Chapter 23
Adam
W e’re in the car, driving back to Sage’s place, when I realize I want to take her to dinner—at my parents’ house. My fingers grip the steering wheel as the idea enters my head, and I know that even though it’s fucking crazy, there’s no way I can let it go now.
Glancing over at her in the passenger seat, my cock twitches in my pants as I remember what her body felt like in my hands. How perfect that little ass is and how hard I came just from rubbing my dick on her.
My memory of the night we had sex is hazy from alcohol and adrenaline. I want to remember what it feels like to really sink my cock inside her. I want to feel how tight she is, how warm, how sweet, and how dirty.
What happened just now in my father’s office was crossing the line, but at least we crossed it together.
I could read the expression of need and desire on her face.
She came at the same moment I did. That’s just how in sync we are.
How mind-blowing would the sex have been if we let ourselves truly give in?
What kind of man does that make me if I treat this girl like she means nothing more to me than a quick fuck? If I’ve disregarded her for so long but suddenly find myself wanting to know how she feels from the inside.
It makes me a piece of shit. It makes me no better than him .
My head is getting flooded with guilt when I truly need to keep my focus here. Take down Truett. Ruin the man who took everything from me.
I’ve fucked with his work. Now I’m ready to fuck with his home.
“Will you come to dinner with me?” I ask, glancing sideways at her. My eyes catch on the way her soft-pink waves blow across her face, revealing the constellation tattoo on the side of her neck.
“Dinner?” she asks, curling her hair behind her ear. “Sure.”
“Perfect.”
We pull up to her apartment and sit in silence for a moment, and it feels like that moment in the office is lingering in the air, thick with tension.
“Do you want to come up?” she asks softly as she stares out the window. “I’m going to edit the video for the app.”
Something is pulling me up to her apartment. A force that promises more than just sex. I see the way she looks at me. How she wants to fix me. Comfort me. Offer me more than my family could.
Fuck. It’s really messing with my head. And messing with my head is not part of the plan.
“No. I’ll go home, but be ready for me to pick you up at five for dinner.”
She’s opening the door before I even finish my sentence. Hovering over the open door, she leans in with a sympathetic expression as she nods. “Okay, Adam. See you then.”
Then she closes it and walks away.
* * *
My afternoon was spent tossing and turning on my couch, sleep evading me until I let my mind wander to the tattoos on her skin, tracing each one in my head like my own form of meditation.
That’s what finally helped me nod off, and I slept so soundly that I barely woke in time to pick her up for dinner.
As I pull up to her apartment, I take out my phone and text Caleb. I’ve been an asshole brother for not talking to him more lately, but I can’t possibly bring him into this.
I’m bringing my girlfriend to dinner tonight.
He texts back almost immediately. I’m grinning at my phone with confusion as he responds.
Fuck yeah.
You seem to really like her. Which means Mom will like her.
Well, this is feeling too fucking real all of a sudden. And it settles heavily in my gut like dread as the passenger door opens and Sage slides into the seat next to me. She has on a pair of black chunky boots with a short green corduroy skirt…and a bra.
“You forgot your shirt,” I mutter as my eyes rake over her petite frame in my passenger seat. The only thing covering her bra is an open flannel shirt that’s so long the sleeves hang over her wrists. It’s an atrocious outfit…and she really should not look so good in it.
“I thought you’d like it,” she replies, beaming at me with her perfectly straight white teeth. When she catches me staring a moment too long, her smile fades. “What?”
I clench my jaw as I look forward, fighting a smile as I put the car into drive. “Nothing. I’m just…” My voice trails.
“Just what?”
“Just wondering what you’d look like,” I say, finishing my thought with a wince.
“What I would look like if…what?”
Glancing sideways at her, I start to feel bad for even bringing this up, but now I know she won’t let me let it go.
“If you were…normal,” I reply sheepishly.
Instead of pouting or getting mad, she laughs. “You mean, you wonder if you’d be attracted to me if I looked normal ,” she says, using air quotes.
I am attracted to you , I think but don’t say.
“No,” I say, quickly avoiding that accusation.
“Yes, you do,” she persists. “Here.” She pulls out her phone and scrolls through some apps as I drive.
