Page 27

SAGE

Sage had her backpack slung over one shoulder and her duffel in hand as she approached David’s Bronco idling in front of her apartment.

“Hi.” David flashed his wide smile at her through the open passenger window.

Dark sunglasses rested on the ridge of his nose, and a black baseball cap was pulled down over his head. He wore a white t-shirt that stretched over the muscles of his chest.

This man was hers . Hers to touch and kiss and climb like a tree.

It was all a bit hard to believe, even as she tossed her stuff in the back seat and climbed into the front. Even as she leaned across the center console and pressed her lips to his. Even as their tongues tangled, caressing with growing urgency until she felt the warmth of pleasure ignite in her lower abdomen.

Pulling away, David reached out a big hand and squeezed her thigh. “Ready?”

Sage nodded, looking into the back where Daisy was curled up on a blanket, fast asleep.

The drive to Lake Murray would take about two and a half hours. The rest of the group had left earlier that Friday, but Sage had had an afternoon meeting with her advisor about a project for his class. David had been entirely unbothered when she’d told him about the delay to their departure, claiming it gave him extra time to “shop for road snacks.”

Maggie had immediately agreed to come when Sage asked, claiming that she was due a holiday from the bar and that she was “really good at lakes,” whatever that meant. She would be driving her own car up the next morning.

“I made you a tea,” he said, gesturing to the to-go mug in the cup holder. “I also brought chips, sliced apples, three different kinds of chocolate, those weird mustard pretzels you like, and cheese sticks.”

This ridiculous, beautiful man .

“That should probably cover us,” she teased, slipping out of her flip flops and resting her feet on the dash in front of her.

David swatted at her leg. “Feet down.”

“Why?”

He huffed. “If we’re in an accident, you’re going to crush both of your legs, Lefty.”

“Fine. But I get to DJ.” She grabbed her phone and plugged it into the audio cable that went in through the tape deck.

Soon, she was singing along with Kacey Musgraves, watching as the blur of suburbia faded into big swaths of green only interrupted by the seemingly endless waterways that wound through that part of the state.

She knew that she wasn’t the best singer, but she couldn’t find it in herself to give a fuck, not when she caught David’s occasional glances, and the way a fond smile curved his lips every time he looked at her. He looked at her in a way that made her feel inexplicably good and whole, like his affection wasn’t conditional on her being a certain way, looking a certain way, or behaving a certain way.

They made one stop for gas and a bathroom break, and it was dusk when they pulled off of the two-lane highway, following a winding road through the dense forest that surrounded Lake Murray.

Long driveways curved away from the road, leading to houses that were hidden by the trees. They drove for a few minutes before they reached a quiet stretch of road with a cul-de-sac up ahead. David slowed and turned down a driveway that was marked with a stone mailbox.

The narrow drive was lined with flowering pink camellias and neatly trimmed oaks, and took two or three turns before it opened up to a large, brightly lit home. Two cars were already parked in the driveway, and Daivd pulled up behind them, cutting the engine.

He glanced over at Sage. “Ready?”

She reached into the back seat and scooped up a wriggling Daisy. “Let’s do it.”

The instant the large wooden front door opened, Sage was swept through a series of loud and very overwhelming introductions. She barely had time to put Daisy down on the floor before she was pulled into the social frenzy.

“Sup, team manager,” Chuck shouted from where he sprawled on one of the long leather sectionals.

“I’m Rebecca,” called out a stunningly beautiful woman wearing a white sundress. Thick braids were coiled up in a bun on the top of her head, and her lips were painted a fuchsia pink that glowed against her warm mahogany skin. Her smile was wide and warm. “We’ve heard so much about you.”

She pulled on the arm of a well-dressed man who was about as tall as David. Sage vaguely recognized him from the first night she met David at the bar — shaved head, kind eyes, and a small gap between his two front teeth. “This is my husband, Darius.”

“And I think I owe you an apology for cock blocking you,” another man said, awkwardly waving from where he sat next to Chuck.

Chuck reached over and punched him in the shoulder. “Seriously, Tommy?”

“What?” Tommy had mousy brown hair and an unremarkable haircut, and his t-shirt and board shorts showed off the kind of muscles that came from hours spent in the gym trying to look a certain way.

“You’re an idiot,” Chuck added, before turning back to Sage. “This is Tommy. If he hadn’t been on the team with Hughes and Darius we would’ve dropped him years ago.”

Sage hadn’t caught Tommy’s response, because another man was introducing himself.

“Keaton Redd,” he said as he offered his hand, his Southern accent more pronounced than the others. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you,” Sage replied, appreciatively looking the man up and down.

Where David was dark-eyed, dark-haired and always a bit disheveled, Keaton was green-eyed, blonde, and meticulously put together. His skin was a warm beige, like he spent just enough time in the sun to seem like an outdoorsman. His hair was long enough that it curled down below his ears, and he wore it combed back like an old-money heir. Honestly, based on how he dressed — some sort of linen shorts and a chambray button up with the sleeves rolled to his elbows — he probably did come from wealth.

