Chapter 22 Brady
brADY
The front door closes with a soft click behind me as we walk into the apartment after dinner.
I feel content. Happy. And Sage has been glowing, her eyes bright, her smile easy.
Knowing I had something to do with that makes me want to puff up with pride.
I can’t take my eyes off her as she walks in front of me.
I help her out of her coat, my fingers brushing her arm. Even that tiny amount of contact feels electric now that things are different between us. I have to take a deep breath and hold it for a few seconds to try and control my reaction.
“I don't know about you, but I’m stuffed,” I say, rubbing my stomach.
Sage laughs as she sits down to take off her shoes. “Same. This baby doesn't leave a lot of room for food, no matter how delicious it is.”
I crouch down in front of her and take over undoing the buckle on the low heels she’s wearing. “Let me.”
Her lips part, and her tongue darts out to moisten them as she nods.
Fuck me.
“We'll have to go back so you can try that chili shrimp bowl you were drooling over.”
My attempt to defuse the sexual tension works as Sage grimaces.
“Not until I can handle spice again, those jalapeno poppers smelled so good and so wrong, all at the same time.”
I chuckle as I stand once more. “Fair enough. Who knew our baby would be as wimpy as their dad when it comes to hot stuff.”
“I mean, they do say a woman's cravings often come from the father,” she teases, looking over her shoulder at me as she walks into the kitchen, her hips swaying ever so slightly. “Maybe the same is true for things the baby can't tolerate.”
“If so, then I’m sorry for ruining your enjoyment of burning your tastebuds,” I fire right back, earning a throaty laugh from Sage.
I follow her into the kitchen and reach for two water glasses, filling them from the tap before handing her one.
“So, did I pass the first date test?”
Tilting her head to one side, Sage taps her chin with a finger, fighting back a smile. “Hmm. Let’s see. High marks for location, ambience, food…”
“And the company was top-notch, right?” I interrupt.
“I mean, the company was nice to look at,” she starts teasingly. “But you did talk an awful lot about baseball.”
“Hey, you asked the question,” I protest.
With a tinkling laugh, Sage shakes her head. “I didn't know it would come with a TED Talk.”
“Listen, if you're serious about being with me, you need to know the basics of the game.”
“Good thing I have a live-in tutor,” she replies primly.
“Good thing,” I echo back with a smirk.
The energy shifts as we stare at each other, the space between us heating up and somehow growing even smaller. But then something changes on Sage's face. Her eyes flare wide as she drops her gaze and sips her water. I clear my throat and lean back against the counter.
“Are you excited about the ultrasound tomorrow?” I ask, changing the subject completely.
She nods. “Excited and nervous. What about you?”
“Same.”
Silence falls once again. It's agony waiting for her to decide her next move. I pushed her last night, not letting her retreat from her feelings and from what was happening between us. But I can't be the one to push every time she gets scared.
“Brady,” she starts hesitantly, biting on her lower lip. “Tonight was amazing. Truly, I had a wonderful time with you and I don't want you to think I'm backing out or running away.” Her throat moves as she swallows. “But everything that scares me didn’t just disappear overnight.”
She’s looking at me with pleading eyes, hoping I understand what she’s saying. I straighten, keeping my gaze on her, intent on reassuring her that I do.
“I know, Sage. I'm not asking for any more than just this. We'll take it as slow as you need.” I take a step closer, and she's finally within reach. When her hands lift and land on my chest, I exhale with relief.
“We've got plenty of time. There’s no need to rush anything,” I say softly.
She exhales shakily. “Okay. Thank you. But we could…I mean, we could kiss?”
It’s framed more as a question, and that’s not quite consent enough for me. Licking my lips, I nod.
“We could. If you want to.”
“I want to.” She moves in closer.
My grip on the countertop behind me is painfully tight.
But necessary. I dip my head down to press a kiss to the bare skin between her neck and shoulder.
She shivers under my touch, her head turning slightly toward me.
I take it as an invitation and kiss her again, and again, traveling up the column of her throat, along her jaw, until I reach her lips.
Finally, I let go of the counter, and my hands find their way to the base of her neck and the small of her back as I hold her to me and take what I've wanted for so damn long.
It would be so easy to lose myself to this. To kissing her. It feels like a grand slam every damn time.
But I won’t risk losing her, not when I only just got her. I break the kiss, gratified to notice she's breathing just as unsteadily as I am.
