CHAPTER 12

BIG AND SOFT

DAVID

“This is me.”

David fumbled with his key for a moment before successfully unlocking his apartment. Holding the door open, he gestured for Sage to walk inside first.

The jingle of Daisy’s collar greeted them, and before David could react, Sage had reached down and scooped up his dog, who greeted her with licks against her cheek.

“Hi, sweet pup,” Sage whispered softly, and David felt a wave of relief when he saw a hint of her crooked smirk. She still had the grease smudges on her face, and he hadn’t been able to bring himself to tell her when it seemed like she was already on the verge of losing it.

She was so goddamn lovely, even if she was so unrelentingly stubborn that he wanted to tear his hair out.

“Nice spot,” she said as she carried Daisy into his living room. She’d taken off her shoes by the door — Air Force 1’s, he noticed, impressed — leaving her in colorful knit socks. Her jeans were faded, a little bit baggy, but he could still see her thighs stretching the material.

He wet his lower lip with his tongue before he could stop himself.

David followed her, suddenly self conscious of how dark, how sterile his space was. Now that Sage was in his home, something about her made it all seem lifeless in comparison.

“Ah, thanks,” he replied, moving into the kitchen and stashing his bag of takeout on the counter. He grabbed a few discarded wrappers and empty water bottles that littered the counter, stuffing them into the trash can. “It’s not much,” he added. For some reason, he needed her to know that his apartment wasn’t his best attempt at creating a home.

He watched as she walked slowly along the far wall of the room where his concert posters hung. She was turned away from him, and her long braid hung down her spine, almost reaching her waist.

“You like music,” she said. It was a statement, not a question.

David shrugged, and then realized that she couldn’t see his non-verbal response. “Yeah,” he said, and his voice felt too loud for the enclosed space of his apartment.

Sage looked back over her shoulder, flashing him one of her crooked smiles. “You’ve got good taste,” she commented, before turning back to her perusal.

“When I was up in Chicago there was tons of live music,” David commented. “I got to see a lot of my favorites.” He scratched at his beard. “Of course, having Lollapalooza every year was incredible.”

“I wouldn’t take you for a music festival guy,” Sage said with a laugh, lowering a wriggling Daisy down to the couch before walking across the room toward him. She approached the high bar counter, bracing her elbows against it and looking up at him with those eyes that were just so damn pretty- green . He meant green .

“I mean, I was never riding the rail like a maniac,” David said, “but I was known to bust out a tank top and tie a bandana around my head.”

Sage tried to contain her laugh, but only lasted for a second before she completely cracked, eyes wide as huge, gasping laughs shook her upper body. David felt her laughter loosen something in his own chest, and next thing he knew his own laugh joined in with hers.

This is what it could have been like .

The thought showed up suddenly, unexpected, but once it was there it was all he could think about as their laughter faded, both of them lapsing into silence.

He could have brought this vibrant woman home, and they could have stood there, laughing together. He could have rounded the counter and drawn her into his arms, backing her up until his body pressed hers against the wall. He could have kissed her — would have kissed her — until they had to break apart to catch their breaths. But he wouldn’t have let her go yet, instead maintaining the connection between their bodies by resting his forehead against hers.

David blinked away the achingly vivid image, finding Sage watching him. Her lips were barely parted, and he knew without a doubt that her bottom lip would feel perfect pillowed between his teeth.

“Can I get you some water?” he asked, needing to bring some space back between them.

Sage reached into her bag, pulling out the same hard plastic bottle he’d noticed she always had with her. “Can I refill this?”

“Sure,” David said, and he moved aside so that she could get to the fridge door. Once she was done, David opened the door and grabbed a bottle for himself. As he unscrewed the lid, Sage let out a snort.

He raised his brows at her, unable to hide his amusement when her round cheeks flushed pink. “What,” he asked, taking another sip.

“You realized that just about everyone has decided that single use plastic water bottles are pretty bad for the planet, right?”

David paused, lowering the bottle from his lips. “I might have heard that,” he admitted.

“So why still buy them?” Sage looked at him with that defiant fire in her eyes, and damn if his body didn’t like that a whole hell of a lot.

“Honestly, they’re convenient,” he responded. “It’s a lame excuse, I know, but it’s easy.”

Sage shrugged at him. “This is pretty convenient, if you ask me,” she said, swinging her plastic bottle from one long finger. “Do you mind if we eat? I’m starving.”

“Yeah, of course,” David said, kicking himself for not immediately setting up their meal. He grabbed silverware from a drawer and tore off a few paper towels from the roll that sat on the counter. Picking up his salad, he looked between his small dining table that was covered in paperwork and the wide sectional. “Do you mind if we eat on the couch?”

“Not at all.” Sage followed him, choosing a spot on the far end, leaving about four feet between her and where David sat. It was a good distance, an appropriate distance, to have between them.

She tucked her feet up under herself as she started in on her pasta. She twirled the long noodles around her fork, before stabbing a piece of grilled chicken on the end. As she took her first bite, she hummed, obviously pleased with the food.

“Is it alright if I put on some game tape while we eat?”

Sage glanced over at him. “Not at all.”