Sage felt a warm hand wrap around her waist. One tug and she stumbled back, stilling when she felt David’s firm body against her.

She craned her neck to look back at him, unable to keep the grin from her face when she saw him glowering at her. “What?” she teased, keeping her voice quiet, just for him. “You’ve been hiding your hot friends from me.”

David’s scowl deepened. “So what if I have?” He glared over her head, like he was considering challenging Keaton to some ridiculous contest of strength in order to prove his own worth.

Sage snorted a laugh. “You are a fucking silly, beautiful man,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw. The stubble there tickled her lips, and she felt a shiver of wanting travel down her spine.

David made a low growling sound that only made Sage laugh harder.

“I see it,” Sage heard Keaton comment from behind them.

“I told you they were adorable,” Chuck’s voice chimed in.

“Alright, leave them alone.” Sage turned around to see Rebecca walking toward them, shaking her head at the rest of the group. “David, we put you guys in the corner room with the lake view.”

David nodded, obviously understanding her.

“Why don’t you take the bags up and I’ll take Sage out back.” Rebecca shot Sage a conspiratorial smile. “Ever since the steak disaster of 2011, I’ve been the designated grill mistress.”

“It’s not my fault I saw a Curlew sandpiper!” Darius protested from where he had started chopping a head of cauliflower in the kitchen. “They’re incredibly rare.”

“ Thought you saw,” David added, his hand squeezing her hip before he withdrew and reached for their bags, which they’d placed on the bench by the front door. He smiled fondly at her, watching her with a kind of intensity that made Sage’s skin heat. “Go,” he encouraged, nodding toward Rebecca. “And don’t believe anything she tells you about me.”

Sage grinned. “Of course not,” she said, turning and following Rebecca out a back door.

Even in the growing darkness, Sage could see what a beautiful place they were in. The wide wooden deck was lit with string lights, and a long, driftwood table surrounded by chairs stretched across one side. An outdoor seating area was tucked in the other corner, oriented to look out at the view of the lake. Close to the door there was a large grill, trailing gray smoke up into the darkness.

Sage walked to look out over the railing.

The house was built on a hill; while they’d walking in the front door on the ground floor, the back balcony was raised above ground. Below, Sage could see a flagstone patio with a firepit encircled by Adirondack chairs. From there, she could barely make out a stone path that led down to a long dock that stretched out into quiet, black water.

“This place is incredible,” she said.

Rebecca came up beside her, crossing her arms and leaning on the railing. “Isn’t it? Keaton’s family knows the homeowner. They started coming here for spring break when they were seniors, and they’ve been coming every year since.”

“When did you join?”

Rebecca laughed. The sound was rich, and matched her voice, which was low and musical. “Darius and I met eight years ago, but he waited a year before he invited me along. Do you want a drink?”

“Sure. What do you have?”

“Everything, honestly,” Rebecca said with that low laugh again. “Beer, wine, a pitcher of margaritas in the fridge. Someone brought a handle of Southern Comfort, and of course Keaton brought some sort of scotch that comes in a hand carved wooden box. Rich prick,” she added, but Sage could hear the fondness in her voice.

“A margarita would be great.” Sage replied, feeling something inside of her relax at how genuinely nice this stranger was being to her.

“Good choice,” Rebecca said as she slipped back inside.

Sage let out a slow breath. She’d been nervous about coming here with David’s friends. It was still so new between them, and they’d both been busy to the point that it felt like they barely had time to do anything other than share meals and fool around on the couch.

It was silly, really, but Sage had somehow reached twenty-three years old without ever actually dating someone. Well, technically she’d gone on a closely supervised date to the bowling alley with Brock Harlow when they were 6th graders, but that didn’t count.

Her first experience of anything that resembled a relationship was whatever she was supposed to call what she had with Evan. She’d been obsessed with him all while trying to feign unaffectedness; the only thing worse than having a secret high school hook-up was a high school hook-up who couldn’t keep her emotions in check.

Standing there on the deck right on the edge of the darkness, it was easy to look back on that time in her life from a distance. To see Evan White for what he’d been: a predator. But it was still just as easy for her to remember what it had been like to be the girl who’d received his advances like they might save her. Like if she could craft herself into the person and player he saw in her, then maybe she could have it all.

But of course that had ended, and, as a college student, she had found the transactional nature of the hook-up scene suited her. Meet someone, go back to their place, romp around and hopefully get off, and never stay the night.

It had worked well for her.

Actually dating? Actually deciding that she wanted more with a man than a physical exchange of you come/I come ? The thought was still terrifying.

But she couldn’t imagine not doing it with David. The idea of giving up his company was inconceivable. And his friendship and his body and orgasms?

Sign her the fuck up.

So she’d dove into dating David Hughes with no idea what to expect. And so far, it was shockingly similar to how things had already been between them.

They already hung out. They already shared meals. They already texted each other throughout the day.

Of course, now there were other things.

