Page 17 of Off-Limits Daddy
But tonight—yeah, this wasn’t a beer-and-football catch-up.
I pushed the door open the rest of the way, stepping out into the warm dark. “Come in.”
“Thanks.”
He followed me inside. I poured two coffees from the pot on the counter and slid one across the table. Sage caught it, settling into the beat-up chair across from me.
There wasn’t any small talk. Just steady, comfortable silence born from decades of friendship between us.
“You heard about what happened at Cael’s?” I finally said.
“News moves fast around here.” His tone was dry, but not accusing. “Didn’t take long for someone to text me.”
I sat, stretching my legs out under the table. “Nobody got hurt.”
“I know. Thanks to you.”
“It was a grease fire, Sage. Nothing serious.”
“Yeah, well. Appreciate you looking out for him.”
That landed somewhere uncomfortable. Like I was doing something noble, when the truth was, I couldn’tnotlook out for Ari if I tried.
I shifted in my seat. “He’s grown now.”
“I know that. He’s still... figuring things out. It doesn’t look like he feels settled, but who does, right?” Sage shook his head, eyes tired but not hard. “I worry about him not seeing himself the way we do. Has always had this thing like he’s gotta prove he belongs.”
Something sharp worked behind my ribs. I’d seen that too—that restless way Ari smiled too quick, laughed too loud, like if he stopped moving, somebody might notice the cracks underneath.
“He’s got nothing to prove,” I said quietly.
Sage gave me a look. “Try telling him that.”
A pause stretched long between us, filled only by the sound of Trent cursing softly somewhere in the bay.
Sage took a sip of his coffee, then leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “He always looked up to you, Reid. You know that.”
“I know.”
“Not just ’cause you used to hang around the house, fixing bikes and sneaking him candy behind Mom’s back. You made him feel like he mattered. Like he was more than just my annoying little brother.” He glanced at me sideways. “I don’t know what’s going on in his head these days, but I know one thing—he’d follow you damn near anywhere.”
Heat crawled up my neck, uncomfortable and intense. “He’s not a kid.”
“I didn’t say he was. I’m not here to start anything. I’m just here because...” Sage trailed off, blowing out a breath. “I just don’t want to see him get hurt. Not by someone he?—”
He caught himself, eyes narrowing slightly like he’d stepped too close to something dangerous.
I raised a brow. “Someone he what?”
He shook his head. “Forget it. Probably nothing.”
But it wasn’t nothing. Not for me.
That quiet worry in his voice twisted something low in my gut, guilt and wanting braided so tight I couldn’t tell one from the other anymore.
Sage drummed his fingers lightly on the table, gaze distant. “You were always good at that, you know. Looking out for people.”
I tried for a smile, but it felt uneven. “I didn’t know I had a reputation.”
