14. Evan
Chapter 14
Evan
T he distance from my parked truck to the front door of Sophie's apartment building seems like a thousand miles.
Every step I’ve taken in that direction seems to prove that. Trying to work up the courage to actually go inside—or at least text her—feels like an impossible task, somehow.
“Good job, Daniels," I mutter, combing a hand through my hair for the hundredth time. "Just standing here like a stalker. Not creepy at all."
A couple walking their dog gives me a wide berth, probably wondering why there's a man having a mental breakdown on their sidewalk.
My phone buzzes.
Julia: Did you fix it yet?
I type back: Working on it.
Julia: Define 'working on it.'
Me: Currently standing outside her building questioning my life choices.
Julia: I swear to God, E…
Before she can finish that thought, I quickly type: Can we talk later? Kind of in the middle of something.
Julia: Fine. But Natalia wants to know what time she’s coming back here tomorrow since she's staying with me for the weekend.
Right. The holiday weekend. The one I'd completely forgotten about in my panic over fixing things with Sophie.
Whenever she wants , I text back. Just...let me handle this first.
Julia: Handle what? Standing menacingly outside Sophie's building?
Sometimes I really hate how well my sister knows me.
Taking a deep breath, I pull up my messages with Sophie. Her last text: Keep it . Seems I read this one wrong , still makes my chest hurt.
Because she didn't read it wrong. If anything, she's the only one who's been reading this right from the start.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I type: Can we talk?
Send.
I'm outside your building.
Send.
Fuck. Now what the hell do I do?
I'm about to give up and retreat to my truck when her response comes through.
Come up. 4B. Fair warning: I'm in pajamas and there's ice cream involved.
Something warm unfolds in my chest. Because of course she's stress-eating ice cream. Of course she's in pajamas. Of course she's still...Sophie.
As long as you’ve got caramel sauce , I text back, remembering that night in my kitchen.
Her response is immediate. Very funny. Door code is 3545.
Okay. That’s a good sign. I can do this.
I take the stairs because the elevator feels too confined for my current anxiety level. By the time I reach 4B, I'm slightly out of breath and seriously questioning every life choice that led me here.
But then the door opens, and...and fuck me…hard.
She's wearing my practice shirt. The one that went "missing" from my locker all that time ago. It's paired with flannel pants covered in tiny hockey pucks, and her hair is piled on top of her head in what might generously be called a bun. Her long dark lashes blink slowly up at me.
She's never looked more beautiful.
"Hi," she says softly.
"Hi." Real eloquent, Daniels. "I, uh...brought your pen."
She glances at my empty hands. "No, you didn't."
"No, I didn't." I straighten my shoulders, clearing my throat. "I actually just...needed to see you. But I do have your pen. And I’ll definitely get it back to you." I feel my heart beating hard and attempt to give myself a little silent pep talk. You can do this.
Something flashes in her eyes. Hope maybe? And a tinge of wariness. Fair enough.
"Come in," she says finally, stepping back. "But I warn you, I'm in the middle of a horror movie marathon and I'm not turning it off."
"Wouldn't dream of asking you to." I follow her inside, trying not to notice that the place is kind of a wreck. "Though I do question your taste in films."
"Says the man who thinks Die Hard is a Christmas movie."
"It takes place at Christmas!”’
"That's not…" She stops, shaking her head. "No. We're not having this argument again. Sit. Watch people make bad decisions in dark houses with me."
I settle onto her couch, hyper-aware of how small the space is. How close she is.
How much I want to pull her into my arms and apologize for being an idiot.
"So," she says, curling up at the other end of the couch, "about today..."
"I'm sorry." The words burst out before she can finish. "I was an ass. You didn't deserve that."
She studies me for a moment. "No, I didn't."
"Clark just...he brings out the worst in me."
"I noticed." She pulls her knees up to her chest, making herself smaller. "Want to tell me why?"
Yes. No. Maybe.
"It's complicated."
"Isn't everything?" She gives me a small smile. "But maybe we could start with why you're really here?"
I look at her—really look at her—sitting there in my stolen shirt, waiting patiently for me to find the right words. Like she always does.
"I'm here because..." I take a deep breath. "Because you see me. Not the Ice Man or the divorced dad or the cautionary tale. And it’s…a lot.”
"A lot,” she echoes. “And that scares you?"
“Fucking terrifies me."
She nods slowly. "Is that why you pushed me away today? Because I was seeing too much?"
"Something like that." I lean back, staring at her ceiling. "The last time I let someone see me, really see me..."
"It didn't end well."
"That's an understatement."
We sit in silence for a moment, the only sound coming from her TV where someone is definitely about to make a terrible decision by going into a dark basement alone.
"For what it's worth," she says finally, "I'm not trying to dig up your past. I just...I care about you. About why certain things still haunt you."
The simple honesty in her voice makes my chest tight.
"I know." I look at her again. "That's what makes you dangerous."
"Me?" She laughs softly. "I'm about as dangerous as a baby penguin."
