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They still had that spark, so he’d planned to take it slow, woo her, win her over, once he got settled. However, the situation had changed. Their circumstances may not be ideal, were somewhat out of his control, however, he needed to be flexible, adaptable.
His stint in the military had drummed into him that life is short. And he didn’t want to live his remaining years with regrets. He already had a back catalog of those, especially regarding Sage, and he refused to add to the pile of missed opportunities.
Initially he’d berated himself for not fully unpacking and settling into his return to civilian society. Now it had its positives. His large duffel bag sat at the foot of his bed, full of clean casual clothes and toiletries. That would do. He didn’t have to impress Sage, just keep her safe.
However, impressing her would be a really great side benefit. Cause yeah, he wanted the stunning woman. She epitomized beautiful, inside and out. A bit of a cliché, but the absolute, God’s honest truth.
From the moment she’d turned sixteen, every time she’d sashayed past, he’d wanted to haul her into his arms and kiss her until she moaned.
That craving had never stopped. For a while he’d deluded himself into believing he’d moved on but, the second he’d seen her, the overwhelming desire had come crashing back.
What was he thinking? He dropped his head into his hands and forced himself to face facts. Sage deserved the best, not some headcase, ex-military dude, plagued by night terrors and barely able to function. She needed stability, support, safety—someone who could thoroughly satisfy her needs.
And give her love. Yeah, she needed someone capable of it. He had lived in self-protection mode for so long, he’d become a master at numbing his emotions. Had he permanently lost the ability to feel?
Fuck, he hoped not. She’d come the closest to cracking open the protective wall he’d built around his heart. However, he’d retreated into a pattern of day-to-day survival, trying to cope without burdening anyone else with his issues.
Until seeing Sage yesterday, he’d declined help. He’d self sabotaged—regularly, consistently.
It’d become his default behavior—something familiar, something that relieved the tension, something that made him still feel like a somewhat-competent, strong-willed man.
In the short term.
Nothing to be proud of. He fell way short of fixing his compounding issues. Rationally it made sense, but knowing what he should do and implementing that had been two very different things.
Chances were he’d done irreparable damage to his relationship with Sage, preventing her from thinking him worthy of true friendship, let alone romantic interest. That didn’t stop his inner caveman from wanting her, though, doing everything in his power to claim the bewitching woman.
His phone chimed with Sage’s address. Not far. Given the early hour, he should get to her house in under fifteen minutes.
Alexander showered, grabbed his keys and duffel bag and headed out, ensuring he shored up his emotional battle armor…because he’d need it.
He threw his gear in the front passenger seat, buckled himself in and arrived at her house in twelve minutes. Alexander slung the duffel bag strap over his shoulder and walked to her front door, subtly scoping out the street, every sense on full alert.
All casual-like, he took his time, scanning the surroundings for any suspicious parked or idling cars and listened for any people-moving sounds—twigs snapping, dogs barking, the scuff of shoes.
Nothing seemed unusual…so far.
He reached the patio, still sweeping the area for anything odd, when shouts penetrated her front door.
“He’s coming here right now?” Snippy Sage. Alexander knew that side of her too well. Not that he’d helped by his piss-poor behavior in the past.
“Yeah. I wanted to make sure he arrived before either of us left.” Chase used his lawyerly, calm-down voice.
“For fuck’s sake!” Alexander could imagine her huffing and ramming her fingers through her long, lustrous, cinnamon hair—hair he wanted to wind around his hand and tug, hair he wanted to sink his fingers into, controlling the movement of her head while she sucked his cock.
In his dreams.
Alexander tried to compose himself, adjusted the crotch of his cargo pants and rang the doorbell. He stood tall and confident, a bit like a referee taking charge of a fight.
Inside went quiet.
Fast, heavy footfalls grew louder, and the door swung open.
Chase stood in the front foyer, his cheeks covered in stubble, his face creased with concern. His messy hair looked like he’d shoved his hands through it every few minutes, and he wore a tattered old T-shirt and track pants.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen his best friend so dressed-down, almost disheveled, and out of a pristine suit.
“Hey, Alex, thanks for doing this. Come on in.” He waved him inside, looking totally spent.
