Chapter 9 #2
Riddle me this, but I love hearing her come in the door, knowing this is where she lives, at least for a while.
My mind flashes back briefly to Sophie on my lap last night and my three a.m. minor freak out over whether I may or may not be feeling some kind of way about my best friend.
I’m just self-aware enough to admit the answer to that is a solid maybe, but not quite ready to delve into the ramifications of that particular revelation.
“Ty, you home?” Her voice is followed by a series of thuds as she drops what I’m sure are many, many bags, and two loud clunks that are, no doubt, her boots hitting the floor wherever they land after she flings them off, and I know I’m about to have a trail of her stuff in my entry way for the foreseeable future.
Proof of Sophie.
I love it so fucking much.
“Kitchen,” I call, getting up from my seat to check the sauce and flick the burner on under the pot of water sitting on the stove.
“Oh my god, you’re my hero.”
I turn from the stove to see Sophie standing in the kitchen doorway wearing jeans and a bright green sweater I know she borrowed from Maya this morning, one wrist full of bangles and her hair a mass of curls tumbling down her back.
My grin returns full force along with a gust of warmth in my chest. “I did many, many heroic things today, so you’re going to have to be more specific. ”
She rolls her eyes, but her lips tip up in a smile. “I’m talking about the spaghetti and meatballs on the stove. That’s what it is right? Please say that’s what it is because I deserve spaghetti and meatballs after this day.”
Setting the spoon down, I lean my elbows on the counter.
“Sal, I’ve known you for twenty-six years.
If you think I wouldn’t make your comfort meal when you had to wade through a flood in your house before eight in the morning and then work a full day, I’ll be offended because that means you don’t know me at all. ”
“Fuck, you’re my favorite human,” she says, collapsing into a stool.
“Should I ask you what’s going on with the house?
I feel like I should ask you because I’m a strong, independent woman who can definitely deal with home repairs, but fuck, I hate home repairs.
I hate everything that has to do with home improvement unless I’m improving it by painting my walls bright colors or finding fun art or rearranging the living room furniture again to find the optimal TV watching configuration. Everything else bores me to tears.”
Maybe it should surprise me how much I want to help her. How much I want to take this entire home renovation off Sophie’s shoulders. To tell her she doesn’t have to even think about it if she doesn’t want to. But somehow, it doesn’t. And luckily, I can do exactly that.
Reaching across the island, I flick her bracelets and link my finger with hers.
“I’ve got you, Sal. I kill at an offseason project, and I think this is going to be my favorite one yet.
Home renovation details will be dispensed to you on a need-to-know basis, and right now, you don’t need to know.
Tonight, all you need to do is eat the extremely excellent spaghetti and meatballs I made, followed by the peanut butter cup ice cream in the freezer, all while watching a movie. I’m thinking My Best Friend’s Wedding.”
Sophie wrinkles her nose, just like I knew she would.
“You know how I feel about that movie. It’s not a rom-com, Ty.
It just fucking isn’t. She tries to break up a happy couple, only to end up alone, watching her best friend—who she’s in love with—marry someone else.
It’s subversive to the genre, not to mention depressing as fuck.
I hate it and I’m definitely not watching it tonight. ”
I chuckle at her long-established hatred for this particular movie, standing and walking around the island to drop a kiss on her head.
The scent of her strawberry shampoo fills my senses, and I get a brief moment of what the fuck as my stomach swoops.
Trying to collect myself before Sophie realizes exactly where my head went, I return to my side of the island.
“Of course we’re not watching My Best Friend’s Wedding.
I just like listening to you rail about the injustice of Jules ending up alone. ”
Sophie sniffs, crossing her arms and giving me an epic side-eye. “You’re an asshole.”
I grin and shrug. “Maybe, but for the time being, you live with me, and this asshole made you dinner and is going to let you pick the movie even though it’s technically my turn.”
“It’s the least you can do,” she grumbles, and I laugh because Sophie is almost always sunshine, so when grumpy Soph comes out to play it’s mostly hilarious. “We’re watching She’s All That.”
“Fuck yes!” I fist pump the air. “The DVD has a making of documentary with behind-the-scenes footage. Excellent choice.”
“I know,” Sophie says smugly, standing from her chair.
“But before we do anything, I need to change because this day has been an endless mess of fuckery, and no way am I watching a movie without pajamas.” Then she groans, collapsing back onto her stool.
“Fuck, I forgot I wore the pajamas I had here last night and all my clothes are waterlogged. I meant to stop somewhere for necessities on the way back and totally forgot.” She folds her arms over the island and drops her head on her forearms, her hair spilling over the light stone of the island. “I hate this day.”
“Let’s go,” I order, taking her hand and tugging gently until she lifts her head.
“Go where?”
“Upstairs. So you can change.”
Her look gives Are you stupid or just an idiot? and I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing because I prefer my balls right where they are. “What part of I don’t have any clothes here don’t you understand?”
Thrilled with her response, I pull her up off the stool and grab her hand, leading her to the stairs, excited as fuck for her to see what’s waiting at the top.