Sage

Sage

How I find myself in a fancy-ass dress store, playing dress up while Erica drinks champagne and laughs, I’ll never know.

“You can’t be serious,” I say with a scrunched nose as I come out in the one she insisted would look perfect on me.

“Oh my god, you look amazing,” she squeals as she looks over the baby pink gown.

“I look like a pack of Hubba Bubba bubble gum,” I say dryly.

Erica tosses her long hair back as she laughs. I, however, am not amused as I continue to give her a deadpan look. She tries to get it together, smothering her laughter as she runs her fingers over the material.

“It’s not that bad. It—”

“It is,” I scowl. “I told you. I’m wearing black.”

She rolls her eyes at me. “Fine, whatever. Black is so boring, though.”

I wave her off as I slip into the changing room, taking off the pink monstrosity and tossing it to the side like it will attack me any moment. I pull on the silky robe they left in the room for me before I’m back out on the sales floor and scouring through the black section of dresses. A sales lady was trying to help us, but one flash of Erica’s smile and a couple hundred dollars, and they all took an early lunch, closing the store down for our own private shopping.

Even though I come from a pretty wealthy family, my dad sure as hell never did shit like this for me, and I haven’t lived a lifestyle like that in years. Obviously Erica was born into this life, though, and it’s just what is done.

“What about this one?” I ask as I pull out a simple satin black sheath dress.

Erica wrinkles her nose up as she looks at me.

“Sweetie, you have a gorgeous body, why the hell are you not trying to show off those curves?”

I roll my eyes as I put it back and keep looking.

“I don’t mind showing off curves, I just don’t want to look like a barbie doll.”

She shakes her head as she begins thumbing through the dresses as well.

“So, you met Trevor’s parents,” she says, her eyes still on the dresses.

“Oh yeah. They just loved me,” I laugh.

Erica smirks. “They are a little much, but they do love Trevor. They are a lot like my parents. Very…particular.”

“Yeah, and they particularly don’t like me,” I snark.

Her eyes come to mine, curiosity practically drowning her bright green eyes.

“Does that bother you?”

I shake my head and scoff. “Hardly. I’ve been disappointing rich assholes since before I could say my first word. I could give a flying fuck about his parents.”

Erica nods as she keeps her eyes on me.

“So, why are you going tonight?”

“What do you mean? I told you. Trevor volunteered me,” I say with a roll of my eyes.

“You also said he offered to find someone else.”

I narrow my eyes slightly. “So?”

“Sooo, just curious what made you want to come down here, bitching and moaning about wearing a dress to spend an evening with two people who you obviously will not align with.”

“I’m just being nice, and it’ll be funny to fuck with his mom,” I say as I pull out another dress, showing it to her and causing her to shake her head once more.

Fucking hell this woman is picky.

I’m aggressively flipping through the dresses now, Erica’s incessant questions beginning to grate me as she speaks again.

“Or you got jealous.”

“What?” I laugh.

She shrugs. “It’s okay to admit that you like him, Sage. No one is going to blame you for it. He’s a great guy. He’s obviously gorgeous and funny and has the softest sweet side of almost anyone I’ve ever met.”

“And he’s madly in love with you,” I point out.

Her head moves from side to side as her mouth twists up in thought.

“Maybe not as much as you think he is.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I can’t tell you how many times he’s asked me to be his date to one of these things just over the last few years. It’s been a lot. Obviously out of respect to Sebastian, I never go with him, even as friends, because I know there is that blurry line. But this time, it’s actually local, last minute, and he didn’t even entertain the idea of asking me. Instead he assumed you would go with him. It’s just…different. And then you volunteering to go after he says he will find someone else—”

“Alright, Dr. Caldwell, thank you very much, but I think I’ve had enough of your half-baked psycho analysis.”

“I’m just saying, if you and Trevor wanted to give things a try past the little fuck buddy thing you guys have going on, I think you two would actually be really great for each other.”

I scoff at her words before grabbing a handful of dresses and stomping off toward the dressing room. She’s ridiculous. Trevor and I are like gasoline and fire. Sure we can burn hot and heavy for a little bit, right before we burn the world around us to the ground. We would be so destructive together, a disaster in the making. He would never be able to give himself to me the way he needs because he will always love someone else, and I would never be able to give myself to him because I’m petrified to fall in love ever again. As history proves, I don’t have a great picker.

A knock comes from the door before Erica pushes inside. Jesus, does this woman have no personal boundaries?

“Try this one,” she says as she practically shoves a dress into my chest.

I look down at it and don’t hate it right off the bat, which is more than I can say for all the other dresses that Erica has picked out.

Holding the dress up, I nod softly before pushing her out of the room. She laughs as she goes.

