Groans. Throw pillows thrown. Someone almost choked laughing.
Even Sage laughed, head tipped back, bright and carefree.
Watching her like that, you’d never guess we’d been screaming at each other an hour ago.
That’s what messed with me the most.
How easily she could flip.
How easily we both could.
Like none of it stuck.
Except it did.
Because every time someone glanced at us, I still caught that flicker.
That quiet, cautious look.
Like they were waiting to see if we’d blow again.
By the time the sun dipped and someone suggested heading into town, the mood was almost normal.
Almost.
“Club?” Tony said. “One big night. Let’s do it right.”
Everyone cheered.
Sage slid her hand into mine, fingers threading tight.
Possessive.
Claiming.
I squeezed back automatically.
And told myself this time would be different.
We’d already had our drama for the day.
We’d burned it off.
Right?
Yeah.
Right.
By the time we got to the club, the day had mostly reset.
Dinner had done what I hoped it would. Feeding people always helped. Cooking together made Sage and me look functional. Normal. Like a couple you’d bring on vacation without a disclaimer.
Everyone seemed willing to pretend the beach thing hadn’t happened.
Which I appreciated more than I wanted to admit.
It was packed inside—Fourth of July weekend, every summer rental kid within driving distance crammed into one place.Loud, crowded, anonymous. Exactly the kind of room where nobody pays attention to anyone else.
