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“Is sparkling water okay?” He holds up the glass.
“Sure.” I nod and take it.
Sparkling water tastes like a penny in my mouth, but I won’t tell him that. I’ll take tiny sips and swallow quickly so that the flavor doesn’t linger.
He sips his red wine and looks around.
“I wonder how long we have to stay here.”
“There’s a dinner, right?” Honestly, the thought of sitting at dinner with a group of people I don’t know intimidates me.
“Yeah, but I think we may be able to escape before then.”
“Are you crazy? Won’t they get upset? They paid for your meal.”
“Nah.” He shakes his head. “It’s probably buffet style like everything else they do, catered by my parents’ favorite restaurant. We could probably leave in a bit, and they won’t notice.” He shrugs.
“If you say so.” I furrow my brows, unsure.
“Trust me.” He eyes my glass. “You’re not thirsty?”
“Yeah.” I take a sip, barely opening my lips.
I try so hard not to react to the flavor, but I swallow as if it were slime. Tristan narrows his eyes.
“Do you not like sparkling water?”
“Of course I do.”
“Then why does it look like you’re having trouble swallowing? And your face is all scrunched up like you might throw up.” His eyebrow arches accusingly.
“It’s delicious. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I take a gulp to prove him wrong and instantly regret it.
I swallow it down right before sputtering. Tristan’s eyes widen, slapping my back.
“Don’t choke on my account.”
“Not . . . choking,” I cough out.
“Do you want a Coke?”
“Please,” I practically beg.
“You don’t have to pretend with me, Sage. Just with my parents.”
“Wonderful,” I mumble, hoping the Coke will cancel out this metallic flavor in my mouth.
“Tristan, come here.” His dad waves him over.
“We’ll socialize a bit and go.” He nods and grabs my hand before we walk over to a group of men.
“I hear you spent time volunteering for Without Borders,” a man says.
“Yes, sir. I was in Africa with them until a few months ago.” Tristan’s body language shifts, his stance wide and shoulders set back in confidence.
“I have a friend who donates to their cause. Maybe you know him? Henry Beaumont.”
“Not familiar with him, but his donation is appreciated. The charity works with some underserved populations. They do a lot of good.” Gone is the teasing man. This is the same side of him I saw when he told me what he plans to do for a living—passionate and professional.
