Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
SOPHIE
At the sound of my phone beeping, I dash out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel, hair dripping down my back and coffee sloshing dangerously close to the top of the mug I’m holding in one hand.
Snatching the phone off my bed, I slide down until I’m sitting on the floor, my back against the bed frame, and click on the message, knowing whatever it is will be just the distraction I’m looking for.
RenegadeRush
What’s the most random fact you know?
ChaosQueen
Research shows that when first meeting a stranger, all it takes is a tenth of a second to form an impression of them and that impression generally doesn’t change with longer exposures.
RenegadeRush
Okay that’s…really random.
ChaosQueen
It’s not random if you’re in my head.
RenegadeRush
Let’s say I’m not in your head. What context would I need to properly understand that fact?
Laughing at the response that is so completely him, I feel the knots in my stomach unclench enough to take the full breath that has alluded me since I shot awake at four this morning after a night of sweaty anxiety dreams. Anxiety is not an emotion I have often—especially the kind that wakes me up in what basically amounts to the middle of the night—and I have what feels like a weird-ass hangover, but today is not a day for a messy brain.
Today I need to be all the way on my game.
ChaosQueen
I have kind of a big day today.
RenegadeRush
A big day professionally? Personally? Did aliens invade Earth overnight to start looking for human volunteers to return to their home planet and you want to be one of them? I haven’t had a chance to read the news yet.
Snorting out a laugh, I take a long sip of the coffee I made myself earlier, which means it pretty much sucks, but at least it’s caffeinated, and caffeinated is good.
I take one more deep breath, and my stomach unknots the rest of the way.
Bless this guy because he, along with this subpar caffeine, is exactly what I need right now.
ChaosQueen
I haven’t checked the news either so if the aliens invaded, I don’t know about it yet. Although, I wouldn’t not volunteer. Space is cool.
RenegadeRush
So fucking cool. But if it’s not aliens, what’s going on in your day today?
I consider the question. It edges a little close to too personal for the guy on the internet, but I haven’t told anyone in my regular life about the MasterLab opportunity yet.
I figured I would wait until after the first interview in case it turned out to be a bust, but keeping secrets is not where I thrive.
I’m a decision by committee, tell your people everything kind of girl, so keeping the interview to myself feels absolutely antithetical to my entire personality.
I don’t know this stranger in real life, and it’s likely I never will, so, I figure, what the hell?
ChaosQueen
I have a job interview. A really big one.
RenegadeRush
You didn’t tell me you were looking for a new job.
ChaosQueen
I’m not. I mean, I wasn’t. The job found me. I was sort of asked to interview for it.
RenegadeRush
Badass. That’s a good thing, right?
ChaosQueen
A really good thing. It’s a big deal. A huge deal, actually.
RenegadeRush
Ah, I see.
So the fun fact about first impressions wasn’t a fact so much as it was…
ChaosQueen
The thing currently freaking me the fuck out.
I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but I’m less buttoned-up professional and more quirky chaos demon. I can’t be anything except for what I am, even for one-tenth of a second. The wild curls kind of give it away. They will not be tamed.
RenegadeRush
I’ve never seen your curls, but I already know you shouldn’t ever tame them. For anyone or anything. Not even for one-tenth of a second.
Curly girls are the best girls.
Just be you. I think who you are is pretty excellent.
Reading his last message over and over again, I feel the rest of my nerves ebb away, a low hum of excitement taking their place. I don’t know what it is about this guy, but somehow, he knew exactly what it was that I needed to hear.
And goddammit, curly girls are the best girls.
ChaosQueen
You don’t even know me.
RenegadeRush
False, Chaos. Entirely false.
The dots start to bounce again immediately, telling me he’s still typing.
And they just keep bouncing. He types for what feels like forever.
He types for so long my brain has time to reengage, and my stomach knots up again as I think about all the weird and random facts I could accidentally let loose during this interview.
Like how I think it’s fascinating that one million Earths can fit inside the sun and that flamingos can only eat when their heads are upside down.
I’m almost positive Luke Davis won’t be as intrigued as I am by either of those things, but I suddenly seem to have forgotten everything I’ve ever known about STEM, the only information residing in my brain the kind that will make me seem less STEM genius and more How is it possible they let this woman engage with the general public?
