Page 90 of Safe Place

SOPHIE

The first thing I notice when I walk into Micah’s penthouse isn’t the view—it’s the noise. Grant and Wyatt are sprawled on the sectional, already bickering over whatever game’s on the TV. Poppy’s curled up in an armchair with her laptop, earbuds dangling from one ear as she half-smiles at their ridiculous commentary.

Grant throws an arm over the back of the couch when he spots me. “Well, well. Look who finally came back from her mystery weekend getaway. You’ve got a glow, Lenny. Don’t even try to deny it.”

It’s been a few days since we’ve been back, but I haven’t seen Grant since. Of course this would be the first thing to come out of his mouth.

I roll my eyes, dropping my bag by the door. “It was just a weekend.”

“Yeah,” Wyatt says dryly, not looking up from the controller in his hands. “A weekend you came back from smiling like that.”

Of course they’d notice.

Grant grins like he’s just won the lottery. “Don’t worry, Soph. We’re proud. Really. About time someone knocked Vale off his pedestal.”

Micah, coming in from the kitchen with a glass of water, snorts. “Knocked me off my pedestal?”

He walks over to me, sliding an arm around my waist before pressing a kiss to the top of my head. The simple gesture makes my heart squeeze.

“Don’t act clueless,” Grant fires back. “Everyone knows Sophie’s the real MVP here. You’re just the arm candy.”

Everyone laughs—even Poppy, who tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and shakes her head at them. The tension in my shoulders eases. It’s ridiculous and loud, but it feels easy.

Wyatt groans when the other team scores. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Grant smirks. “Face it, they’re better.”

“Better? That was a foul!” Wyatt shoots back.

Poppy glances up from her laptop. “You two are like literal children.”

Grant immediately grabs a pillow and lobs it at her. She dodges without even looking, smirking as she keeps typing. Wyatt takes the opening and hurls a pillow at Grant, nailing him in the shoulder.

Grant jerks around, offended. “What the hell was that?”

“You don’t throw pillows at women,” Wyatt says flatly.

It’s very faint, but I swear I see Poppy blushing.

We order pizza not long after. That, of course, turns into its own battle.

“Pepperoni, sausage, and—” Wyatt starts.

“—pineapple,” Grant interrupts, grinning like he’s daring someone to fight him.

“Absolutely not,” Poppy says immediately. “Fruit doesn’t belong on pizza.”

“Thank you,” Wyatt mutters.

“Oh, please,” Grant argues. “Pineapple is elite. It’s a masterpiece.”

“Pineapple on pizza is a crime,” Poppy shoots back.

But when the pizza arrives, she still steals a slice from the pineapple box. Wyatt notices, I can tell, though he doesn’t say anything.

Grant makes a dramatic show of guarding the last piece of pepperoni. “Survival of the fittest, people.”

“Give it to Sophie,” Micah says, leaning close to me with a conspiratorial smile. “Or I’ll never hear the end of it.”