Peggy crept into the hotel room, hoping and dreading—all at once—that she would find Belmont and Sage twined together, pledging their undying love. Instead, she found Sage sitting against the headboard of her bed…scrapbooking furiously. Like it was the final book that would ever be scrapped.
Sage had always been a type A overachiever, but there had been an added nervousness to her on the Iowa to Ohio leg of the trip. Like a cat sensing an earthquake. Her best friend might take pleasure in being compared to a feline and purr in response, but it probably wasn’t the best way to broach the subject of Sage’s uncharacteristic jumpiness.
“Hey,” Peggy murmured, praying she looked halfway human. On the short cab ride home, she’d vowed not to cry even one more time over Elliott—she’d done way too much of that and accomplished nothing—but the lack of tears didn’t mean Sage wouldn’t know something was wrong.
And wrong didn’t begin to cover how right it had felt having Elliott’s harsh words rasped into her ears back at the church. How annoying. She’d won tonight’s impromptu battle and should be celebrating, not replaying their angry kissing match. But it didn’t feel like a win at all, because every time she breathed, her nipples got hard remembering his mouth sucking them. His expression of rapture as he tongued them, pushing that big rod up between her thighs, turning her panties into a wet rag.
Oh sure, now she was laser focused on the victory.
She dropped down on the bed beside Sage, taking stock of the mounds of ribbon, magazine cutouts, and lace swaths piled around her petite best friend. With what appeared to be extreme concentration, Sage pressed a finger down onto a pink jewel, holding the decoration in place while chewing on her lip. It seemed like an hour passed before she released it, finally giving Peggy her full attention. Although just like the ribbons strewn across the bed, she could sense a strip of her friend’s concentration was elsewhere. Far from this room. “Hello.”
Peggy waved. “What have you got going on over there?”
“It’s a new wedding idea book.” She turned the page, smoothing her hand over the blank space. “I found an art supply store a short walk from here. Picked up some bridal magazines, too, and decided to have a party.”
Man, Peggy loved her best friend. She didn’t deserve someone as patient and together as Sage. Four weddings they’d planned together and Sage hadn’t judged her for calling off a single one of them. Not once. She’d simply made the appropriate phone calls and waited until Peggy was ready to talk. Only, Peggy had never been ready to talk about her inability to commit. Still wasn’t. Because vocalizing the kind of feelings she had for Elliott would drown her if she let them loose.
For this exact reason, Peggy had held off on asking Sage what had her so distracted lately. They had an unspoken don’t ask policy that had mostly benefitted Peggy up to this point. But what about Sage?
Back in Iowa, Sage had dropped the bombshell that she would be leaving the road trip after Cincinnati, but hadn’t confided why. And while Peggy had figured they had time to discuss it, the deadline was looming closer. Losing her best friend, even for a little while, made Peggy anxious. Not only because she loved Sage, but because of what her sudden absence might do to Belmont.
“Where have you been?” Sage asked, ducking her head and letting Peggy know she’d been scrutinizing a little too hard.
“Out.” Peggy unzipped her boots, letting them fall on the carpeted floor, one after the other. “Seemed like maybe you and Bel needed some space.”
As always, when the subject of Belmont was broached, Sage’s cheeks flamed, her fingers fidgeting with the bedspread. “Nothing happened, if that’s what you’re asking. Nothing ever does, beyond the h-holding. I wouldn’t…I mean, he’s your brother—”
“Sage.” It never failed to amaze her how Sage remained in denial where Belmont was concerned. If Sage asked him for the Pacific Ocean, he would spend his life looking for a big enough bottle to hold the damn thing. “Seriously, whatever is going on with you and Bel has my full blessing. My blessings have blessings.”
“Nothing is going on,” she whispered. “It can’t go on, Peggy. He relies too much on me. I rely too much on him. For comfort and…” A flash of hazel eyes in Peggy’s direction. “We’re codependent and I’ve seen where that leads. It’s not good.”
The silence buzzed in Peggy’s ears. Her friend rarely spoke about the past, but she’d just dropped a fat hint that something about it hadn’t been ideal. “You’ve seen where it leads how?”
“In my crystal ball,” Sage deadpanned, adding a wink. “It also says we have waffle fries from room service in our future.”
“Crafty evasion technique. Maybe you’re an ex-spy.” Peggy swallowed her disappointment and fell backward on the bed, arms flung out at her sides. “Are you hoping I’ll let you get away with that nonsense in exchange for not asking where I went?”
“I didn’t mean to evade, Peggy. Call it a bad habit.” A hush fell over the room. “Nothing is going on with Belmont that I understand anyway,” Sage said haltingly. “He comes at me so fast—so fast—and then he just disappears. It’s like he can only take me a little at a time. Or he can only take himself—how he is around me—in doses. But those doses are huge and addictive for us both. I don’t know how else to describe it.”
Swallowing the lump in her throat, Peggy sat up and reached for Sage’s knee, settling a hand there. “He’s kind of a mystery to all of us, but I can tell you right now, you’re the opposite of his problem.”
