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Cal’s cheeks actually flushed. Because of her!
He walked around to the passenger side, muttering something under his breath. Sage could’ve sworn she heard “princess” and “going to kill me.”
Once they were both buckled in, she gave him her most innocent smile. “Okay, Daddy… where are we heading?”
He took a moment to gather himself, then smiled — slow and warm. “What do you mean? We’re going home.”
She blinked, confused. “Home? What about our date?”
He leaned over, voice dropping to that low rumble that melted her. “Trust me, princess. Let’s go home.”
CAL
The drive was everything Cal was hoping it would be. Sage kept running her hands reverently over the smooth leather seats and custom wood paneling, her delighted exclamations hitting him like little victories straight to the soul.
“There’s a sunroof! A fucking sunroof! Look, look!”
The sunroof slid open, then closed, then opened again. Sage was practically bouncing in her seat.
“Baby girl? The road?”
The Jeep drifted gently back into the proper lane. Cal was grateful the mountain road was empty tonight.
“This is so cool! I can’t believe it… What does this button do?”
“That’s the eject button,” Cal said, face completely expressionless. “In case you need to get out of the car quickly.”
Sage’s finger froze over the center console. “Are you fucking ser—”
“It’s the seat heater.”
She stared at him for a beat, then burst out laughing and slapped his arm. He smiled as she pressed the button. A few seconds later she let out a low, throaty moan that made Cal shift uncomfortably in his seat.
“Ohhhh… oh fuckkk… it has a massager?”
“Yeah,” he said with that half-smile of his. “You might wanna hold off on that while you’re driving, princess.”
Sage laughed again, her lip ring catching the moonlight.
My God, she’s beautiful.
“Wanna listen to some music?” he asked.
“You mean more Lynyrd Skynyrd?” she teased. “You and Felicity have great taste.”
Cal just smiled, reached down, and hit play on the stereo. The screen lit up: Princess Playlist.
Sage looked at him, eyes soft. “You made me a playlist? Aww, thank—”
The first heavy riffs filled the car.
In This Moment. Sick Like Me.
Sage went quiet. She glanced at him sharply, then back at the road, listening as Maria Brink’s voice poured through the speakers — all control and hunger and that dark little question underneath it.
After a long while, she slowly pulled the Jeep off onto the shoulder and put it in park. The music kept playing. She stared straight ahead, breathing a little faster.
Cal watched her, suddenly a touch embarrassed. “I know your music is a little… different than mine, but—”
