Chapter Twenty-Eight
Braden
Livingin the present had its merits. Sarah and I never talked about the future because we’d agreed there wouldn’t be one, at least not for us as a couple. That took away any pressure I might have felt with a woman after a few dates—or in our case, a few months.
Except that everything had changed for me.
The more time that went by, the more I realized I wanted a future or at least the discussion of one. But I was afraid to bring it up. Why mess with a situation that was working?
We both knew where we stood. We’d been honest at the outset. We were enjoying our temporary time together.
Only an idiot would try to change things up.
I’m an idiot.
Sarah had finally gotten her car back from the repair shop, and her insurance company seemed to be forgiving enough—this one last time. Even though I told her I’d be happy to keep carpooling—I cited the negative environmental impact of taking two cars, playing to her scientific mind—she insisted that she didn’t want to burden me with driving her around anymore.
“I don’t mind,” I insisted. I liked driving her. But I respected her need for independence if she wanted it. Maybe it would help get it through my thick skull that we were not a couple, linked at the hip.
“Trust me, you’ll be much happier to see me when you don’t feel like my personal Uber.”
“I never felt like that. And I’m always happy to see you,” I said, spooning scrambled eggs onto two plates while Sarah browned a side of bacon on the stove.
She dropped the spatula in the pan, came over to me, and craned her neck to kiss me. “I’m always happy to see you too. But I think I need to embrace driving on my own a little bit, or I’ll never be able to pilot that beast back up to Berkeley when my stint at the lab is over.”
She went back to the bacon, flipping the strips in the pan, and pouring off the grease.
But I couldn’t move, suddenly stuck by a tightness in my chest that hadn’t been there a minute ago. Before Sarah referred to moving back to Berkeley.
It wasn’t like this was news to me. But hearing her talk about leaving without even a trace of regret brought back all the feelings I’d had two years earlier when Ellie told me she was moving out and moving on. No hesitation. No regrets.
Same as when my dad told us he’d bought a new house to live in with his new wife. Never looked back.
Everyone leaves.
The sooner I stopped fighting that, the healthier I’d be.
Sarah brought the bacon over and put two slices on each of our plates, smiling at me as she grabbed a piece and held it out for Bella, who’d been following the bacon pan with her eyes. “Good girl, Bella. Can you sit?” Bella obeyed. She held bacon in the highest esteem. Sarah backed away, holding her hand out. “Stay. Stay.” When she’d moved halfway across the kitchen, she looked at Bella. “Come and get it, girl.” Bella galloped at her and closed the distance between them in two giant steps.
“You’ve got her wrapped around your finger.” I smiled through the residual tightness in my chest. I hated this feeling and had no idea what would make it dissipate.
Ask Sarah to stay after her fellowship is over.
But I couldn’t do that. She had a life in Berkeley and a plan for how she wanted that life to go. It didn’t fit in with any of the rules we’d set up, and nothing Sarah had done or said in the past couple months had given me any indication she’d changed her mind about where she stood.
“You okay?” She put her plate down and rested her hands on my chest. Sarah looked into my eyes, and I wanted to sail away on the ocean waves I saw in hers.
“Yeah. Sure.” I pulled her closer, and her hands slid up my chest and over my shoulders. Her lips fit perfectly with mine, and as soon as I laid claim to them, the tightness in my chest disappeared.
I dragged my hands through her hair and held the back of her head, unwilling to give her any space to negotiate a different angle. I wanted her exactly where she was, or closer if it was humanly possible.
Our mouths fused, lips grinding, teeth nipping, and tongues thrashing as we moved from zero to a million in seconds.
Moving my hands down her back and under her gorgeous ass, I lifted her up, and she wrapped her legs around my waist. Without breaking the kiss, I spun her around and pushed her onto the counter, my erection hard and desperate, finding her center like a homing beacon.
“Braden...” Her voice was raspy and as desperate as I felt. I couldn’t get close enough. I couldn’t find enough ways to take her over. And I wouldn’t stop trying.
“Tell me.” I wanted her to say the words, tell me she felt as frantic for me as I did in this moment,” I growled. “What do you want.”