Page 49 of Under the Ink

“Not my…um, cup of tea.”

“Not mine, either.”

Unfortunately, Naomi didn’t know if he was being sarcastic or not. But her eyes scoured the shelves, hoping to maybe findsomethingelse, because she suspected Sage was ready to get out of there already.

Then he said, “You wanna look at something else?” When she shrugged, her eyes still stuck on the shelves, he added, “Or we could go to another place. I think there’s another liquor store a block or so away.”

Of course, there was…because they were in the perfect city. Naomi had lucked out with this job and she felt so much hope, so much gratitude in that moment. Turning her head, she said, “I think if we give it just one more minute…”

Sage was looking at her in a way he never had before. His gaze held some sort of meaning, but she couldn’t puzzle out what it was—only that his thoughts were likely aboutherat that moment. And it should have scared the shit out of her.

But it didn’t.

The only thing it did was take her breath away. Swallowing, she tilted her head to look at him from a slightly different angle. In the semi-dim light in the store, his face seemed almost ethereal, his eyes aglow, smoldering, and she felt like she could see his heart through those orbs.

She felt drawn to him like she’d never—well, that wasn’t true. But she felt pulled to him like she hadn’t been to a man in a long time.

Was that even healthy?

It didn’t matter. Even without a drink, she was going to allow herself to feel something—anything—THIS—for just one tiny moment. And if that meant their lips touched, so be it.

Her heart was thudding like Sage’s double bass drum in her chest as she inched closer.

But then some dumb asshole bumped into her as he made his way past, ruining the moment.

“Hey!”

“Oh, sorry,” the guy muttered.

Thesameguy who’d been lingering in front of the brandy moments earlier.Asshole.

“Hey!” she said, this time smiling at the man who’d been gazing in her eyes. “C’mon.”

As Sage followed, she questioned if that moment had even happened.

Of course, it hadn’t. It was all in her imagination. And it would be better if it stayed there.

But, damn…what a great thing to imagine.

PITTSBURGH, PENNSYLVANIA

JUNE 22

Sage checked himself out in the dressing room mirror. Usually, he didn’t give a rat’s ass what he looked like…because he knew he looked good enough. But lately he was trying to impress Naomi.

The question was why. She probably didn’t care. At least, that was the vibe he’d mostly gotten from her.

Except at the liquor store the other night. That felt different.

He’d been trying to lie to himself…telling himself that this was just a response to losing Jimmy. But he knew now for sure that it was more than that. Way more. He knew without a doubt when his sexual appetites completely changed.

A groupie or two every night used to keep him going throughout the entire tour. He’d begun this particular tour by abstaining out of respect for Jimmy. In its own way, that was kind of dumb, because Jimmy himself wouldn’t have asked for that. But he’d done it and that was that.

More recently, though, his reasons for not banging random groupies were due to a different person. It wasn’t that Naomi was close to what Jimmy had always called his “type”—kind of goth-y, dark hair, thin, tattooed. Not-so-nice girls wanting just a taste of a rock star.

Even though she was very much his type.

Jesus Christ on a tour bus. He was losing his fucking mind.

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