Chapter 30
Ashton
Itext Gunnar to see if he and Stella want to join us.
They have plans, and they ask me to join them, but I tell them I’m going to stay with Sophie.
I’m sure Stella isn’t thrilled about that.
I understand why she wouldn’t want me around Sophie. I get why their father doesn’t trust me either. And maybe if this was all about making sure they don’t decide I need to be punished more for the accident, I would listen to their warnings and abide by their concerns.
But it’s more than that now.
I know Sophie doesn’t blame me. Won’t want me punished.
And I’m still here. With her.
We decide to order burgers from the fish and chip place because Sophie wants me to taste how good they are. I let her pick the movie. I’m kind of hoping she’ll pick Alien because I haven’t seen it in a while.
It takes her forever to decide, scrolling through the streaming channels, looking at new releases and older ones.
We debate her choices—too slow, too much CGI, too sad—until we stumble across a group of movies from the 1990s.
The burgers are already here when she finally picks one starring Drew Barrymore.
“Did you ever meet her?” Sophie asks as we unwrap our burgers. The scent of grilled meat, caramelized onions, and crispy French fries makes my stomach growl.
Lately, Sophie is obsessed with how many celebrities I know. Not that I know them, but I’m met my fair share.
I’ve dated a few as well, but she never asks me about them. And I’m glad.
I don’t want to talk about my exes or girls I’ve casually dated.
Especially the ones I’ve met at parties, and taken a liking to for the night, only to leave their texts unread and unresponded to.
Yes, it’s a jerk move. No, I never really thought about it before now.
Yes, I can understand why Stella and Duncan want me to stay far away from Sophie.
“Years ago,” I confirm, popping a fry into my mouth. “She’s pretty cool.”
“Who was your favourite famous person you’ve met?” she demands as she steals an extra crispy fry from my plate, replacing it with two of her own.
I shrug. “I don’t have one. They’re just people.”
“You only say that because you’re famous too.”
Maybe I am, but I don’t feel famous. At least, not with Sophie. “I met Dwayne Johnson once,” I offer. “He was intense, but fun.”
“The Rock is what impresses you? Not some beautiful actress?” she asks slyly.
I shake my head. “Most of them aren’t as beautiful on the inside. Makeup covers up a lot.”
We settle on the couch, and Sophie continues with the questions as the movie starts, but they trickle off as we watch the love story between Drew and Adam Sandler.
I tell Sophie that in real life, he’s funny, but quieter than you’d expect.
We eat our burgers, and she lets me finish her fries, and we watch the movie.
It’s comfortable. Cozy, once Sophie moves closer and throws her blanket over our legs.
Couple-y.
I haven’t been part of a couple in a while, and I never expected to be playing at it with someone like Sophie Laz.
But it feels nice, being here with her. Sitting close enough that her hand brushes my thigh under the blanket. Sharing the last of the fries.
Watching Drew and Adam fall in love, and wondering what it would be like to kiss Sophie.
I actually can’t stop thinking about that, especially when on screen, they finally get together.
But I can’t kiss Sophie because we’re not really a couple.
Not at all. I don’t know what we are, but it’s not a couple, real or not. We’re friends. And she’s not the type of friend I can kiss randomly, and then forget about her.
I’m going to leave Battle Harbour—maybe soon—and Sophie is not. I’m not one for long distance, and she will never leave here. And I wouldn’t want it to be weird between us when I do come back.
So no kissing.
Although I am very conscious of her beside me. Her hair smells of strawberries, but there’s a cookie scent as well, maybe vanilla in her perfume.
Does she even wear perfume?
The girls I’ve dated practically bathe in it. All of them had a signature scent, and most of them advertised what they wore in exchange for bottles of the stuff.
They did the same for makeup. Clothing brands. One girl told me she’d been gifted enough skin care products to last until she got old—about thirty-five.
I never texted her back.
I would never be sitting here, watching an old movie with one of them. We would be out, being seen, being photographed, being a famous person doing regular things, like going to movie premieres, club openings, birthdays spent on yachts in the Mediterranean.
Only, I don’t think the things we did could ever be regular for someone like Sophie.
