4. Sophie
Iwince as I sip my champagne, the bubbles tickling my nose.
Dakota chuckles. “You always make that face when you drink.”
I set my glass down. “Can’t help it. I’m still not used to the taste of alcohol.”
My best friend downs all the champagne in her glass and pours more from the bottle. She starts to offer me more, but I wave her off. I’m not even halfway done with my glass and she’s already on her second.
I glance around the dimly lit space of this trendy bar, feeling intensely out of place. Everyone here is flirting, dancing, and guzzling drinks. I feel like a child sitting in the corner of a party for grown-ups.
I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve been out to a place like this. Being a massive nerd my entire life, I didn’t go out much, even when I was old enough to. I would always rather study or read or hang out at home. And being that I was always attending school with people who were older than me, I had a hard time making friends. I was never invited to parties or nights out anyway. Dakota is my one friend who I’ve had for most of my life.
I should be having fun in this lively and crowded bar. Anyone else my age would. But instead, I feel like an alien who has no idea how to fit in.
I tug at the top I’m wearing. Even the clothes I’m wearing don’t feel right.
“You look really pretty, Sophie,” Dakota says.
I take in the kind look in her big brown eyes and the sweetness of her smile. I smile back, even though I want to crawl out of my skin.
“You think so?” I say with a nervous laugh. I smooth a hand over the leather jacket I’m wearing. “Because I feel like an awkward freak.”
Dakota’s perfectly shaped eyebrows crash together. “No way. You look stunning, Sophie. Seriously. I don’t understand how you don’t see it.”
I shrug. “I’ve spent the past handful of years in scrubs and lab coats. And it’s not like I was a fashionista before that. I was an awkward nerdy kid who lived in jeans, yoga pants, and t-shirts. This…” I gesture with my free hand to the low-cut black top, leather jacket, and tight-fitting dark jeans I’m wearing. “Feels kind of like a costume. Like I’m cosplaying as a normal twenty-four-year-old.”
Dakota tilts her head at me. “Sophie. You are a normal twenty-four-year-old,” she says sweetly.
“How many twenty-four-year-olds do you know who have never been to a college party in their life because they were fourteen when they enrolled in university?”
Dakota’s doe eyes shine with sympathy. She reaches across the small table we’re sitting at and grabs my hand in hers.
“You, Sophie Porter, are a genius. A beautiful genius. And an absolute badass.”
When I start to laugh, she gently squeezes my hand.
“I mean it, Soph. You’re incredible. I hate it when you talk yourself down just because you lived life a little differently than some people our age.”
“All people our age,” I say.
Dakota shakes her head like she’s sad and disappointed at what I’m saying.
“So? Do you really want to be like the average twenty-four-year-old? Most people our age are working boring jobs, living with roommates, and getting wasted on their days off. You’re a decade ahead of them in that respect. Don’t ever be ashamed of that, Soph. Be so damn proud.”
My shoulders slump. “At least I’d be normal. People think I’m a freak when I tell them that I went to med school when I was seventeen.”
Dakota sweeps her long, rich brown hair over her shoulder and offers a sad smile.
“I know how lucky I am. So many people would give anything to have the opportunities I’ve had, and I’m so thankful for them. But…” Doubt rattles me from the inside out at what I’m about to say. “But sometimes I wish I could be like everyone else. Because every time I come to a place like this, I’m reminded of just how much I don’t fit in.”
“Hey.” Dakota scoots her chair so she’s sitting next to me and hugs her arms around me. “You fit in perfectly. Always.”
Warmth blooms in my chest at just how much my best friend loves me, weirdness and all. I hug her back.
“You absolute badass,” she says.
I smile despite not feeling like it at all. “Thanks, Dakota. Really.”
She moves over and raises her glass. “A toast to my genius best friend for kicking ass on her first day of work.”
I chuckle as I tap my glass against her and take a careful sip of my drink.
“So. What’s it like fixing up hot hockey players for a living?” Dakota giggles.
I roll my eyes. “Not as fun as you’d think.”
