Page 99 of Courtside

“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.”

“Thoughtyou 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 genuinelynicethis 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 ofyou come/I come? The thought was still terrifying.

But she couldn’t imaginenotdoing it with David. The idea of giving up his company was inconceivable. And his friendshipandhis 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.

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