13. Sage
“Stay,” he says, voice steady but low enough that it echoes around the small, dim space of his living room, barely audible above the whisper of the ceiling fan. “You know you want to.”
The couch groans a little under our weight as I roll toward him, the world a swirl of exhaustion and pleasure. It's dark out, the only light coming from a lamp in the corner, half-covered by one of Ian's t-shirts. Our clothes are somewhere on the floor, too, tossed in a frenzy of making it from the door to the sofa.
“Did you forget what we talked about last night?” I give him my best scowl, which is never really very convincing, and push his shoulder. My hand connects with solid muscle that tenses just enough to make me lose focus. “I can’t show up at school looking like a hot mess.”
He catches my hand, locking his fingers around mine with a force that sends a flutter through my chest. “You do look hot, but you don’t ever look like a mess. You look like you spent the night in my bed.” His mouth twitches into a smile that feels like coming home, every single time. “Letting me worship your gorgeous body.”
“In your bed, on your couch, against the front door?—”
He lets out a bark of laughter that fills the room before glancing over to wink at me. “You really love reminding me about the front door, huh?”
“It was an unforgettable moment.” I reach for my phone, trying to convince myself not to settle in any deeper, even as my body molds perfectly to his.
He stares down into my eyes. “I fucking love you.”
“I love you, too. And I’m ready to try out the door again.”
Ian grins wider, looking pleased. I give up the fight and end up staying right where I am, breathing the soft, spent air of the room, letting his heat radiate into me until there's no more space between us. The lamp gives off a warm glow that settles into the fabric of his shirt, onto the planes of his face, into every corner of the night.
“I’ll make sure you get to school on time tomorrow morning,” he says, not letting go of my hand .
“You’d better,” I laugh. I reach up and wrap a piece of my hair around my finger. It springs loose the second I let go, taking a page from my self-control manual. “You grew up here, too. You already know that everyone knows everyone else’s business. I can picture the Riverbend Ridge Gazette headline now.”
“Hot Fireman Sets Off Alarms with Gorgeous Third-Grade Teacher,” Ian announces, his voice a touch too official. “Witnesses say Sage Higgins, twenty-three, was seen leaving his home at five a.m. every morning this week.”
I swat at him again, giggling.
“Honestly, Sage, if we’re not the talk of the town by now?—”
“We are,” I half groan, half sigh. It's easier not to think about what people are saying. About me. About Ian. About us, hurtling at breakneck speed toward something that might just be perfect. It’s hard not to care about the rumors, but I’m trying. For him. For me. For us.
“Who gives a fuck?” He sits up a little, staring into me like I’m the only thing that makes sense. And the stupid thing is, maybe he’s right. “I love you.” He points at me and then back at himself. “And you love me. No one else matters except our families, and they’re on our side. ”
“You’re right.” I sit back against him. “Who gives a flying fig?”
“I’m going to teach you to use proper swear words one of these days.” He laughs and places soft kisses on the sensitive spot under my ear.
“We’ll see about that.” I text Eloise and make sure Winnie is okay for the night. We’ve been leaving Winnie at home with Eloise so we don’t interrupt my little dog’s schedule too much, but I’m missing the little stinker like crazy.
Me
I’m staying at Ian’s again tonight. Is that okay with you and Winnie?
Weezy
I already figured. No biggie. We’re doing great.
She sends a photo of her lap with Winnie curled up snoozing.
Me
Thank you! Give her a big kiss for me. Love you guys.
I get a picture of my spoiled dog looking like the world is coming to an end as Eloise kisses her.
Weezy
Back at ya .
We stay like this for a long while, the world narrowed to only what exists between us. When I finally get up, my legs tangle in the blanket he’s thrown over us and I end up straddling him, face flushed with embarrassment and excitement.
I want to live in this moment forever, crammed into a single second of laughter and want. He reaches for me, pulling me back down, his breath warm against my neck.
We eventually get comfortable, our legs intertwined beneath the warm quilt, our bodies fitting together seamlessly, just like how our lives are coming together.
I kiss him and drift off to sleep in his embrace, happier than I’ve ever been in my life.
