I can’t imagine badass Sage Mayson going around borrowing Monopoly money, but he did that, and he did it for me. “Screw it.” If I get hurt, if I end up brokenhearted, at least I can say I gave it a shot, that I took a chance. Since the moment I was diagnosed with kidney failure, I have worked on living a life without regrets, and I know I will regret not showing up to meet him if I don’t go.
Getting up off the floor, I start to close the briefcase then pause, take a five hundred dollar orange note off one of the stacks, and then pick up my purse, digging through until I find my wallet. Once I have it unzipped, I carefully place the note in the zipper compartment in the middle, and then drop it back in my bag. With that done, I close the briefcase and head for my bedroom, where I hurry up and get ready to leave.
Putting a light pink lip gloss on, I lean back away from the mirror, and then turn my head from side to side. I don’t want it to look like I’m trying too hard, so I leave my makeup light, only adding a few more swipes of mascara. My hair is still in the same style I wore to work, which is down with wavy curls that end at the tops of my breasts. Leaving the bathroom, I shut off the light and go to my room, where I change out of the slacks and heels I wore to the salon today, exchanging them for jeans and a pair of ballet flats. Then I take off my blazer and slip on a long, gray, cashmere cardigan over my simple black tank.
Looking at my refection in the mirror on the back of my bedroom door, I put a hand to my stomach that is filled with nervous butterflies since I made my decision to go meet Sage. Knowing I don’t have time to debate with myself about going, I head for the living room, grab my bag, my keys, and the briefcase, and then head downstairs to the garage to get in my car.
Driving down a long dirt road, through what can only be described as a forest, I look at the map displayed on my dashboard. The mapping system in my car told me that I arrived at my destination about three minutes ago, but I still haven’t seen a house, and I’m starting to freak myself out. It’s dark. I’m in the middle of nowhere, or I should say in the middle of the woods, and I’m pretty sure Bigfoot is going to walk out in front of my car at any moment.
Leaning forward to get closer to my windshield, I squint my eyes trying to see through the darkness that has engulfed me, when I notice something move off on the side of the road.
Please don’t be Bigfoot. Please don’t be Bigfoot, I pray inwardly, and then slam my foot on the brake when two deer run out of the woods and across the road. “Oh my God.” I hold my hand to my chest, feeling my heart beat hard against my palm. I pull in a breath then let it out slowly as I take my foot off the brake and start to drive forward, going much slower than I had been before.
It’s now seven, which means I’m late. My stomach tightens, and my palms start to sweat then my breath leaves on a whoosh as I come over a slight incline in the road, spotting a house, which is not a house at all, but a cottage. A white stucco cottage with bright blue, red, and yellow trim around the windows, and doors that make it look like it belongs in a fairy tale.
Pulling up slowly, my foot automatically hits the brake when I see Sage standing outside next to his car like he was just about to leave. I don’t know how long we stare at each other through the glass of my windshield, but it feels like a lifetime, and before I even realize he’s moved, he’s at the hood of my car then at my door, opening it up.
“Put it in park and turn it off,” he barks, making me jump.
“Sage—”
“Now,” he demands, and I fumble with the shifter to put my car in park then hit the button to shut down the engine. As soon as the lights go out, he unhooks my seatbelt and pulls me out of my seat.
“Sa—”
His name ends on a whimper as his hands take hold of my face gently and his mouth crashes down on mine. My toes curl in my ballet flats, and my arms wind around his neck so I don’t fly away. I don’t know how I did it, but I had forgotten what it’s like to have him kiss me. I forgot that it feels like the world around me has disappeared, leaving nothing but him and me. Feeling his tongue touch my bottom lip in a silent request for entrance, my mouth opens and I moan down his throat while digging my fingers into his shoulders, trying to keep myself from falling.
“Goddamn,” he growls, dragging his mouth away from mine and tucking my head under his chin. “Fuck me.” Hearing his heart beating wildly, I close my eyes and suck in a deep breath before whispering.
“I’m sorry I was late. Bigfoot ran across the road.” Pulling my head away from his chest, my eyes open and I find him looking at me curiously.
“Bigfoot?”
“What?” I frown.
“You said Bigfoot ran across the road,” he says, and I shake my head, trying to get my brain, which is totally fried from that kiss, to work again.
“A deer ran across the road, not Bigfoot. Though I thought for sure it was going to be Bigfoot. I didn’t know your house was in the middle of the woods.”
“I should have told you. I… fuck, I didn’t even think you’d show.”
“You gave me a million dollars in Monopoly money,” I reply quietly, feeling a smile lift at the corners of my mouth. I don’t know of another man who would put their ego aside and do what Sage did. I don’t know of another guy who would care enough to even try to win back someone they barely know.
“You know I’m sorry, right?” he asks, and I force him to let me go so I can take a step back, because he can’t be this close when I say what I need to tell him.
“Please.” I hold up my hand when he takes a step toward me, and I watch his eyes flash right before he lifts his chin and crosses his arms over his chest. “I should have forgiven you the first time you apologized. It wasn’t right of me to tell you I accepted your apology and not actually accept your apology. It also wasn’t right of me to lie about who Chris really is to me.”
“Who is he to you?” he questions, and I can hear an edge of jealousy in his tone but I ignore it.
“My best friend. He’s been my best friend since I was five.”
“Is that all he is to you?”
“Yeah, that’s all he is to me.” I smile weakly, watching his body relax slightly. “What I’m trying to say is I’m sorry, too.” I pause, wondering how to tell him how I feel without telling him how I feel. “I just didn’t want to get hurt again. I know it’s stupid, since we don’t really know each other, but you hurt me, and I didn’t want to end up hurt again.”
“Come here.” He opens his arms but doesn’t move to reach for me again, and I know this is when I need to go to him. This is me silently letting him know I forgive him—really forgive him.
Stepping into his embrace, I feel his arms wrap around me and his chin drop to the top of my head. Closing my eyes, I wonder how it’s possible to feel what I’m feeling right now. I barely know this man, but I feel more connected to him than my college boyfriend, who I dated for three years.
“Thank you for coming to me,” he says quietly, and tears burn the back of my throat as my arms tighten around his waist. I’m still scared to death, but there is now hope mixed in with the fear of what could happen.
“Thank you for being persistent,” I say, meaning that, and his arms tighten before he loosens his hold slightly.