It only took him a second to set up his laptop and get the game up on his large TV. He kept the remote next to him, and grabbed one of the legal pads from the cluttered table.

They watched in silence for a few minutes. It was their third game of the season, and the other team had come out at the beginning with full court pressure. Monty was good with the ball, but he was getting pushed to the sideline where he couldn’t complete the cross court pass. It was getting picked off almost every time.

After the fifth sloppy turnover, David couldn’t keep the frustrated “dammit” in.

“What about trying a two man front?”

He looked over at Sage, who was fully focused on the game playing out on the screen. “Who would you put up there with him?”

She frowned. “That’s tough, because you definitely have a bigger team. You’re much deeper in the center than you are outside.” She chewed another bite, clearly thinking deeply about her response. “Honestly, I would say Jordan.”

“Really?” Jordan was a great player, but he tended to hold onto the ball once it was in his hands. It was hard to imagine him giving up the ball, which was what they needed in this situation.

“He doesn’t like to give up the ball, but his confidence will help when it comes to getting through the pressure up top.”

She made a good point.

The game carried on. Occasionally David would pause the tape, scribbling notes for things to work on in practice.

“It just doesn’t make sense.” A play had just broken down when Jordan tried a no-look pass across the lane to Zephyr, their center. David looked over at Sage, who was shaking her head. She continued, pointing with her fork at the TV. “On half of the plays, Jordan is keeping the ball in his hands for too long and taking a bad shot, and then on this one, when he actually has the open lane, he tries to force the pass.”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” David sighed. He was still trying to figure out how to coach Jordan, who was the kind of kid who seemed to carry the weight of the whole team on his shoulders.

David knew something about that.

“Is he stat motivated? Win motivated?”

“It’s mixed,” David replied. “To be fair, I haven’t seen him after a win. But when the team loses and he plays well, he seems just as disappointed as the other guys. When he does poorly, it’s almost like he’s both angry with himself and afraid.” He shook his head. “Of what, I can’t figure out.”

Sage nodded just as her mouth opened wide into a yawn.

“Shit,” David jumped up off the couch. “You’re tired. Right. Sorry. Do you need anything? Give me a minute to change the sheets and you’ll be all set.” He took a few steps toward the bedroom before turning back around. “And I’ve got a spare toothbrush, and soaps and stuff.” Shit . “I…I also have tampons, if you need them.”

Goddamn his stupid mouth.

Sage grinned around another yawn. “I think I’m all set on the menstrual products, but thank you.” She wiped at her face as she unfolded from the couch and stood up. “Do you have a t-shirt I could borrow?”

You’re goddamn right I’ve got a t-shirt for you to sleep in, Lefty.

“Yep. Yeah. I’ll grab you one.” He practically ran to his bedroom, vaguely aware of her soft footsteps on the carpet as she followed him. Moving to his dresser, he opened a drawer and began sifting through his t-shirts. “Big and soft,” he muttered under his breath as his hands fingered at the folded cotton. That’s how women like their t-shirts. He stopped at one of his old Southeastern basketball shirts from when he’d been a player. It was worn to the point that it was almost threadbare, but damn if it wasn’t soft.

He turned, finding her leaning against his open bedroom door with a soft, sleepy expression on her face. He held out the shirt, and it took a monumental effort to not grab hold of her extended hand and tug her against his body.

God, he wanted her.

He stepped back, clearing his throat. “I’ll get the sheets sorted for you if you need to use the bathroom,” he said, pointing to the door across the hall. “Extra toothbrushes are in the top drawer.”

She nodded, that soft smile still on her pink lips as she turned away from him. He watched her, frozen in place, until the bathroom door clicked shut behind her.

He crossed to the bedroom door and shut it, needing a moment to himself.

As he changed the navy sheets on his bed and replaced them with a gray set, he thought about the woman currently in his apartment. He thought about how quiet the anxiety of the day had been since he’d found her on the side of the road. He thought about her comments about the team, about how engaged she’d been watching game tape with him. How alive and beautiful she was.

He straightened his duvet and tried to tidy as much as he could. Quickly, he changed into a t-shirt and flannel pajama pants, accepting that he was probably going to have to take a shower in the morning. Grabbing his glasses and the police procedural he was currently reading, he opened his bedroom door and walked back to the living room.

“The room is —”

He swallowed the rest of his sentence. Sage had curled up in one corner of the couch against the cushions. David’s t-shirt hung down, just barely covering her ass and the tops of thighs. Her eyes were shut and the soft sound of her breaths were barely audible from across the room.

David crept forward, careful to be as quiet as possible. While he knew she’d be more comfortable in his bed, he didn’t want to wake her up. He grabbed a fleece blanket that he kept folded on top of the couch and draped it over her, gently smoothing the soft fabric and tucking it under her feet. She shifted slightly in her sleep, murmuring something unintelligible before burrowing down deeper into the cushions.

God, he wanted to… hug her? Cuddle with her? Kiss her nose?

He shook his head, stepping away from her and quietly making his way back to his room.

As he lay there in the darkness, he couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to have Sage Fogerty in his bed, tucked against his body.

Would it be so wrong if she was?