“You’re welcomeeee!” she sings.

It doesn’t take long to slip into it, but I can barely move in this room because the skirt is so big.

“I said I didn’t want poofy—” I complain as I step out to the mirror-surrounded showroom floor area.

Erica is looking at me with an excited gleam as my words trail off.

For a moment, I’m speechless. Holy fucking shit. This dress is next level.

The skirt is poofy but not in a bridal circus dress way. It’s just a lot of material that fans out to compliment the A-line dress with a thigh-high slit on my left side that is sure to give Trevor’s mom a heart attack. The sweetheart neckline has sharper lines than your classic circular shape with a nice deep slit for the cleavage. It’s accompanied by a single flat-laid cap sleeve that brings your eyes up to the collarbone. It’s practically ethereal, in a dark angel kind of way. I fucking love it.

I glance down at the price tag, my eyes practically bugging out of my head when I see the zeros continue. For a single dress? They are joking, right? For a moment, I kinda feel bad, but then I glance over to my purse where I know Trevor’s shiny black credit card is, and I feel a little better. He’s an asshole more days than not, and he’s dragging me to this thing. He owes me. Besides, our hate sex is some of the best.

“You look amazing!” Erica gushes. “Please tell me you’re getting that one!”

I nod as I look at myself in the mirror. “Definitely. Let me change and pay for this, and then let’s get some food. Lunch is on Trevor.”

After Erica and I got lunch, we went our separate ways and headed back home. When I got to Trevor’s house, he wasn’t there. So I took my ridiculously expensive dress and decided to start getting ready for this evening. I would never identify myself as a girly girl but that doesn’t mean I don’t know how to get dolled up every once in a while.

After my body is shaved and lotioned, and my hair and makeup are finished, I look in the mirror. I decided to go with some big barrel curls pushed over one shoulder as opposed to my typical pin-straight hair. I don’t think I’ve worn this much makeup in years, and honestly, I only had the bare essentials until Erica and I stopped at the store earlier today.

I paired the dress with a deep red lip and a pair of black stilettos that I also bought at the dress shop. I wonder how pissed Trevor will be when he sees his credit card bill.

When I’m done, I decide to go downstairs and grab a snack. God knows you pay an obscene amount per plate at things like this and walk away with a fifty-cent piece serving of food. The clicking of my heels echoes through the house, and when I get to the bottom of the stairs I see Trevor walking toward me in a crisp black tux. I’ve seen him in suits for gameday and press conferences, but there is something about a tux that just hits differently.

His broad shoulders take up every inch of the suit without making it look too tight. Obviously it’s tailored to him perfectly, and the material looks like a dream. His hair is styled perfectly, taming the little bit of wildness his hair can take on and instead, presenting him as the put-together golden boy he is, or at least the persona that he tries to display.

I watch as his bright blue eyes round slightly, his mouth just barely separating as he looks at me.

“Sage,” he says in a whisper, almost like a prayer against his lips.

The sound sends a trail of goose bumps across my skin and causes my heart to stall just for a moment.

“You clean up pretty well,” I say, doing my best to ignore the emotion building inside me.

“You look…” he trails off for a moment, shaking his head as his eyes bounce from mine to my lips.

“Exquisite,” he breathes out, so many emotions playing heavily in his eyes.

I feel my pulse begin to thunder, practically hearing the loud thump of my heartbeat.

“You like?” I say with a soft smile, doing my best to come across teasingly, but it sounds more breathy than anything.

I do a turn, and Trevor instantly grabs my hand, lifting it above my head as he guides the spin, slowing down the pace like he’s memorizing everything in this moment. When I make it full circle, I notice that I’m closer to him than before. His hand is still gripping mine as he lowers it to rest between our chests. His other hand reaches out and finds the thigh slit in the dress, brushing against the exposed skin in slow, methodical circles. There is no sexual intent behind his touch, no ulterior motive. It’s like he’s touching me just to feel my skin against his, and I don’t really know what to do with that kind of information.

“I love,” he says softly, my brain stalling for a moment before I realize he’s responding to my previous question of whether he liked it.

Fuck, get it together, Sage.

“Should we go?” I ask, horribly transitioning topics as I do.

Trevor stares at me for another second or two before he blinks and nods.

“Yeah, yes. Let’s go,” he says as he walks over to the island where his phone and wallet are.

I grab my clutch I left down here earlier before reaching inside and handing him his credit card.

“What’s the damage?” he asks as he slips it back into his wallet.

I laugh in a way that I hope is as devious as I feel.

“You don’t want to know.”

His eyes scrape over me like a set of hot coals, a smirk spreading across his face as he gives me a quick wink.

“Worth it,” he says before smacking my ass and leading the way to the car.