There was the fact that David was a toucher. He had his hands on her body at all times, either holding her hand, touching her lower back, or, when they sprawled out to read on his couch, he hauled her feet up onto his lap and dug his big thumbs into her arches. She was now, officially, a foot rub person.

There were also kisses — quick kisses in greeting, prolonged goodnight kisses where his big hands cradled her face with a tenderness that threatened to melt her.

And then there were the kisses that led to more, typically involving him pressing her against the closest solid surface, their tongues curling together in a way that made her core throb.

Those were her favorite.

A part of her was surprised that in the three weeks that had passed since the season concluded they hadn’t progressed beyond their hands. Her hand wrapped around him, tugging and twisting until he came with one of those choked groans that lit her skin on fire, and his fingers — long, thick, and so much rougher than hers — circling her clit with perfect, steady pressure before pressing inside of her, ultimately causing her complete obliteration.

David approached touching her like a scientist, watching her face and body, gauging each and every reaction. When she grew too still he adjusted, whereas when she trembled and jerked he remained steady and consistent. When she whispered “Harder” because she couldn’t wait another second, he obliged.

And she came .

Every single fucking time, Sage came with a silent, twisting shudder, like her body still couldn’t quite believe that this man had done that again. That any man had the patience and attention to get her off consistently.

“Here you go.” Rebecca walked up beside her and handed her a glass.

“Thanks.” Sage took a sip, humming as soon as the tang of lime hit her taste buds. “Fuck, that’s good.”

Rebecca grinned. “Darius may be worthless with a grill, but he makes a damn good margarita.” She nodded toward the grill, where a tray of steaks sat waiting. “Want to help?”

Soon, she and Rebecca were deep into a discussion of steak cooking techniques. Rebecca swore by the grill, whereas Sage had only ever used a cast iron. They both agreed that butter was necessary, but disagreed about whether or not rosemary was too overpowering.

Before long the rest of the group joined them. The guys carried out bowls of food and place settings for the long table, talking over each other and effortlessly oscillating between teasing and sincerity in the way that only people who have spent many years together could do. More drinks were poured, the steaks were served, and then they were all sitting together, passing around the various dishes and making last minute runs to the kitchen for whatever they’d forgotten.

It was all delicious. The steaks were accompanied by roasted cauliflower and sweet potatoes, steamed green beans, a spinach salad, and a loaf of bread that had come from a Charleston bakery Sage had never heard of.

She mostly listened, piecing together who each of them were from how the conversation flowed.

Rebecca owned a successful hair salon in Cannonborough, and she’d recently expanded her business to include other cosmetic services as well. Darius was a science teacher at a small local high school, and seemed to truly love the work that he did.

Tommy was the manager of a rental car office. It was one of those companies that taught business and managerial skills, and he was currently in the chase for a promotion to a regional manager position. His ex-wife, Courtney, had apparently taken their dog, which Tommy was still salty about, but couldn’t justify racking up more court fees to get him back.

Sage also learned that Tommy spent a lot of time at Chuck’s house, either raiding his fridge or napping on his couch. She couldn’t figure out if Chuck was actually annoyed with Tommy — the fond, almost soft looks the red-headed man kept sending him didn’t exactly scream ‘ pain in my ass .’

Keaton was a stereotype of Southern wealth plucked right from the pages of Charleston Magazine . He was a lawyer at his father’s firm, Redd and Whitaker, and was one of those men who was deeply committed to his weekly visit to the golf club. He’d been on the swim team with Chuck, which was how he’d gotten in with the group back in college.

Sage also learned that another couple, Ford and Louisa, usually came along for the trip, but they’d just had a baby in November and decided to sit out the year.

They included Sage in the conversation too, asking about her degree and how she’d liked her time at Southeastern. There were also plenty of questions about what it was like having David as a boss, no matter how many times they tried to clarify that he hadn’t technically been in charge of her. Throughout it all, David kept a steady, firm hand on her thigh, his thumb absently brushing the bare skin revealed by her cut-off jean shorts.

They were a good group of people, Sage thought, as the meal wound to a close. She stepped right in as plates were stacked and empty glasses gathered. She and Chuck loaded the dishwasher while Keaton hand-washed the larger dishes, Darius dried them, and David returned them to their proper places in the tall, hardwood cabinets that filled the open kitchen. Tommy and Rebecca dished up the leftovers, arguing about which movie they should watch that night.

Drinks were refilled and the group started moving toward the living room, where two leather sectionals made a large U shape around an absurdly large TV. Sage was following along, going with the flow of the group, when someone tugged at her hand.

She turned, looking up at David’s face as he pulled her in the opposite direction. His smile was almost bashful, maybe a little bit embarrassed as he led her back behind the kitchen, through a door, and down a sparsely-lit narrow stairwell.

When they reached the bottom David flicked on a light, revealing a basement that had been converted into a combination man-cave and arcade room. A polished wooden bar was built into one corner, and a pool table and foosball table took up most of the open space in the middle of the room. A few old arcade games stood against one wall, and the whole mood was set by the old pool lights that hung down from the ceiling.

Sage turned to David. “What are we doing?”