“I can’t be the solution,” Sage whispered, flicking her a solemn look. “I’m still leaving after Cincinnati, Peggy.” She rolled her lips inward. “It doesn’t have anything to do with Belmont…but I need to go alone. Are you going to fight me on it?”
“I’m going to hope you change your mind.”
Sage’s face broke into a sad smile. “I can’t.”
Peggy shoved her hands beneath her thighs to keep them from trembling. There had been too many changes in the last couple weeks. Two of her siblings gone, another one seeming to battle demons most days. Elliott back in her life, albeit temporarily. It was like standing in a batting cage, fastballs flying past her before she could swing. “Does Bel know yet?” Her friend’s silence gave Peggy her answer. “You never talk about your family. Does it involve them somehow?”
“Yes. But…let me explain another time, okay? You’re the first person I would talk to about anything, Peggy, but I’m just not ready. I’m sorry.” A beat of thick silence passed. “And you were wrong. I’m not going to let you get away with tonight. I want to know where you were.”
The comfort zone Sage usually allowed her popped. “I went to church.”
Sage tilted her head. Come on.
Elliott’s deep voice filtered through her thoughts. Our father, who art in heaven…
I’m a reminder of guilt. Something to pray about. Was the very idea of her in church laughable even to her best friend?
“Okay, I get it.” The words came out louder than intended, so she took a calming breath. “I get it. I’m the antithesis of holy. I’m going to spark the end of days. Approach with caution.”
Sage’s brow knit together. “What are you talking about?” She scooted closer to the bed’s edge, knocking a few pieces of lace onto the floor. “Peggy, the closer we got to Cincinnati, the quieter you became. Just talk to me.” She smiled. “After four almost-weddings together, your skeletons were never in the closet.”
“You don’t know why I keep canceling the weddings,” Peggy said.
“No. You’re right. I don’t know that.” Sage’s head tipped forward, sending forth a curtain of light brown hair. “Everyone has that one thing, you know? That one sore spot. When someone prods it, we get the urge to…banish them and run for cover. My sore spot is my family.” She pushed back her hair. “I won’t do that to you, no matter how many times you ask, even if I can’t talk about it yet.”
Peggy frowned over at her friend. “If you prod my sore spot, I’m not going to banish you, either, Sage, that’s—”
She started to say ridiculous, then realized…the assumption wasn’t ridiculous. At all. Upon returning to San Diego after college, she’d made friends easily. Coworkers from the stores where she’d worked; even some of her customers had become hangout buddies. Where were those friends now? Phased out slowly because they’d been too curious about her serial relationships that ended before they had a chance. Avoided because the flighty answers she’d given to their serious questions left them feeling slighted or unsatisfied. Or not wanting their suddenly single friend around their boyfriends.
Peggy cleared her throat. “Yeah, okay, I can see why you felt like that.” She wet her dry lips. “I could never do that with you, Sage. Ask me and I’ll prove it.”
“Who is he?”
Sage’s astuteness didn’t surprise Peggy. Not in the least. But having the almighty “he” acknowledged meant she was finally talking about Elliott out loud, and after three years of silence on the subject, she had to brace herself before sharing. She stood up and circled the room, giving a hollow laugh when she saw Sage had paused an episode of Golden Girls at a scene where Blanche—Peggy’s favorite—was entering the room. Definitely not a coincidence. Sage was so thoughtful she wouldn’t let Peggy miss a Blanche scene. Peggy hadn’t rewarded that loyalty the way she should have.
“His name is Elliott Brooks. He’s the—”
“The Kingmaker?”
Peggy turned with an eyebrow cocked. “Um. Yes?”
Sage squared her shoulders and sighed, obviously regretting that unexpected outburst. “I was down in the lobby earlier and they have this whole section in the gift shop dedicated to memorabilia. They were selling these little crowns that say, ‘Elliott Brooks Made Me a King.’”
“Yeah.” Pride bombarded Peggy before she could throw up a barrier. “He’s kind of a big deal around here.”
Sage watched Peggy in silence a moment. “Well, I don’t care if he crowned King Arthur, he’s dead to me if he’s the one who hurt my best friend.”
The corner of Peggy’s mouth twitched once, before the whole thing moved into a smile. “You’re a little bloodthirsty, aren’t you, Sage?” She trailed her fingers across the clothes bureau. “It’s always the quiet ones.”
Sage straightened her back, crossing her legs in a way that made her look prim and proper, belying her outburst. “What are we doing here, Peggy? If he hurt you bad enough that you would cancel four weddings…” Sage visibly reeled herself in. “Maybe he doesn’t deserve another minute of your time.”
“Yeah, well. Staying away is easier said than done.” She massaged her throat. “Every year, I get these e-mails for alumni weekend and I always turn them down. But…here I am.” She blew out a breath. “I need to get him out of my head, because time isn’t helping. Time has actually made it worse.”
“Oh God, Peggy.” Sage shook her head. “I’m sorry.”