“If we keep going, I don't know if I'll be able to stop,” I murmur, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. She sighs and nods, bringing her cheek to rest on my chest as her arms wrap around my body.
“You’re a really good man.”
I hold her like that for a minute, mentally reciting stats of my favourite major league players to convince my dick to stand down.
After her second yawn in less than a minute, I step back.
“Bedtime, little mama.”
Her sleepy smile makes it incredibly hard to do the right thing and not kiss her again. Instead, I take her hand and lead her from the kitchen, flicking off the lights as we go. Coming to a stop outside her room, I turn to stand in front of her, giving her hand one last squeeze.
“Sleep well, Sage.”
“Good night, Brady.”
Then she slips through the door, and I step back as she closes it softly.
I go through the motions of getting ready for bed with a smile on my face. But later, as I lie underneath my sheet, staring up at the ceiling, sleep evades me. Every cell in my body is alive and humming, thinking about the woman sleeping just down the hall.
It feels crazy to be thinking like this, but Sage could be it for me.
Just as I roll over for the tenth time, punching my pillow, trying to figure out why I can't get comfortable, there's a quiet knock at the door.
“Sage?” I whisper.
The door slowly opens and she steps into my room, her hair tousled like she, too, has been tossing and turning in bed. She’s wearing a pair of extremely short pajama shorts and a baggy T-shirt that I instantly recognize.
“Is that my shirt?” I blurt out, blinking my eyes.
“Sorry,” she winces, twisting her hands in the hem of my shirt. “My pajamas don’t fit and I saw it in the clean laundry and I…I’ll wash it tomorrow.”
She starts to retreat and I throw back the covers. “Wait. Don’t go, it's fine. What's wrong?”
“I couldn't sleep.”
“Me neither,” I admit, and she takes a step inside my room.
“It’s just, I slept so well last night. Do you think we could…”
“Of course,” I say immediately. “Come here.” Moving the blanket aside, I tap the mattress next to me. Sage slips in, lying on her side.
I settle in next to her and finger the oversized sleeve of what is definitely one of my old beer league baseball team T-shirts. “I was looking for this the other day,” I tease quietly, and even in the dim light filtering through the curtains, I see her cheeks darken.
“I don't like wearing tight shirts when I sleep,” she mumbles.
With a chuckle, I hold her chin between my thumb and forefinger and lean in to kiss her. “Keep it. Looks better on you anyway.”
Rolling onto my back, I open my arms. “C’mon, let's get some sleep.”
Her head finds my chest like we've done this a million times, not just once. I brush the hair back from her face and kiss the top of her head.
Sage lets out a contented sigh. “You make me feel like I can breathe again. I haven’t felt that way since my mom died.”
I don’t reply right away, I’m too stunned by her confession. And soon, her body starts to relax in my arms. She fits with me like she was always meant to be here. It's peaceful.
And as I finally drift off to sleep, one thought remains.
I can breathe easier, too, with her in my arms.
The next day when we walk into the hospital for the ultrasound, I’m holding Sage’s hand in mine. After we check in and take a seat in a waiting room that smells like hand sanitizer, she lays her head on my shoulder, placing our still linked hands on her thigh.
Another woman, who looks to be much more pregnant than Sage, walks out of a door that I assume leads to one of the ultrasound rooms. She looks at us with red-rimmed eyes, and I feel Sage’s body tense.
“You’re really lucky to have a guy like him. These appointments aren’t always easy,” the stranger says softly to her.
I feel her suck in a breath and look down to see Sage give the woman an understanding smile and nod before the other woman walks away.
The moment feels charged. Poignant. Both of us realize that could’ve been Sage, showing up to all of these appointments by herself, weathering the highs and lows of pregnancy, childbirth, and raising a baby alone.
She turns her face into me, reaching her other hand around her belly to awkwardly hug me. Her words are muffled, but clear enough to make my throat feel thick with emotions of my own.
“She’s right. I am really lucky to have you.”
“Sage McCallister?”
The ultrasound technician’s voice stops me from being able to reply. We stand up together, and still holding her hand tightly in mine, move toward the door, only for the tech to hold up her hand.
“Actually, just Sage for now. We’ll take a few measurements, then call you in.”
Sage turns a panicked look my way, and I force a reassuring smile in response. “I’ll be waiting right here, little mama.”
She gives me a jerky nod before dropping my hand. As soon as the door closes behind the technician, I stumble back to the chairs and sink down, blowing out a breath. And I wait.