A week later, he’s got his arm around me again, but we’re at my place now, in my too-cute, too-small living room with my personality splattered on every single inch. My throw pillows. My color-coded book spines. My band posters. It's us surrounded by me, and it's one hell of a reminder of how far things have come.
We decided to stay here for a few days to let Winnie get used to sharing me with Ian. So far, my little diva has decided Ian’s all hers and I’m just out of luck .
Ian looks as big and bold here as he does at his place. He doesn't care that my IKEA furniture is nothing like the much nicer furniture at his home. He's right where he belongs—with me. I’m getting used to being with him night after night. I’m not going to lie; I’m freaking addicted.
I sink into him, curling my legs under me, fitting my body against his as he flips through TV channels and dismisses each one. He’s not interested in the rest of the world either, and that calms me in a way I didn't expect. Maybe we don’t need to know everything right now. Maybe we just need to know each other.
“See? It’s not a problem switching back and forth between our places.” He brushes his mouth across the top of my head.
“Mm,” I murmur. “This isn’t so bad.”
“We can make it bad,” he says, that heat rising in his voice again.
And suddenly it is bad, my IKEA couch wasn’t made for the workout we end up giving it. And my face heats thinking about what my elderly neighbors might’ve heard. Thank God, Eloise is at her parents’ house for dinner night, but poor Winnie is curled up in my bedroom pouting over her abandonment.
The next morning, I stumble out the front door, already running late, and find a note taped to my front door .
We’re old, not deaf!
My face heats as I walk down the hallway. Maybe I need to suggest we stay at his home and just bring Winnie there with us. I just hope my neighbors don’t spread this around town.
As I drive to school, I realize I want to spend every single night with Ian. I want to wrap myself up in him until there’s no part of me that isn't him, no part of him that isn't me.
He's right. We are the talk of the town, and I don’t give a flying fig.
It’s Saturday night and rain drives hard against the window of the diner. Ian’s got me pinned under his all-consuming gaze, holding my hand and my heart with equal determination.
The world outside blurs, streaked with water from the late-evening rain. Ian’s fingers wrap around mine, sending lightning-bolt tingles through my arm as his eyes bore into me.
It's been weeks of blissful, cozy nights spent in his arms. My place, his place. It doesn’t matter .
"Move in with me,” he blurts out the moment the waitress walks away with our orders. “I want to spend every night with you wrapped in my arms," he says, like every wish I've ever had.
My heart thunders, time folding in on itself until there is only Ian, only now, only his unflinching gaze holding me in place. Only my stupid, perfect mouth finally forming words. “Yes, I’ll move in.”
I didn’t expect to get here so soon, melting like putty under Ian's icy-blue stare, but it feels like we’ve known each other our entire lives.
The next morning, I’m sitting at the small breakfast bar in my apartment. The bracelet dangles delicately on my wrist, its charms clinking softly with each nervous movement of my fingers.
The last time Eloise saw me fidget with it this much was two years ago during our college days, when caffeine had fueled our late-night study sessions and sleep was a distant luxury.
Taking a deep, steadying breath, I muster up the courage and blurt out, "I'm moving in with Ian." Her eyebrows lift slightly, a subtle arch that hints at mild curiosity rather than genuine surprise. Her nod is knowing, as if she had already anticipated this moment.
"I figured," Eloise says, rolling her eyes playfully, a gesture that reassures me she isn’t bothered by my announcement.
"How'd you guess?" I ask, genuinely curious about her intuition.
“It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure it out," she replies with a smirk. "You’ve met each other's parents, you’ve been spending every night with him for weeks, and you’re even willing to share Winnie’s attention with him.” The list of clues she rattles off is indeed quite telling.
I sigh, acknowledging how transparent I must have been. “Oof.”
Eloise grins at me, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “I’m actually looking forward to having the apartment all to myself,” she confesses. “It’s time for me to be a big girl, too.”
“I hope you find Mr. Right soon,” I suggest, trying to be encouraging.
“Not happening in this lifetime,” she declares, shaking her head with such fervor that her hair swings around her face.
Famous last words. The thought lingers in the air between us like a shared secret neither of us is quite ready to voice.