21. Sage
TWENTY-ONE
SAGE
Every word Mac says is another punch to my gut, a knife in my heart. It feels like we are back to that night. I can practically see the blood that gushed from his head.
His eyes are just as scared now as they were then. Telling me about the events of that night dragged him back, too. The entire scene brought back to life in vivid color.
“I didn’t want to leave you, Sage. You have to believe me,” he begs, turning on the couch to finally face me.
That’s the final blow. His sad eyes meet mine. The painful realization that I punished a broken kid for doing what he thought was for the best. I let my anger keep me away from him. Keep me from answering his calls. Keep me from having him back in my life sooner.
He left in a misguided attempt to keep me safe.
He left out of fear. I knew he was scared of Dave, I knew that.
But I was so fucking angry. I’ve been so angry for so long.
I skimmed over the threats Dave yelled. It wasn’t the first time Dave threatened to kill him, I didn’t understand why this time it hit different.
Until now. All I could see was Mac sneaking out.
Leaving me behind. Abandoning me just like my dad did.
I can’t keep my distance anymore. I pull him towards me, crashing him into me in a tight embrace. My arms cling to him. His arms circle around me, hugging me just as tightly. Tears land on my neck, and I break.
“I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry, Mac.” I bury my face in his neck. He smells like engine grease and weed, but also Mac. My Mac. The boy I grew up with.
God, how could I have been so fucking selfish? I lost two fucking years with him because I couldn’t deal with my abandonment issues.
Both of us are wrecked. Powerful, full-body sobs as everything we held back for two years crashes around us.
I hated him. After he left, I hated him. I hated my mom for drinking, hated her for dying. But the anger I had for Mac was so much more. It consumed me, corroding every good memory until all that was left was ash.
Unlike Mom, Mac had never let me down. He was there for me every day since I was ten. He kept every promise, every time. So, when he left, when he broke a promise for the first time, I couldn’t get over it.
“Look at me.” I move back just enough so I can see his tear-stained face. The eyes I’ve looked into for most of my life gut me.
Mac has always been so strong, always able to do what had to be done.
When Mom got alcohol poisoning when I was a kid, he stayed calm.
When he’d climb into my room after Dave knocked him around, he never cried.
Never broke down. Seeing him so broken only happened once.
And it hurts just as much to see it now.
Everything I want to say to him flies around my head too fast to grab. I’m sorry isn’t enough. So, I do the only thing I can think of. I kiss him. I kiss him with every fucked-up emotion I can conjure.
His lips taste of salt from his tears, and my heart breaks a little more. He kisses me back, his tongue saying all the things that are trapped in his head. It’s not crazed and rushed like the other times. It’s slow and sweet, my hands framing his face. His holding me impossibly tight.
We were both so fucking dumb. Playing with emotions we never learned to control. But I fucking promise to never leave him alone again. If he asks me to run, I’ll run.
My mom was right.
Mac is my soulmate.
Somehow, we end up back in bed, our clothes left like breadcrumbs. Not my tiny twin, but the newly clean, bleached bed in Mom’s room. I always thought it would be weird being back here. But I honestly haven’t thought about it.
Not with Mac laying on top of me. Not with his hands roaming my naked body. Not when he’s looking down at me like I’m something remarkable. I’m pretty sure the entire trailer could burn to the ground right now, and I wouldn’t notice.
We’ve been rock hard for what feels like forever.
But neither of us are in any rush to address it.
We just keep kissing and letting our hands explore.
Pushing ourselves close to release, then naturally slowing back down.
It’s weird. It’s nothing I’ve ever done with anyone. Just lying naked and making out.
I think we are both too emotionally raw to take it further. Too many heartbreaks in one night. Or maybe he’s torturing us both to pay for all our stupidity. Either way, I don’t fucking care. Every kiss steals another piece of my sanity.
Mac. Mac. Mac.
He’s everywhere. He’s consuming me, shattering me and putting me back together with every kiss. I thought it would be weird being trapped under him. But it feels so goddamn right, so good, I don’t have time to think.
The taste of salt is long gone. Now it’s just him. He’s all I feel.
“Fuck, baby, you’re driving me crazy.” His words ghost across my neck, giving a teasing bite to cement his words into my skin. His hips thrust, his cock gliding over mine. Every nerve is alive, every point of contact noted and documented as extraordinary.
“Asshole,” I moan. My own hips lift off the bed to help the friction between us, tingling at the base of my spine with every shift. Every time our cocks rut against each other, air gets lodged in my throat. Neck arching, my head pushes back into the pillow.
“Fuckkk—” Whatever I was going to say next is swallowed by Mac. His mouth molds to mine, his tongue thrusting into my mouth.
I tense. My whole body frozen underneath him as hot ropes of cum shoot out of my cock. My fingers dig into the muscles on his back, encouraging him not to stop. He doesn’t. He keeps thrusting against me. Spreading the mess onto us both.
He presses his hips down, thrusting harder, then he’s following me into bliss. A sexy rumble moves from his chest and into my mouth. The kissing starts to slow down, less aggressive after we were both chased off the cliff, more languid like before.
I’m never letting him leave me. Wherever he goes, I’ll follow.