It Started with a Crush by Piper James

Chapter Fourteen

Chase

She was late.

Okay, it was fifteen seconds after six o’clock, but considering I’d been twenty minutes early, I felt like I’d been waiting forever. I’d ordered a couple of margaritas on the rocks, and I’d already sucked down half of mine as my knee bounced in nervous agitation. I was taking another long pull off the straw when I spotted her.

Setting down my drink, I stood, my lungs fighting for breath as my gaze traveled down the length of her. She looked like a goddess in bright blue, her long tanned legs bare beneath the short skirt of a wispy sundress.

I managed to regain control of my faculties by the time she reached the table, and I moved around to hold her chair for her. I pushed it in as she sat, fighting the urge to press my mouth against the bare skin of her shoulder. Her scent hypnotized me, hints of vanilla teasing my nostrils as she thanked me for my assistance.

I moved back to my chair, sliding into it as I said, “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” she murmured, her cheeks brightening. “You look particularly handsome, tonight, yourself.”

“Thanks,” I said, smoothing a hand down the front of my shirt.

I’d opted for jeans and a light green button-down. It was still hot out, so I’d rolled the sleeves up to my elbows and left the top two buttons undone. I’d even added a little gel to my mop of hair, sweeping it to the side in some semblance of order. Seeing Sage’s eyes roam over me, I was glad I’d put in the effort to look good for her.

“Before we order, I just wanted to tell you that Principal Walsh came by to see me today. Madisyn’s parents tried to threaten him with a lawsuit if he didn’t intervene and increase Daniel’s punishment. They’ve emailed him like twelve times,” she said, and my heart stuttered.

“Should I be worried?” I asked. “What did he say?”

She held up a palm, motioning with the other hand for me to take a breath with her.

“There’s nothing to worry about,” she said. “Mr. Walsh explained to them that every protocol was followed to the letter. Daniel has stayed away from Madisyn since that day, and there is no reason to pursue the matter further.”

“Did they accept that?” I asked, my nerves settling the tiniest bit.

“Of course, not,” she said, sighing. “But there’s nothing they can do. Principal Walsh brought it up at the schoolboard meeting this morning, and the board agrees with him. Mr. and Mrs. Turner are being ridiculous, and no one is taking this seriously. Don’t worry.”

With those last two words, she reached across the table to lay her hand on my arm. The comforting gesture made the rest of the tension drain out of me, and I gave Sage a grateful smile.

“Thank you,” I said.

“You don’t have to thank me,” she replied before pulling her hand away and picking up her menu. “Are you ready to order? I know exactly what I want.”

I knew what I wanted, too, and it wasn’t on the menu. It was sitting across from me in a sexy as fuck dress. But this was a date, not a hook up, so I looked down at my menu and attempted to read it.

“What are you getting?” I asked.

“The whole enchilada,” she said, and my eyes flew up to meet hers.

She pointed to a spot on her menu, and sure as shit, there was a dish named “The Whole Enchilada.” Sage chuckled as my shoulders relaxed. She took a sip of her margarita, eyeing me the whole time.

“Did you think I was going to order everything on the menu?”

“That’s usually what the whole enchilada means,” I said, grinning back at her. “I mean, it’s fine if you’re hungry enough and want to try everything. I’d totally be into watching you do that.”

“No,” she said, chuckling. “I think I’ll stick with the one dish, tonight. Maybe next time.”

“So, tell me everything,” I said after we’d ordered and the waiter brought us another round of margaritas.

“Everything about what?” she asked, taking a sip of her drink.

“About you,” I said, tilting my head to study her. “What’s your favorite movie?”

“That’s a trick question,” she said.

“What do you mean? It seems pretty straightforward to me.”

“Asking someone to pick their favorite movie is like asking them to pick their favorite song or book. It’s constantly changing as new ones come out and replace old ones.”

“Not if it’s a classic that can never be outdone,” I said.

“Such as?”

“The Karate Kid,” I said confidently.

“The original or the remake?” she shot back.

“Please,” I said, my expression twisting with disgust.

“Ah, so he’s a movie purist,” she mused. “And it’s a perfect example. While I’ll agree I loved that movie as a kid, I watch it now and can barely stomach—” She cut herself off, her eyes going wide as she stared at me in horror. “Please tell me you did not name your son after Daniel LaRusso.”

“What if I did?” I asked, barely containing my laughter at her expression.

“Chase.”

The laughter barked out of me, and I shook my head. “No. Daniel was my father’s middle name.”

“Oh, thank God,” she murmured. “I thought I was going to have to make up an excuse to end this date and block your number.”

I laughed again as she exaggerated a disgusted shiver. “What’s wrong with Daniel LaRusso?”

“How long do you have?” she asked, giving me a hard look. “He had no sense of self-preservation. He brought most of the ass-beatings he got on himself with his cocky attitude and lame pranks. He treated Ali like shit, then made jokes instead of properly apologizing to her and expected her to just giggle and forgive him—which she did. Ugh. And he kissed like he was thoroughly examining the back of her tonsils with his tongue.”

“Why don’t you tell me how you really feel?” I asked, laughing at the passion in her voice.

“Hey, you asked,” she said, taking a long sip of her drink.

“So, what’s a movie that you do like?” I asked.

“Comedy, rom-com, action, drama, horror, animated, or end-of-the-world?” she shot back.

“Wouldn’t end-of-the-world be categorized as action?” I asked.

“Nope. Deserves its own classification.”

“Okay,” I said. “End-of-the-world.”

“See, this proves my point. Had you asked me a few years ago, I would’ve said Independence Day, hands down. But, in recent years, The Day After Tomorrow has overtaken it on my list.”

“So you like older movies,” I mused.

“Not exclusively,” she said. “I love new movies, too. But you asked me for my favorite.”

Our food showed up, then, and there was a lull in the conversation as we dug into our meal. The beef tacos I ordered were amazing, and the chile relleno was nearly as good. And Sage’s enchilada looked delicious as hell. I was definitely coming back here.

As we ate, I told Sage about Daniel’s mother. She listened with rapt attention as I described our casual relationship and the shock of finding out she was pregnant. When I told Sage about how I’d offered to marry Angel, her expression softened.

“She said no, of course,” I explained. “It would’ve been a mistake and for all the wrong reasons. But we had a plan, and we were going to be strong, supportive co-parents.”

“You and your brothers have done a great job,” she said. “Daniel is a happy, well-adjusted kid.”

“Thanks,” I said. “We’ve tried.”

“Do you think you’ll want more kids someday?” she asked, and as soon as the words passed her lips, her face went pale. “Oh, shit. Don’t answer that. I didn’t mean anything by it, I swear.”

“It’s fine,” I said, chuckling. “And yeah, sure. I could see myself having more children someday. What about you?”

“Definitely,” she said, relaxing back into her chair.

Our discussion fell into a more comfortable pattern after that—foods we liked, music, books, and TV shows—which ended in an epic debate over which superhero franchise was better. I was an X-Men guy and Sage was ready to battle to the death over the superiority of the Avengers and the MCU.

I laughed until my cheeks hurt. Sage was animated and lively, a breath of fresh air in the sweltering Texas heat. She was…amazing, and I never wanted this night to end.