Page 46 of Off-Limits Daddy
“It’s Sage,” I whispered, already peeling myself back from him.
Ari’s lips were kiss-swollen, cheeks flushed. “Probably saw your truck.”
Shit.
Ari licked his lips, not helping anything. “Relax. You didn’t leave a hickey. I think.”
Jesus.
I groaned and tried to look less guilty, straightening my shirt just as Sage’s boots crunched closer.
“Don’t say a word,” I muttered.
“Mouth’s shut.” He pretended to zip his lips.
The side gate creaked.
“Yo,” Sage called, voice casual. “You two out here?”
Ari straightened, swiping a hand through his curls like that would fix anything. “Back here,” he called, tone easy, like we hadn’t been seconds away from losing ourselves all over again.
Sage stepped around the corner a moment later, hands in the pockets of his hoodie, grin stretching easily across his face. He gave Ari a quick side hug, then offered me a fist bump. “Didn’t think I’d catch you both. Everything good?”
“Just checking in,” I said, somehow keeping my voice steady.
Ari nudged his brother with a crooked grin. “He wanted to see some of my sketches. Joke’s on him—I don’t have much to show. Just unfinished stuff that’ll probably stay that way.”
Sage laughed, bumping Ari with his shoulder. “Sounds like progress to me.”
Ari rolled his eyes, but the smile tugging at his mouth wasn’t fake.
I kept mine in check, heart thudding like it hadn’t gotten the memo. I wasn’t sure if it was guilt or nerves—or the simple fact that I wanted more. But I knew this: Sage could never find out what was happening between his brother and me.
And I had no damn clue how long I could keep it that way.
I backed up a step, hands sliding into my pockets. “Just wanted to check in.”
Ari bumped his shoulder into mine, subtle but bold. “Shame.”
“Was about to head out,” I said, glancing at Sage first—because that felt like the right move. I turned to Ari then. Not for long, just enough to meet his eyes and give the smallest nod. Mychest tightened, but I kept my voice even. “See you around, kid.” What the fuck! I’ve never called him “kid,” not since he was like ten.
“Boy,” Ari corrected under his breath, just loud enough for me to hear.
Damn brat.
Sage clapped me lightly on the shoulder before I stepped away. “Appreciate you looking out for him.”
“Always,” I muttered, already halfway to the gate.
And it was the truth. Even if it was getting harder to decide whatlooking out for himactually meant.
Ari turned back toward the swing like he hadn’t just been tangled up in me seconds ago. Like he wasn’t pink and perfect and untouchable in that way that made me want to scream.
He called after me. “Text me when you get home.”
I didn’t turn around. Just lifted a hand in silent agreement and kept walking—every nerve sparking, every inch of me already missing him.
SIXTEEN