Then as I pull up to a stoplight, she thrusts her phone in my face.
There on the screen is a blonde-haired young woman with a button nose, a dimpled chin, and straight white teeth in a cheesy grin.
She’s wearing an oversized green sweater and tiny shorts that barely peek out the bottom. She’s holding a key chain in her hand.
“I was seventeen. I got the keys to my first apartment. Out of my mother’s house and on my own for the first time.”
A smile creeps across my face against my will as I stare at the girl in the photo and see Sage.
One question answered. Would I still be attracted to her if she looked normal ? Yes.
It’s too bad she had to go and fuck it all up with that ring in her lip that her tongue is constantly fiddling with. And those tattoos all over her pretty skin, from her neck to her toes. And that pink fucking hair that looks like cotton candy in the sunshine.
“Answer your question?” she asks, giving me a mischievous grin.
I clear my throat, tightening my grip on the steering wheel.
“Was that scary?” I ask, changing the subject. “Moving out on your own at such a young age?”
She scoffs playfully. “Scary? No.”
Glancing sideways at her in the passenger seat, my eyes catch on the thick lashes as she blinks down at the photo on her phone.
“Not at all?” I ask.
“No. Sure, it was a struggle, but to me, the struggle meant I was free.”
“Was it so bad living with your mom?”
She shrugs. “We fought a lot. And I felt like I had to fight for her love. It was like she always wanted me to be grateful to her for the simplest things, things she should have done because she loved me. So I just decided that I was better off without it.”
The car grows quiet for a moment as I stare ahead at the road, thinking about what she just said. It strikes me how much I can relate to that, and not just about my father, but maybe about my faith too.
“So, where are we going?” she says with eagerness. I know I’m probably about to crush that excitement.
“My parents’ house.”
Her head snaps in my direction as her eyes widen in surprise. “What? Why?”
“Because I go every Sunday. Well, I used to. I haven’t been to Sunday dinner in six weeks, and I think it’s time I return…honey,” I say, adding on the romantic pet name with a teasing smile.
The shock on her face slowly morphs into frustration.
An adorable little divot appears between her brows as she glowers at me.
I can tell she’s working herself up, and I love that Sage doesn’t hold back.
She’s not like the women I date: quiet, compliant, shoving their feelings down to avoid confrontation.
“Adam, dear ,” she replies with grit. “The whole plan was to tarnish your reputation to ruin your father’s.
But you’re using me to irritate him. I know that was the plan, but you’re taking it all too far.
When are we going to get to torturing my ex with our fake relationship? So far, it’s all been about you.”
Tendrils of guilt and shame creep their way up my spine as I stare straight ahead, letting her words sink in. Then I snake my hand over to her thigh, resting it there as I look into her eyes.
“It’s just a casual family dinner,” I say softly, feeling tethered by her bright-blue eyes. “It’s really special to my mother, and I’ve missed it.”
The wrinkle between her brows slowly disappears. The tension in her shoulders melts away and she slides down against the seat.
I wasn’t going for sympathy and I wasn’t trying to manipulate her. What I said is true. I miss family dinners, and I don’t want to go alone. I don’t want to face my family’s scrutiny without someone by my side.
As we pull up to the house, I place the car into park behind Caleb’s SUV. After shaking off my nerves, I open the door and Sage does the same. We meet on the driveway, where I put out my hand and she slides hers into it.
When we reach the front door, I open it like I always do, feeling the eyes of the security camera on my back the entire time.
Leaving the front door unlocked on Sundays is another one of Mom’s wholesome traditions.
Normally this place is locked down like a prison, but she finds something symbolic in leaving it open one holy day a week, and not just for her children, but for anyone.
Of course, no one knows it’s unlocked, but she does. And that’s all that matters.
There’s chatter coming from the dining room as we step into the grand foyer. Sage squeezes my hand, pulling her plaid shirt a little tighter around her chest to cover herself. And as we take two steps inside, I catch sight of our reflection in the giant mirror over the entryway table.
Sage sees it too, because we both stop. For a moment, we stand there and stare.
There’s something about the sight of us together that holds my interest. It’s like I can’t look away.
Like I love the way she looks by my side.
Full of color and her skin speckled with art, she is far more interesting than my drab black-on-black appearance.