Page 6 of Roughing It

Flor twists her hands in her lap. “We invited some other friends.”

I frown. That’s also not unusual. Sage is a trust fund kid and a former frat boy, and while I like to joke that he’s in recovery from that toxic culture, he does still speak to a lot of his old college social circle. I’ve been to more than one random party with dudes who look like they subsist on boat shoes and shots of Jäger instead of food and oxygen.

“Babe,” Sage warns again, and the anxiety in my gut gets worse.

Flor swallows thickly, then turns in her seat when Sage clears his throat. “We invitedoneother friend,” she clarifies.

I sit back, horror smacking me right in the face as I realize what she’s saying. “Is this a setup?”

She grips the back of her seat, practically leaning over. “No! Not… exactly. He’s Sage’s coworker. He just started at his office, and we had dinner with him the other day. His girlfriend dumped him over the holidays.”

I can’t really decide how I’m feeling. Flor always has the best of intentions, but she also doesn’t always have the best taste in men. In truth, she lucked out with Sage because she dated some real winners before he came along.

“So, you want me to, what? Grief-bond with him?” I ask, my tone a little snappy. “Talk about how shitty it feels when people treat us like we’re disposable?”

Her face falls. “I just thought some common ground might be nice. And I swear, he has no expectations, okay? I told him that you were getting over a breakup—”

“You told him about John?” I ask, feeling on the verge of losing it now.

“I didn’t give him any details,” Flor insists, sounding stressed. “I promise.”

I turn my gaze to Sage. His lips are pressed into a thin line, hands tight around the steering wheel. “Doyoulike this guy?”

He shrugs one shoulder. “I actually haven’t talked to him much. He’s a brand-new hire, and he’s not in my department. He seemed nice enough when we went out for pizza the other night.”

Great. Some stranger Flor and Sage don’t even know. I have a feeling Sage would have put his foot down, but Flor wouldn’t let it go, and it probably wasn’t worth the fight to him.

I look at her again. “I’m not ready to go on some romantic weekend with a rando your husband brought home from the office.”

She winces. “You won’t bewithhim, okay? You’re with us. You’re with me,” she insists. She reaches for my hand while looking over at Sage. “Babe, I’m divorcing you.”

The corner of his mouth lifts, his tension easing. “Alright.”

“I’m dating Eden now,” she clarifies, like we both didn’t already know where she was going with this. Her fingers brush over my wrist before gripping me tight. “You’re my girlfriend this weekend, so you’re taken. You and Monty can be just friends. With some benefits.” She waggles her eyebrows at me. “You and I aren’t exclusive. You’re welcome to have some fun.”

Oh my god.

I narrow my eyes even as I take comfort in having her hold my hand. “You know I hate when you drop stuff like this on me.”

She bows her head. “I know. But I figured it might be nice to just let loose a little bit. It’s not like I think you should marry the guy. Just a sexy, sweaty weekend up in the mountains, you know?”

I should be mad. I would be mad, but… maybe a weekend flingisjust the thing I need. I may be overworked, but I’m not dead, and if he’s not expecting a relationship, maybe I can get away with a bit of fun.

“Is he hot?” I finally ask.

Sage laughs again, and Flor drops my hand, practically lifting onto her knees before Sage grabs the side of her shirt and tugs her back down into her seat. “He’ssohot,” she says. “Tall, blond, blue eyes.”

Honestly, not my type, but beggars can’t be choosers.

“Hey,” Sage complains. He runs his fingers through his dark hair, and she fixes heart eyes on him.

“You know you’re the hottest man I have ever met. I already married you. Stop fishing.” Her words are snappy, but her tone is full of how much she loves this guy.

“I thought we were divorced,” he says with a grin.

She rolls her eyes. “Yes, but just for a minute. You know you’re it for me.”

He reaches out and strokes her cheek with the backs of his knuckles, and I look away. It kind of hurts to watch them like this. By the time I glance back at her, she’s settled into her seat but still looking at me.

“We good?” she asks, voice softer, like she really wants to make sure she hasn’t gone too far this time.

I bite my lip, letting her squirm for a second. “Maybe. But if we do end up at a fancy dinner, you’re buying the most expensive dress in the boutique.”

She grins and claps her hands together. “Done!”

Ah hell, I’ve just made her entire day.

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