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“Enough,” Hope says. “I am the worst artist in the world. It’s a known fact. Now, can we stop laughing about my failed masterpieces?”
“Aw, babe, I thought it was great.” Toby winks at her.
“You’re such a liar, but you did keep it hung in your room for years because you felt bad.” She smiles affectionately at her fiancé.
“I kept it because it was yours,” he says.
I shake my head as I stare at them. When a sharp jab on my ribs startles me, I look at Sage.
“Don’t look disgusted. They’re in love. Look happy for them.” She widens her eyes.
“I didn’t look disgusted,” I whisper.
“You did. Your face was all.” She grimaces, holding the expression.
“I didn’t do that.” I relax the muscles on my face and purse my lips.
“I should’ve taken a picture.”
“If you want a picture of me on your phone, just ask,” I smirk.
“You’re impossible.” She rolls her eyes, but I see the way her lips quirk at the corners.
“Anyway, I’m sure you’re much better,” Hope interrupts our whispered conversation.
“Well, I never drew an apple that looked like a booty,” Sage laughs.
“Wonderful. Instead of living this down, they let more people in on the joke,” Hope says sarcastically.
“It’s all in good fun,” Lex says.
I can’t help but notice how well Sage fits in. She jumped into the conversation, making herself a part of it. When the waiter brings her a drink, and she takes a tentative sip, I carefully watch her reaction. The way her lips frame the glass, the small sigh she makes when she gets that first taste, her smile when she realizes she likes it. Little things about her are easy to notice.
It’s like I’m a private investigator hired to learn every tiny detail about Sage, and I’m taking my job seriously.
“It’s really good.” She nods in approval.
“I told you,” I say smugly.
“Always so humble,” she teases.
“Always so honest,” I retort with a wink.
“You’re coming to the wedding, right?” Hope asks her.
“Oh, I—“
“She is.” I nod firmly, wrapping my arm around her shoulder, resting it on the back of her chair. Sage looks over at me with wide eyes.
“She’s shy about it, but she’ll be there.”
“I don’t want to put anyone out,” Sage explains.
“You aren’t. When Tristan told us he’d be bringing a date, I assumed it was you. We’re happy to have you celebrate with us.” Hope smiles.
“Oh, well, thank you.”
“You see?”
