Her Hometown Hero - Melody Anne Page 0,38

said, making Sage turn to see the satisfied smirk on her friend’s face.

“They looked fine. I just think those branches won’t hold them,” Sage said, not wanting to admit her need for perfection or hurt her friend’s feelings.

“You know, if I didn’t love you so dang much, I might be offended that you think I’m a terrible decorator,” Grace said before taking a sip of coffee.

“I don’t think you’re terrible, not at all. It’s just that I don’t want the branches to break,” she said on a sigh.

“I’ll let you think that I believe that,” Grace said with a wink. “But I will admit that your compulsion to make everything perfect is just one of the many reasons I adore you.”

“You know I love you, too, Grace.”

“Now, back to why you were moaning in your sleep,” Grace said, not letting Sage off the hook.

“I was not moaning in my sleep.”

“Ha! I caught you,” Grace said, sitting up a little taller against the back of the couch. “There’s no way you’d be turning so red if there wasn’t something you were actually trying to hide. You’ve been my best friend since the first day of kindergarten. Why in the world wouldn’t you spill your guts to me? I’m hurt.”

“Wait a minute! You want me to spill, but I spotted you in town with Camden yesterday and you haven’t said a word.” Now Grace was the one blushing, and Sage had the upper hand.

“That was nothing. We were just . . . uh . . . talking. Besides, this is about you right now, not me.”

“I’ll tell if you do, Grace, ’cause right now it looks as if we’ve both been holding back.”

Sage had been having a nice lazy morning getting the tree decorated just the way she liked it—color coordinated and symmetrically appealing—drinking her coffee, and even contemplating reading the paper—not that Sterling had much of a paper. Grace, for once, also had a bit of time off, so it was supposed to be just a relaxing morning. But this was better.

“Look, it’s not even Thanksgiving for a couple of days. The tree can wait. Come sit down with me and tell me all. I think my innocent ears may get singed if the ten different vases sitting on every available space in our apartment are any indication. Only a man who is incredibly pleased or incredibly guilt-ridden sends so many bouquets.”

“No, I haven’t done anything for the flowers,” Sage said. And then she stopped, her turncoat face turning scarlet again and spilling the beans for her.

“You have done something, Sage! You know I can always tell when you’re lying.”

“Fine, then.” How was she going to speak about this? How could she not? She’d thought of little else since that night in his home last week.

Taking a deep breath, she looked at Grace, her cheeks permanently red, her stomach tied in knots. “It was the night of that huge storm, when I couldn’t get home. Spence and I had a few kisses.” Okay, this was harder to say than she’d imagined. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“And . . .” Grace was sitting on the edge of her seat now, not allowing Sage to look away.

“Well, then we got into the hot tub . . .” She just couldn’t admit her humiliation to Grace. It was too horrid.

“Tell me everything now, or I swear, Sage, we will no longer be besties.”

“We started to make love and then he jetted off to another state practically before I even arrived back home,” Sage said hurriedly.

“Wait! You started to make love? How far did you get? What exactly happened?”

“We . . . um . . . went all the way—or sort of all the way—but he freaked when he found out I was a virgin, and neither of us had a happy ending,” Sage said, feeling the humiliation all over again. “He just stopped.”

“What? You’re kidding, right?”

“I wish I were. And he hasn’t spoken to me since. He went to Seattle the next day and he’s been gone all week.”

“No phone calls, nothing, just flowers?”

“Yeah,” Sage said, not even wanting to look at the freaking flowers.

“Well, that sucks. What kind of man doesn’t even call? Hell, I remember when we were in middle school and you doodled his name all over your notebook: Sage and Spence forever,” Grace said with an indignant scowl.

“I guess we didn’t choose too wisely, because I recall that on your notebook it said Grace plus Camden equals forever.”

“Yeah, we

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