Hating the sadness radiating from her best friend, Peggy forced another bright smile onto her face. “He’s the one you should feel sorry for. If all goes according to my evil plans, the next wedding you organize for me and some unknown prince is going to stick. I’ll walk down the aisle with my head up, knowing he doesn’t have the power to break my heart anymore. I just need to take the power back. To restore balance.” When Sage only continued to watch her without speaking, sympathy on her pretty face, Peggy took a chance. “We’re your family, too, Sage Alexander. Belmont and I. Whatever it is you’re leaving us for, we can help you face it. Don’t shut us out.”
If Peggy had blinked, she would have missed the haunted quality that slipped into Sage’s expression then trickled back out. “How about the episode where the Golden Girls head to Hollywood for the game show?”
Peggy swallowed the lump of disappointment and reminded herself to be patient. God knew Sage had been like Mother Teresa with her. “Fine,” Peggy murmured. “But it’s my turn to be Sophia.”
* * *
Shit. It was like she’d jumped into Marty McFly’s DeLorean and ended up back in college. There she sat, crossed legged on the cheer squad changing room floor, thoughts of Elliott crowding out everything else. Senior year déjà vu. Around her, faces from her past chatted away happily, as if they’d just been waiting for the chance to reunite. As if they lived for it. What was she living for?
She wasn’t so self-absorbed to think she was the first one in that room to have her heart broken. She could probably swing a cat and hit at least five ladies who’d been hurt by a man.
Until Rita suggested the impromptu road trip on the morning after she’d burned down their mother’s restaurant, Peggy hadn’t realized how inevitable this trip to Cincinnati had always been. Deep down, she’d been harboring the need to return. Pretending to be over Elliott, then getting cold feet before pledging her love to another man, was a circular pattern she intended to stop. No more breaking commitments on the off chance Elliott had merely been scared to get serious about someone else so soon after his wife’s accident. And that he would come around. To a college senior, their year-long relationship had seemed like a millennium, but in truth, it was a short span of time for a man to get past something so horrific, right?
Now she knew. Time had nothing to do with him sending her packing. He genuinely didn’t have room—or want—for her in his life. Yet her body had woken up and responded to his insensitive words last night, her blood blazing like it hadn’t—not once—since going back to California. It made her wonder. Was she really back in Ohio to make Elliott’s life hell? Or her own?
Discover your inner masochist in beautiful Cincinnati.
That should really be on a postcard.
Jacinda, the woman who’d been her co-captain senior year and now worked as a nurse practitioner, hopped up onto one of the wooden benches and clapped her hands twice. “Okay, ladies. I have some news.” She paused for effect, playing with the charms on her bracelet. “Normally we do an alumni cheer with the current squad at halftime of the Saturday game. And we can still pull together that performance. But…” Another smiling pause. “Some of us girls have been talking and thought, why not buck tradition and put together a last-minute fund-raiser?”
A fluttering of murmurs went around the room.
“There’s a banquet on Saturday night after the game, which signals the close of alumni week, but those of us who’ve attended the last three years know that shit is boring.” Everyone, including Peggy, laughed. “Now we all know the football team is royalty around here, so if we can convince them to participate, we have a much higher chance for success. Hell, the cheerleaders are out in all manner of weather rooting them on, so if they want to stay on our good side, they’ll help us raise a little cash to keep our digs as cushy as theirs.”
“Do you have a specific idea?” someone asked. “Like a bachelor auction?”
Despite the hoots and whistling that ensued, Jacinda shook her head. “Believe me, that was our first idea, too, but it’ll never happen. Coach Brooks likes his players to maintain a professional image at all times.”
Hearing his name sent a series of little bomb blasts traveling up Peggy’s spine, ending at her scalp. The blasts grew louder when the woman to her left said, “Is it just me or does Brooks get more delicious with age?”
“It’s not just you,” approximately eight people shouted back.
“All that tightly leashed control,” another one said, shivering. “Not to mention those tight buns, am I right? You could bounce a silver dollar off—”
“What about a compromise?” Peggy interrupted too loudly, pushing to her feet. Every head in the room swiveled in her direction as she attempted to rein in the green-eyed monster whose teeth had sunk into her jugular. “Maybe a fashion show…where the players model signed jerseys and the audience bids on them. The jerseys, I mean.” When heads began to bob and Jacinda gave her a thumbs-up to continue, Peggy climbed onto her own bench, striking an end of the runway pose that kicked up more laughter. “And aw, shucks. Once the jersey has been sold, the players will have no choice but to take the garment off.” She gave an innocent shrug. “We might accidentally, innocently forget to mention that to the coach. Whoops?”
Her question was greeted by a round of applause and Peggy gave a sweeping bow, ending with a flourish when Jacinda held up a hand. “Okay, this is all amazing in theory, but the real miracle will be getting Coach Brooks to agree.”
A rush of excitement twined through Peggy’s veins, anticipation blooming in her tummy. “Not only will he agree, but he’ll make a speech at the alumni banquet.”
And yeah, that was greeted with skepticism, mainly from her old cocaptain across the room. “Brooks doesn’t do speeches.”
Peggy winked at her audience. “Leave him to me.”