Page 54 of Fielder's Choice

“I’m so glad you’re here, Liv!” Harlow chimes, quickly wrapping her arms around my shoulders for a tight hug. Pulling away, she gestures to the man next to her. “Olive, this is Knox, myfiancé.”

“Nice to finally put a face to the woman Lane can’t stop talking about,” he chuckles.

Does Lane really talk about me that much? Every time I meet someone, they say some variation of the same thing.

“I’m going to go talk to my parents for a little bit.” Knox kisses Harlow softly. “Love you, Freckles.”

“Love you, too, Slick.”

When Knox is out of earshot, I turn back to Lo. “You make such a sweet couple!”

“Thank you,” she smiles. “Can you believe that man used to not talk to anyone?”

“It’s a little hard to believe,” I chuckle.

“Love changes a man,” Rory chimes, joining us.

Harlow laughs. “Cole didn’t change a damn bit, babe. He was always so far gone for you.”

“He was,” she grins. Her look is more mischievous now. “What do we think about Lane?”

Lo smirks. “Oh, he’s completely gone for her.”

“No,” I blush. “We’re, uh… friends.”

“Friends who sure looked like they were about to kiss in the kitchen a little bit ago,” Rory teases.

Harlow lights up. “Wait, really?!”

I groan. “We were only talking when Rory walked in.”

“Neither of you were speaking a word when I walked in,” Rory says. “You were just staring at each other.”

My blush deepens, and I take a sip of my wine to keep myself composed. “Sage looks adorable tonight, doesn’t she?”

They both laugh but roll with my change of subject.

“She’s the fucking cutest,” Harlow says.

She’s even cuter than usual tonight. She’s wearing a tan sweater tucked into a burnt orange skirt with a pair of white Mary Janes over top of some white tights.

So fucking cute.

“Ballerina,” a husky voice says, resting a hand low on my back. “Wondered where you ran off to.”

Rory eyes him. “Possessive much, Lane?”

His laugh is deep. “Can you blame me?”

Harlow smiles brightly. “You two are so damn cute.”

Lane looks right at me, eyes full of affection. “She is cute, isn’t she?”

I gulp the rest of my wine, clearly having lost any sense of composure I had. “It’s, uh, late. I should probably get going soon so I can hail a taxi.”

“You’re not leaving alone, Olive.” Lane’s voice is stern but gentle. “It’s late, and who knows if you can trust your cab driver.”

“What am I supposed to do then?” I challenge.

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