17
Brandon
“Whendidyoucallroom service?” asked Sage.
I almost wished I hadn’t placed the order at all, because I needed her mouth more than I needed food. In the bathroom, the connection between us had crackled like a high-voltage power line. Whenever we were near, it was as if there were an invisible tether dragging me toward her. And when we were close enough to kiss, it was all I could think about. If the utility company could harness the electricity we generated, it would light up the entire city.
But Sage was hungry, and taking care of her needs overrode my own. Besides, she was still a little flighty. After ouralmostmake-out session, she seemed intent on pretending it’d never happened. Trying to figure this complicated woman out had my head spinning in circles.
I carried the large tray of silver-domed dishes to the small table near the window. “Technically, I didn’t call. I sent the request through to the kitchen’s electronic ordering system. We skipped the line.”
She grinned. “It’s like hanging out with a rock star.”
Every one of Sage’s smiles felt like a gift. She didn’t do it often enough, and I wanted to change that. She deserved happiness and so much more after everything she’d been through.
“Then that treatment shall continue.” I uncovered the two plates. “Cheeseburger or a deluxe club sandwich?” Both looked great.
“I can’t decide. Why don’t we go halves on each?”
“Good decision.”
I cut the burger in half and passed over a portion to Sage. She did the same with the club sandwich. We tucked into the food, me perched on the edge of the bed while Sage sat cross-legged upon the duvet.
Despite the rough night we’d had, Sage looked as tempting as ever. Her luscious curves drew my wandering eyes. The tiny black cami she wore revealed the creamy skin of her cleavage, and her shorts—those goddamn scraps of black denim—covered an ass I wanted to sink my teeth into.
Sage moaned and closed her lids while she chewed. “This is delicious. Why am I so hungry?”
I cleared my throat and popped a fry in my mouth. “It’s the adrenaline you burned earlier. You’re going to collapse into a coma right after you eat.”
“Not likely. I’m wired.” She took another bite.
We ate our food in comfortable silence. I hadn’t put a shirt on after Sage had stitched me up, mostly because I liked the way her eyes dipped to my chest often and the blush on her cheeks that followed.
When she finished eating, Sage dusted crumbs from her hands, then folded her arms. “Right. I think I’ve been patient long enough.”
“You have?” I took a sip from a bottle of water.
“Yep. It’s confession time.”
“Okay,” I said slowly. There were a lot of secrets between us, and not just my own. Would Sage come clean about her past, too?
“You single-handedly orchestrated a plan to extract three people from a Mafia stronghold. You were intimately familiar with that badass rifle at the club. You can hack just about anything, and yourcolleague“—she made air quotation marks—“is a hitman. Plus, this”—she gestured to my bare torso—“isnotthe body of a computer geek.”
I shrugged. “Nerds can lift weights.”
“They can, and they still don’t look or act like you, so stop deflecting.”
That was a lot to hit me with. I supposed there was no delaying this, and Sage was far too inquisitive to let it lie. I wasn’t sure she’d like all my answers, but she was right. It was time to be honest.
I wiped my mouth with a napkin and tossed it onto a plate. “I can’t tell you all of it.”
“Then tell me what you can.”
I rested my forearms on my knees. “I’m an army vet.”
She didn’t seem shocked by that. “Aha. What were you? Special Forces?”
Of course she wanted specifics. “Worked my way into Delta as the team’s intelligence specialist.”