Would she even want that life, if she had the choice? Would I want it for her?
Do I want it? Because this… this is pretty nice.
On screen, Adam gets the girl, and it’s a happy ending, and there’s kissing. Sophie is still beside me and I’m so conscious of her, it’s getting uncomfortable.
What’s she thinking? Is she as aware of me as I am of her?
I glance over to find her looking at me. We smile and look away.
“What was your first kiss like?” Sophie asks.
That was not what I thought she was thinking. “Did you just ask me about kissing another girl?”
“Why wouldn’t I ask you? We’re friends, aren’t we?”
“Is that what we are?”
“You tell me. I wouldn’t say we were anything else.”
That makes it clear there should be no kissing.
“Like enemies,” she adds awkwardly.
“Why would we be enemies? Did you not like me?”
She looks at me quickly, and turns away. “Of course I liked you.”
The thing is, I’m pretty sure Sophie liked me before. Not like this; there was none of this where we’re comfortable and quiet and at ease. I think she might have had a crush on me.
And then I’m pretty sure she didn’t. She stopped. By the time the car had crashed into Sophie, her heart had recovered from whatever I unintentionally did to it.
This time, it was intentional, and I am not proud of that.
“You like everybody,” I say.
“No, I don’t.”
“Name one person you dislike,” I challenge.
And Sophie has to think about it, like I knew she would have to. “Nathalia, who used to work at Coffee for the Sole,” she finally comes up with. “She wasn’t a very nice person.”
“Is that the one Fen got fired? If so, I think she’s the one who told the police I was a dangerous driver.”
I hold my breath. This is getting into dangerous territory. Sophie hasn’t mentioned the accident in weeks, and I didn’t want to bring it up. Like when two people cheat on an exam, and only one gets caught.
There could be a lot of emotions, and I am not trained in any way to deal with emotions.
I don’t think Sophie blames me for incapacitating her for almost four weeks with broken toes, but I don’t know for sure unless I were to ask her.
Which I don’t want to do. Not now.
“We’re friends,” I assure her.
I didn’t have to woo her. I just needed to make her my friend.
“You sound like you’re not sure.”
“Sure. I’m sure.”
She laughs. “And now you sound like it’s not a good thing.”
“It’s a good thing.” I think I sound a little too enthusiastic. “Women don’t want to be my friend.”
“What are you talking about? You’ve got Lavinia—”
“I dated her.”
It’s so natural that Sophie knows who my friends are. She’s asked, I’ve told her stories, and she’s even talked to Basher on FaceTime when I was out of the room.
“Coral—”
“Coral was my first kiss, actually,” I admit. “No, second.”
Sophie is excited about the quick change in subject. She shifts to stare at me with an eager expression. “Who was your first kiss?”
I do a slow shake of my head. “I don’t think you want to know.”
“Oh, I do.” And she clearly does—Sophie sits upright, hands clasped under her chin. “Who was she?”
“She was—ugh. I can’t believe I forgot about this.”
“How can you forget about your first kiss?” she demands.
“Who was your first kiss?” I counter to get it away from me.
“Lucas Benoit, when I was seventeen,” she says promptly, like it wasn’t traumatic at all. That there were no bad feelings about it. That it even might have been a good kiss.
It’s odd how I dislike thinking of Sophie having a good kiss with someone else. “I thought you said it was Bo?”
“Bo wasn’t a real kiss,” she says with a knowing smile. “I was ten. Things aren’t real at ten.”
“Don’t tell Princess Tema that,” I warn. The newest royal princess has been out of town with Bo or I’m sure she’d be hanging out with Sophie all the time.
And me. She’d want to hang out with me. Most women do.
“Okay, so I told you my truths,” Sophie insists. “Your turn. First kiss was with…”
“You won’t respect me in the morning.”
Sophie blinks. “Do you think I respect you now?” And then she laughs. “Just teasing. Of course I respect you.”
I groan. “You can’t even tease someone without worrying about hurting their feelings.”
“I know. I’m so sad.”
“No.” I study her smiling face with real affection. “You’re not.”
We share a smile. A moment.
