drive you?”
He shakes his head, again giving me grace to be alone. “I’ll walk, it’s not far, and it’s nice out.” He looks at me, waiting. And I don’t know what else he wants. “I’ll need my shirt, though.” He smirks, and I close my eyes, letting out a breath.
“Just give me a minute to change, and you can have it.” I force my feet to move, but all I can think is that I don’t want to leave this spot.