My palms are starting to sweat and I’m sure my hair is frizzing beyond all reason and I’m considering cancelling the interview entirely on account of me being an acquired taste that Luke Davis has yet to acquire.
But then my phone buzzes in my hand, and when I look down, every other thought falls from my head as I read football guy’s words.
RenegadeRush
I know you’re an instant gratification kind of girl, which means a job interview where you don’t know what the interviewer is thinking and where there might be multiple rounds and you might not know anything for days or weeks is your version of hell.
I know you have a brilliant and fascinating brain and you know something about everything, which is incredibly cool.
I know you’re not a morning person and probably have a half-finished cup of coffee in your hand right now that you’re going to microwave at least twice before the morning is over because you hate when your coffee is even a little bit cold.
I know you’re a good listener and you seem to always know what to say.
I know you’re incredibly intuitive, and somehow you know what’s going on in my head even though we only communicate with words on a screen.
I know you care deeply about your family and you’re a very good friend, and the people in your life are incredibly lucky to have you.
I know I feel lucky to have you even though I’ve never seen your face or heard your voice.
I do know you, Chaos, and I know if this job is something you want, you are going to absolutely kick ass at this interview.
I hope you’ll tell me about it when it’s over.
Oh, holy fuck.
I read his words over and over again until my eyes burn and my heart pounds in my chest. It shouldn’t be possible that this man who I only know through a dating app on my phone has me so accurately pegged, but the evidence is right there in text bubbles so long I have to scroll to see the full message because it doesn’t even fit on the screen.
And for reasons I can’t even begin to parse right now, it feels good to be known by him.
I read the message one more time and feel anxious Sophie disappear and badass Sophie enter the chat. Taking another sip of my coffee, I make a face, wishing I was closer to the kitchen, because this coffee isn’t nearly hot enough.
At that thought, one that so clearly echoes part of football guy’s message, I laugh right out loud, and suddenly, I feel like I could run through a wall.
RenegadeRush
Was that too much? I may have gotten a little carried away thinking about all the ways you’re awesome. Some of those might have been inside thoughts.
Grinning at the screen, I put down my mug to respond.
ChaosQueen
Way too much. It’s like you’re obsessed with me or something.
RenegadeRush
Oh, thank god. I thought maybe you read that message and blocked me for being a weirdo.
ChaosQueen
The only way I would block you is if you sent me pictures of your feet. That’s a deal breaker.
RenegadeRush
Are you sure about that? I have really good feet.
ChaosQueen
I will…never be the judge of that. I’ve seen enough foot pictures to last a lifetime.
RenegadeRush
You got another one?
ChaosQueen
Nope, that one single one was more than enough.
RenegadeRush
Good. For a second I thought maybe you were talking to other people on this app, and I’m not so sure I like the idea of that.
I roll my eyes at that last message because honestly, nothing turns me off faster than a man telling me what I can and can’t do.
Although, I guess that’s not entirely true, I think, my brain flashing back to Tyler taking control of the renovations on my house and bursting into my office last week ordering me to eat lunch.
I think maybe I hate it unless it’s Tyler telling me what to do, and my brain is a serious, disloyal bitch because it immediately considers all the other times and places Tyler could tell me what to do.
Like in this bed. Or in his bed. Or in the shower.
The kitchen maybe. Literally any-fucking-where as long as his hands are on me when he does it.
And fuck.
No.
No fantasizing about those big, strong, quarterback hands and what they could do and how they could make me feel.
Those are middle of the night when I can have some alone time with my vibrator thoughts. Not potentially the biggest day of my career thoughts.
And just like that, the thought of the interview has my stomach in knots again.
This is really not my day.
I’m mid-eyeroll at myself and my traitorous brain when I hear Tyler moving around downstairs, and suddenly, I don’t want to be sitting on the floor anymore, stewing about this interview alone.
I want to be downstairs, right where Tyler is, letting him make me breakfast and make me laugh before I go and conquer this day.
And then, when the interview is over, I want to come home and tell him about it—good or bad.
I shoot up from the floor and toss my phone onto the bed, and I’m halfway to the door before I realize I’m still wearing a towel.
“Clothes, Sophie. Put on some fucking clothes,” I mutter, dropping my towel where I stand and heading for the dresser.
I don’t see the door handle turning until it’s too late.