Irresistible

NINE

Sage and I stroll through the hallway, walking to where Sage's car is parked, each step heavy with unspoken tension like usual. I can't shake the feeling of wanting to escape this moment.

As we approach, my eyes widen in surprise at the sight of Sage's sleek, blacked-out Range Rover. Slipping into the passenger seat, I'm greeted by the striking red interior and ambient LED lights beneath the seats.

"I love your car," I compliment, unable to hide my admiration. This is a nice ass car.

Sage flashes a smile as she shifts gears and pulls out of the parking space. "Thank you," she replies casually.

I couldn't help but want to know more about her, so I press further, "What do you do for work?"

"I own my own stylist company," Sage responds nonchalantly, as if it's no big deal.

My eyes widen, that's why she has such good style. "Wow," I murmur, "What's it called?"

"It's called Revive," Sage replies, her eyes lighting up. "We make custom clothing for celebrities, like outfits for special galas or premieres, stuff like that," she explains, noticing my curiosity, her fingers tapping on the steering wheel gently as we wait at a red light.

"That's so impressive, Sage," I respond, feeling somewhat astonished. Does that mean she went to college? There is still so much I don't know about her.

Sage glances at me, her blue eyes searching my face gently. "Thanks. Maybe one day I could style you," she says softly, almost whispering.

I blush, she wants to style me?

"Well, you won't be able to style me if we die. Keep your eyes on the road," I tease, snapping my fingers and eliciting a beautiful laugh from Sage that I couldn't help smile at.

As Sage looks away, I find myself unable to tear my eyes away from her. The dimly lit interior of the car seems to cast a soft glow on her features, highlighting the delicate curves of her face.

"You know, it's hard to find someone who appreciates good style," I remark, breaking the comfortable silence that envelops us.

The blonde turns towards me, our eyes locking for a fleeting moment before she looks away and responds, her words accompanied by a subtle shift in her expression. "Well, I've always believed that style is a reflection of personality, and yours... well, yours speaks volumes," she says, her compliment sending a warm flutter through my chest.

Well, I think it was a compliment.

"You're quite the observer, aren't you?" I say with a soft laugh.

She shrugs nonchalantly, her demeanor relaxed.
"Only when something catches my attention," she replies.

There it is. The flirting that feels so natural that I have to remind myself we shouldn't be doing this. Sage is just irresistible—her personality, her humor, everything about her draws me in.

Before I can dwell too much on these thoughts, Sage's actions pull me back to the present. She smoothly puts the car in park and turns off the engine, breaking the trance-like state our conversation had created.

As we step out of the car, a gentle breeze runs through the night air, causing a shiver to ripple down my spine. I steal a glance at Sage, who's already retrieved a hellstar hoodie from the backseat and is handing it to me.

"Here, it's chilly out," she says, her voice laced with concern.

I offer a shy smile and accept the hoodie, the scent of Sage's cologne enveloping me as I do. "Thank you," I reply shyly.