Page 74 of Our Sadie

Whatever’s been going on with Zach seems to have abated or at least diminished. His features are honed in concentration rather than pinched as he and Jerome simultaneously work on me with the supplies Dom brought out.

They’re being so solicitous, and it occurs to me that mere weeks ago, I wouldn’t have tolerated this. I would’ve rebelled at any hint of them doubting my strength or agency. Yet, they’ve proven that they do believe I’m strong and capable. So, what they’re doing now doesn’t aggravate me in the slightest.

Not at all.

I know this is about them taking care of me, of these men showing me affection. Nothing else.

I’m a bit stunned by the turnaround as I consider it. Still, self-reflection isn’t why we’re here. I think about what Win would purchase for her parents if she were in my place. I’ve never been good at gift-giving, but my bestie has a knack for it. I glimpse up at the display windows and see what I missed upon entry. A gift basket made up of local foods and beverages.

Raw honey. Maple syrup. Chocolate mice made by local chocolatier L.A. Burdick featuring white, milk, and dark chocolate. A bottle of mead wine. And a wheel of hard cheese.

“Zach, do you think your parents would like that gift basket?” I almost offer to spring for it, but at the last minute, shut up.

It was something my parents once argued over. The tug-o-war between my mother wanting to appear one hundred percent self-sufficient, and my father clamoring to spoil her. She wouldn’t allow him to give her anything she hadn’t specifically asked for. By name and description. Looking back, his natural inclination must’ve been to surprise her—like he loved to surprise me—and without that, whatever drew them together in the first place withered on the vine.

I remember wondering why they stayed married when any love they might’ve ever had for one another had morphed into irritation and resentment.

I recognize my mom’s behavior now as pride run amok. There wasn’t anything amiss with her need to be independent until it stretched beyond that and became all about her image and ego. If Mom were here right now, she’d tell—not ask but tell—Zach that she would pay for it. Hell, she’d even insist on having it overnighted to their mailing address.

Whether Zach as their son wanted that or not.

It would be emasculating. Especially if such instances happened on several notable occasions. So, I refuse to make the same mistake. Instead, Zach squints at the window in question, his face lighting up.

“Yeah, that might work. Be right back.”

Moments later, when we’re all clamoring back aboard the Sequoia, I purposely climb in the backseat with Zach letting Dom take the shotgun position by Jerome. The shop fortunately offered the option to ship the gift basket directly to Zach’s parents’ place in Boston with expedited delivery.

Zach should be happy right? Yet he’s quieter than usual and not necessarily more peaceful.

I reach over to lace my fingers with his, glad I chose to sit on the driver’s side so that my right hand is next to him. He quirks up one corner of his lips, but it doesn’t last long. Sadness hangs over him like a thundercloud.

“Mom’s not doing well with her MS,” he tells me. “She keeps having these relapses.”

I know little about multiple sclerosis. Only enough to know that it affects your balance and isn’t currently curable. That it can kill you.

“Oh, Zach...” But before I can express my sympathies, he goes on.

“She’s been my inspiration as a dancer for as long as I can remember, yet now she has trouble crossing a single room. It’s just... It’s hard to watch. It’s hard to hope for the future when her health is declining so rapidly. And financially, it’s wrecked them. They’re college professors, or Dad still is, anyway. But all the savings they’ve been tucking away is gone.”

I bring his hand up so I can kiss our linked fingers, trying to grant him some sense of solace. I may have grown up privileged when it comes to money but witnessing the effect it’s had on my three guys makes me want to set up funding accounts for each of them in the millions. If I could do it without insulting them, I would. Even if we end up parting ways.

Not that I can imagine doing that right now. Not with any of them.

Somehow, they’ve each grown to be a part of me. Parts I have zero inclination to do without. My plans with them have gone utterly off the rails, but I don’t care. I like our group dynamic. And ever since that night when we all started sleeping together something elemental changed between us.

Not that I can give my attention to such a massive concept right now. Zach needs comfort, and with all these limo-dark tinted windows, I can give it to him without anyone but Dom or Jerome spying on us.

Removing my seatbelt, I lean across the spacious backseat and press my lips to his cheek. Then, I kiss my way down his neck to his Adam’s apple. He embraces me, whispering into my ear.

“I’m all right. But thank you.”

He thinks this is all I’m offering, but I’m not. I want that smile he tends to wear back on his face, so I unbutton his pants and unzip his zipper.

“Sadie? Wait... Do you seriously want to do this right—Ohhh...”

My palm fisted around his cock hushes him right up, especially when it takes all of a second for him to harden in my grasp. That’s when I take him in my mouth, and any questions or objections melt like snow into a heated outdoor pool.

Nothing like a bit of roadhead to buoy a guy’s perspective.

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