"A baby penguin who makes my daughter laugh hysterically and somehow got my sister to give her my baby pictures."
"In my defense, Julia offered those freely."
"Of course she did." I can't help my smile. "My family loves you, you know."
Something soft crosses her face. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." I shift slightly closer. "And I..."
A blood-curdling scream from the TV makes us both jump.
"Sorry!" Sophie grabs the remote. "I can turn it…”
"Leave it. Unless you're scared?" I give her a teasing grin.
"Please." She rolls her eyes. "I've seen this one like twelve times. Nothing scary about—HOLY SHIT!"
Another jump scare sends her practical into my lap, her hand clutching my arm.
"Not scared, huh?" I try to keep my voice steady, but having her this close is...distracting.
"Shut up." She starts to pull away, but I catch her hand.
“No,” I assert. “I want you right here next to me.”
Her breath catches. "Evan..."
“Sophie,” I warn.
She settles against me slowly, like she's afraid I might spook. "This doesn't fix everything, you know. You’re not off the hook yet."
"I know." I wrap an arm around her, drawing her closer. "But it's a start."
She nods against my chest, and something tight in my chest loosens.
We watch the movie in comfortable silence for a while, though I'm barely paying attention to the plot. I'm too focused on how perfectly she fits against me, how her fingers are absently tracing patterns on my arm, how she smells like vanilla and roses.
Another jump scare makes her burrow closer, and this time when she looks up at me, I can't help myself.
I kiss her.
She makes a soft sound against my mouth, her hands coming up to tangle in my shirt, and suddenly the movie is completely forgotten. All I can focus on is Sophie—the taste of her lips, the feel of her pressed against me, the way she sighs when I thread my fingers through her hair.
"Evan," she breathes as I pepper kisses toward her collarbone.
"Hmm?"
"Are we...is this..."
"Too fast?" I pull back slightly, searching her face.
"No, I just..." She bites her lip. "I don't want to be something you regret in the morning."
"Sophie." I cup her face in my hands. "The only thing I regret is pushing you away today."
This time she kisses me, and it's like everything slots into place. Like all the walls I've built start to crumble under the weight of her touch, her trust, her…
I deepen the kiss, my tongue exploring her mouth as she moans softly. Her hands are in my hair, pulling me closer, and I can feel her heart racing against mine. I slide my hands down her back, cupping her ass and pulling her against me. She moans as she feels my hardness, but she doesn't pull away. Instead, she grinds against me, driving me crazy with need.
"Sophie," I murmur against her lips. "I want you."
She looks at me, her eyes dark with want. "I want you too, Evan."
I don't need any more encouragement. I lift her onto my lap, her legs straddling me as I kiss her deeply. She rocks against me, her breath coming in short gasps as I lavish kisses down her neck, my hands exploring her body.
I slip my hands under her shirt, feeling her smooth skin, her racing heartbeat. I cup her breasts, my thumbs brushing over her peaked nipples through the thin fabric of her bra. She moans softly, arching into my touch.
"More," she whispers. "Please, Evan..."
I pull at the waistband of her pajama bottoms, sliding my hand inside. She's so wet. So warm. So ready for me.
She’s even more ready as I find her clit, circling it gently with my fingers. She gasps, her hips bucking against my hand.
"Oh God," she moans. "That feels so good..."
I kiss her again, swallowing her moans as I continue to stroke her. She's so responsive, so eager. I can feel her getting closer, her body tensing, her breath coming in short gasps.
But I want more. I want to taste her, to feel her come apart under my tongue.
I lift her off my lap, laying her down on the couch. She looks up at me, her eyes wide with anticipation.
I kneel between her legs, sliding her pajama pants and panties down her smooth legs. She's completely bare to me below the waist, and the sight of the silky dark curls between her thighs makes my already rock-hard cock throb with need.
I lean down, trailing kisses up her inner thigh. When she shivers, her breath hitching as I get closer to her center, I inhale the smell of her arousal.
The scent is sweet. Slightly salty. And fully fucking intoxicating. And I can't wait any longer.
I bury my face between her legs, my tongue finding her clit. Sophie’s hips rock against my mouth, and in return, I lick and suck, my fingers sliding inside her as she moans and writhes beneath me.
"Evan," she gasps. "Oh God, Evan..."
I look up at her, her face flushed, her eyes slowly closing. She's so beautiful, so open, so trusting. I want to give her everything, to make her feel as good as she makes me feel.
I redouble my efforts, my tongue and fingers working in tandem to drive her wild. She's so near the edge, I can feel it.
Her body tenses, her breath comes in short gasps, and then…
"Evan!" she cries out, her body convulsing as she comes hard against my mouth. I ride out her orgasm, my fingers and tongue drawing out every last wave of pleasure.
When she finally comes down, she looks at me, her eyes soft and sated. "That was...wow," she breathes.
I grin, wiping my mouth on the back of my hand. "Glad you think so. I’m afraid I’m a bit out of practice."
