Page 24 of Reckless Abandon
Chapter 15
Present Day
“You eat this stuff? Turkey bacon…really dude?”
I wave the packet of bacon in my hand, garnering over-the-shoulder looks from London and Sage who have their backs to me at the counter. They are slicing up fruit and making fresh orange juice in Sage’s state-of-the-art kitchen as I work at the commercial grade stove.
London pipes in. “I bought it for him. Sage needs to start eating healthier. Don’t you, honey?”
From the corner of my eye, I notice the look Sage gives her, sticking his tongue out as she bumps him in the hip with hers playfully.
It reminds me of how things used to be. The fun we had together. How we’d joke and laugh and tease each other unmercifully. We had good times, and this is just a small glimpse into our past life.
I see the meaningful look that passes between them and for a moment I feel like an interloper. And for the most part I am, having been out of the picture while they’ve been together over the years with stories to share and relive with one another. It creates the tiniest of cracks in my heart.
On the drive here yesterday, London shared a little about her history with Sage and all the ups and downs they’ve been through while I’ve been gone. London had returned to Nashville after graduating college and leaving New York, Sage’s star had just begun to rise, and he was touring for months at a time. Sometimes she’d get calls from him well into the middle of the night when Sage was lonely, drunk or high, barely discernable, pleading for her to come and join him on tour.
The few times she did, however, they’d get in a fight and she’d return home with a broken heart and a promise to herself that she’d never be that weak again.
And I was never there to ease her pain.
Yet London never gave up on him. Even now, she wants him to get back on the healthy track. To eat better. Drink less. Or better yet, get sober altogether.
Sage speaks to me over his shoulder. “It’s times like these that I really wish I had a dog to feed all this healthy foo-foo food to.”
London smacks him on the ass with a ladle. “You had a dog once if I recall and you were never at home for him. Poor Ralph had to go live with another family.”
“Well, it wasn’t my fault. I couldn’t take him with me on tour because he farted all the time! No one could be on the tour bus without wearing gas masks.”
I chuckle at the story as London giggles and adds to it.
“You blamed that poor dog for his flatulence, but we all know it was probably you or anyone of your bandmates. Ugh, that bus stunk to high heaven. It was dirty socks, beer, and pizza. That’s why we need to get you back to eating turkey and lean meats. Your gut needs it.”
Sage laughs with mirth as she jabs him in the stomach with a nail. He twists around, grabs her wrists and pulls her into his chest as she giggles with delight.
“You know I’m a sausage guy,” he remarks provocatively, with something dark flashing in his maple-brown eyes as he turns toward me and nods. “But maybe Cam will eat your bacon.”
The comment is so heavily-laden with innuendo that my body tenses with a mixture of arousal and anger, blood surging in my veins as I watch his hands roll over London’s ass, his fingers flexing and tightening and exploring the lush curves there.
My eyes remain fixed on them, unable to shift my gaze, as Sage places a hand on the back of London’s head and claims her mouth in a kiss. She squeaks loudly, her posture stiffening before relaxing against him, tilting her head to the side and throwing her arms around him. The ladle hangs loosely in her hand, dangling behind his back, swinging like a pendulum as they move together.
I’m caught between desperately wanting to watch this unfold and needing to get the hell out of Dodge. My heart hammers in my chest, my body yearning to take part. But then my jaw clenches, in the same manner that my fists tighten at my side, and I look away for a moment before returning my gaze to them.
I should use this opportunity to walk away and allow them privacy.
That’s what I should do, but I don’t.
Sage lifts his chin toward me, covered with a mass of dark stubble, a sated and lecherous grin fixed on his mouth. The same mouth I kissed earlier.
“You remember how good her bacon tastes, don’t you Cam?”
He slowly unravels from London’s arms, leisurely leaning against the edge of the countertop, fingers spread at the rounded granite ledge. The position makes it very clear how turned on he is from the kiss and PDA.
London feigns disgust, slapping his shoulder. “I am not one of the four food groups, Sage Hendricks.”
And then I remember that he slept with some random chick last night, yet here he stands so casually offering up memories of sex with London and kissing her like…like she’s just a piece of meat to him. My blood boils in my veins and I can’t contain my disdain for his actions.
“That’s enough, Sage. It’s not funny. You’re being a rude asshole and degrading London.”
