“Well, if she tries anything with him this weekend—” The knife cuts more bread on the board with a steady slice. “She will regret it.”
I widened my eyes at the hint of steel in her voice. Sage was not a woman anyone would want to mess with.
“I doubt she will.” I plopped a grape in my mouth and helped her carry the trays to the deck.
By the time we’re halfway to Plymouth, the sun is fully up and the air has warmed just enough to take the edge off the cold.
The sails are full now, canvas taut and bright against the sky. The boat cuts cleanly through the water, steady and sure, like it knows exactly where it’s going. Gulls wheel overhead, crying sharply, then scatter as we pass beneath them. The breeze liftsloose strands of hair, snaps at jackets, tugs at anything not tied down.
Everyone’s in a good mood.
Which makes it worse.
Sage hasn’t spoken to Kate or Kristen once since we came back up from below. Not a glance. Not a smile. Nothing.
Instead, she’s been glued to Ethan.
At first it’s subtle—her hand on his arm, leaning in when he speaks. Then it’s not subtle at all.
Ethan laughs and gestures toward the helm. “You want to try?”
Sage’s face lights up. “Seriously?”
“Yeah. Come on.”
He steps behind her, guiding her hands to the wheel. Her fingers curl around it, tentative at first, then more confident as the boat responds. Ethan’s hands come up over hers, adjusting her grip, his chest close to her back.
Kate lets out a low whistle from the bench. “Wow. VeryTitanicof you.”
Kristen snickers. “I was waiting for ‘I’m flying.’”
Sage laughs—but there’s no humor in it.
She steps away from the wheel slowly, deliberately, brushing past them as if by accident. As she passes, she leans in just enough that only they can hear her.
I’m close enough to catch it.
“Really?” she hisses, the word sharp and venomous, carried on the wind. “You’re just jealous because you couldn’t bag him. You got a drunk hookup. I got the relationship.”
The words slither out of her mouth, low and precise.
Kate stiffens.
Kristen’s smile vanishes.
Neither of them says anything—but I inhale sharply, the sound ripping out of me before I can stop it.
Ethan and Tony don’t hear a thing. The wind steals it, whips it away.
My stomach drops.
Oh God.
I stare at Sage like I don’t recognize her. Like I’ve just watched a mask slip and hit the deck.
I should have kept my mouth shut.
She turns back toward Ethan, all smiles again, sliding seamlessly into place like nothing happened.