It stretches between us. “You have to tell me,” Sophie whispers, breaking the spell. “If you want to.”
“Fine.” I lean back with my arms behind my head. It’s better to keep up the persona of the cool guy who doesn’t care. “I was fifteen and she… she was older.”
Sophie’s eyes widen. “How old?”
“Twenty-two old.”
“Ew.” Her face scrunches, and I’d laugh if I wasn’t traumatized by the event. “There’s no way I would kiss a fifteen-year-old when I was twenty-two. That’s… that’s Wyatt’s age.”
“Maybe not the best decision, but she kissed me,” I point out. “And she was also my brother’s girlfriend at the time.”
She leans forward. “Now you really have to tell me more.”
“There’s not much to tell. My parents were hosting a party, one of the first that Fen and I were allowed to attend. Evan had been seeing this girl for a few months. I forget her name.”
I didn’t forget. Her name was Nicole.
“And how did she end up kissing you when she was dating your brother?” Sophie demands.
“They had a fight. Alcohol might have been involved. And there’s not many fifteen-year-olds who would say no thank you when a pretty sexy older woman tells you she wants to kiss you to find out if you’re a better kisser than your brother.”
“She said that? Red flag in the relationship or what!”
“Totally. Anyway, Evan walked in on us and blamed me. Of course. And she let him. It was another six months before they broke up and he finally listened to my side of the story. I still don’t think he believed me.” I shrug. “It wasn’t much, but that was my first kiss.”
“That’s horrible.”
“Actually, as far as kisses go, it wasn’t that bad. Better than some of the first kisses I’ve had.”
“Why? Are you a bad kisser?”
I give her a look. “Really?”
“It has to be asked. If all your first kisses are bad.”
“It really doesn’t. And I don’t know. Maybe… pressure?”
“You or them?”
“Maybe both? I am a catch, and that could intimidate some girls. But living up to expectations all of the time…” I shrug again, frowning at her expression. “What? Don’t pity me.”
“I’m not pitying you. I’m just wondering…”
“I see the wheels turning.”
“Ha.” She sticks her tongue out. And then she moves.
It’s awkward, like so many things with her broken toes, but she heaves herself to her feet, and gives a little hop, like she’s moving closer to me. “Sophie, don’t. What are you—what are you doing…”
My words trail off because Sophie hops over to me, close enough for her to sit/fall onto my lap. “Hello?”
“Hi.” Her smile is infectious.
“What are you doing? Was your seat not comfortable?”
“I want to give you a good first kiss,” she whispers.
Something happens in my chest. There’s a clutch and a twist and then warmth. All over warmth that has nothing to do with the fire or the fact Sophie is sitting on my lap.
“You… okay…?” I whisper.
I didn’t say no to Nicole kissing me at fifteen, and there is no way I’m about to say no to Sophie. If she’s really planning on kissing me?
Because from the look on her face, I’m not really sure.
“Is that okay?” She looks unsure, and kind of like she can’t believe she’s doing this.
That makes two of us.
“Yeah…” Bemused, I stare as Sophie cups my cheek, sliding her thumb over my bottom lip. Is this for real?
“I don’t think it’s fair that you have never had a good first kiss. And that bad girlfriend ruined it for you.”
“And you think you make up for that?”
“No. But I think I can give you a pretty good first kiss.”
My hands slid around her waist of their own accord. “Have at it, then.”
So much for my vow of no kissing her. I’m fifteen again, when Nicole and her red lipstick is moving in.
I’ve never seen Sophie with lipstick.
The first touch of her lips is soft and tentative. I knew it would be, because what I know about Sophie tells me that this is not the norm for her.
That’s what makes it even sweeter.
She brushes my lips with hers, off-centre and more of a swipe than a real kiss. Then she tries again, pressing her lips against mine.
Soft. Sweet. Sophie.
A pause and I hold my breath, afraid to move. Afraid of frightening her off.
Afraid that she might move her lips away from mine.
And she does after a moment; Sophie pulls back for a breath and nudges my nose with hers. Then she tilts her head and tries again.
This time, I grab her by the back of her head and kiss her back.