“Well, I can’t imagine how good it would be if you had been practicing recently. I don’t know if I could handle it.”
She kisses me, and everything feels right in the world. Like all the walls I've built start to crumble under the weight of her touch, her trust, her stunning body.
Sophie looks at me with a mischievous glint in her eye. "Well, let's see if I can return the favor," she purrs. She pushes me gently onto my back and begins trailing kisses down my chest. I relax as her fingers work at my belt buckle.
Sophie takes her time, her lips and hands exploring every inch of newly exposed skin. When she finally frees my aching cock, she looks up at me through her lashes. "Is this okay?" she asks softly.
I can only nod, not trusting my voice. She smiles and lowers her head, her tongue darting out to taste me. I groan at the sensation, my hips bucking involuntarily. Sophie places a steadying hand on my thigh as she takes me into her mouth.
The wet heat of her mouth engulfs me and I let out a low moan. Sophie takes her time, swirling her tongue around the head before slowly sliding down my shaft. The sensation is incredible: soft and slick and so warm. It's been years since anyone has done this for me, and the pleasure is almost overwhelming.
Sophie's hands caress my thighs as she works me with her mouth. She alternates between long, slow strokes and focusing on just the tip, her tongue teasing the sensitive underside. My hips twitch involuntarily and she hums in approval, the vibrations sending shivers through me.
I thread my fingers gently through her hair, not guiding, just needing to touch her. She looks up at me through her lashes, her eyes dark with desire, and the sight nearly undoes me.
Sophie takes me deeper, her tongue swirling around the head of my cock as she slowly bobs up and down.
She sets a leisurely pace, savoring every inch. Her hand works in tandem with her mouth, stroking what she can't fit. I'm lost in the sensations, the softness of her lips, the occasional graze of teeth that sends shivers through me.
When she pulls back to catch her breath, she looks up at me. "You taste so good," she murmurs before diving back in. This time she takes me even deeper, relaxing her throat to accommodate every inch of me.
Her lips slide down my shaft once more, taking me impossibly deep. I let out a shuddering breath as she swallows around me, her throat constricting in the most exquisite way. She holds me there for a long moment before slowly pulling back, her tongue tracing every vein and ridge.
"Sophie," I groan, fighting to keep my hips still. "I’m so close."
She hums in response, the vibrations sending sparks of pleasure through me. Her hand works in tandem with her mouth, twisting gently as she bobs her head. The dual sensations are driving me wild.
I watch in awe as she takes me in again and again, her cheeks hollowing as she sucks. The sight of my cock disappearing between her soft lips is mesmerizing. Her eyes flutter closed in concentration and I'm struck by how beautiful she looks like this.
When I can’t stand it a second more, I come in her mouth with so much force I don’t know if she’ll be able to take it all. But she does, sucking every last drop out of me and swallowing hard.
She smiles up at me just as my phone blares Julia's ringtone.
"What?” I answer. I love her but, for the love of God, could she quit bugging me?
"Well hello to you too, sunshine!" Julia's voice is way too cheerful. "Quick question: does Natalia still hate mushrooms? I'm meal-planning for the weekend."
I look at Sophie, who can hear the conversation and is trying not to laugh at my expression.
"That's what couldn't wait? Mushroom preferences?"
"Oh, I'm sorry, am I interrupting something?"
"Yes."
"Good! That means you're not still standing outside like a creeper." I can hear her grin. "Tell Sophie hi from me!"
She hangs up before I can respond.
"Everything okay?" Sophie asks, repositioning her clothes, even when her barely suppressed smile suggests she heard every word.
"Fine. Just my sister being..."
"Your sister?"
"Yeah." I slide a hand through my unruly hair. "I should probably let you get to bed. It's late, and…"
"Stay." She catches my hand. "Just...for a little while? We can finish the movie?"
I look at her—cheeks flushed, hair messed up from my hands, still wearing my damn practice shirt—and I’m happy she wants me to stay for a while longer.
"One more movie," I agree. "But I'm picking the next one. Something without basement-dwelling demons."
"Deal." She settles back against me. "Though I should warn you, the next one has hockey masks..."
"Of course it does."
But as she curls into my side, chattering about horror tropes, I realize something: I'm not scared anymore.
Well, maybe a little. But not of this. Not of her.
Because Sophie Bennett might be dangerous to my carefully constructed walls, but maybe that's not such a bad thing.
Maybe some walls need to come down.
My phone buzzes.
Julia: For the record, she still hates mushrooms. But that was never really the question, was it?
I look down at Sophie, who's already half asleep against my chest, and type back: No. It wasn't.
Because some questions answer themselves.
Like why I'm sitting here watching terrible horror movies instead of running away.
Like why, for the first time in years, I'm not afraid of letting someone in.
Even if that someone is a reporter with a penguin onesie hanging on her bedroom door (I can see it from here, and we're definitely discussing that later) and extremely questionable taste in movies.