She frowns. “What happened?”
“One of the players thought I was a stripper.”
Dakota’s jaw hits the table. “What?” she screeches, loud enough that the table behind us spins around to look at us. “Soph, are you serious?”
I nod and tell her how Xander Williams thought I was a stripper hired to perform for his birthday while I was examining his injury.
Her delicate face scrunches in disgust. “He did what?”
“Yeah.” I sigh. “Don’t tell anyone though, okay? I don’t want that to get back to my dad. He’ll raise hell and I don’t want people thinking I’m being difficult.”
“But you’re not. Xander was the one being a jerk.” She makes a disgusted noise.
I tap my nails along the stem of the champagne glass. “He got a fractured nose because your brother shoved him into the boards.”
Del Richards is one of the dirtiest players in the league, constantly carrying out cheap shots and instigating fights with other players. I grew up watching him play since I’m best friends with his little sister. He even played for the Bashers years ago, before my dad was head coach. He didn’t stay for long though, leaving for Nashville after not even two years. Dakota told me he was sick of Denver and wanted a change.
Dakota scoffs. “Too bad Del didn’t break it. Maybe next time.” She shakes her head. “I guess with a nickname like the panty dropper, it’s no surprise Xander’s a creep.”
Since Dakota is Del’s little sister, she grew up around hockey too, so she knows about Xander and his reputation.
“I guess you’re right…” I trail off when I see Xander making his way over to our table.
I frown. What is he doing here?
When he reaches our table, I’m instantly annoyed. Not just because he’s here, but because of how ridiculously hot he looks.
I take in the thick scruff along his sharp jaw and cheeks, and the way his dark hair falls in soft waves. He could be the stock photo for “ruggedly handsome man.” Even his bruised nose doesn’t take away from how good-looking he is. It only makes him look rougher in a hot way.
His plush lips curve up in a sheepish smile. “Hey,” he says in a quiet voice.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
“Having some after-game drinks with my teammates. It’s my birthday.” He clears his throat like he’s nervous.
“Happy birthday,” I deadpan.
“Let me take care of your check.”
I frown. “Why?”
He tugs at the collar of the hoodie he’s wearing. “It’s the least I could do…for, um…earlier.”
Dakota scoffs. We both look at her.
“You think buying Sophie a drink will magically erase the fact that you disrespected her?” she says, her sweet voice sharp.
“Dakota, it’s okay?—”
“It’s absolutely not okay,” she says, glaring at Xander.
He huffs out a breath and tugs a hand through his hair. “Look, I was just trying to be nice.”
“Nice?” Dakota lets out a bitter laugh. “Try harder. A lot harder.”
Xander’s broad shoulders slump. Shame flashes through his hazel eyes as he looks at me.
For a second, I’m thrown off. Earlier tonight when he apologized to me, I thought it was because he didn’t want to get in trouble with my dad. But there’s a rawness in his eyes I can see now that we’re standing so close…like he genuinely regrets upsetting me.
“I shouldn’t have come over. I’m sorry, Dr. Porter.”
He walks off before I can say anything.
“God, can you believe that guy?” Dakota mutters.
I fiddle with my champagne glass, still thrown off. “Yeah, that was weird.”
We finish our drinks, pay the bill, put on our coats, and weave our way through the crowd to the entrance.
The sidewalk outside of the bar is crowded, despite the sub-zero February temperature. But this is a popular spot in the city. It’s always overrun with people.
I stand off to the side with Dakota and hug her. “Thanks so much for celebrating with me.”
“Always.” She smiles, then yawns. “Wow, I can’t stay up like I used to. This elementary school teacher life is hardcore.”
I laugh and we promise to meet up again next week. Dakota pulls up the rideshare app on her phone and I wait with her until the car arrives. A minute later, a gray car pulls up, I hug her, and she hops in. When she drives away, I start to walk to where my car is parked, just outside of the bar we were at, but then I hear someone behind me call my name.
“Sophie?”
When I spin around, I freeze. Because there’s my ex, Ethan, standing a few feet from me.