9. Sophie
CHAPTER 9
SOPHIE
T he dark little sports bar was a relief. It was third on our pub crawl, me and the girls, and the first we could find a place to sit down. The first I could halfway hear myself think.
“I’ll get the first round.”
Jen cupped her ear. “What?” She shook her head like a swimmer fresh from the pool. “My ears are still ringing from that last place.”
“That bachelorette party?” Kate rolled her eyes. “I get it. You’re happy. But you’ve got to scream? That one chick had lungs like an air horn.” She mimed honking one. Jen slapped her hand.
“I need more tequila. Or, no, get us beers. If I don’t slow down, I’ll be under the table.”
I headed up to the bar to order our beers. Tonight, we were celebrating a month on the job. We’d all trained together, and now we were here — on the job, really doing it, and it was great. And for me, tonight was a double celebration: I’d found my own place, and I’d be moving next weekend. Living with Mom was nice, with the free home-cooked breakfasts, but this felt like a big step. A new stage of life. Maybe it was the tequila, but I couldn’t stop laughing, like it was only now hitting me this was all real.
“Two beers,” I told the bartender. “And, could I get a water?”
“Still or sparkling?”
I laughed again. “Sparkling.” Tonight did feel sparkling, and not just because the sky was clear, not just from the moonlight on the fresh snow. I’d hit a milestone tonight, and my friends were here with me, and what could be better than all of that?”
“I’ll bring your drinks to your table,” the bartender said. I smiled and skipped back, light on my feet.
“No drinks?” said Jen.
“He’s bringing them over.”
“Kate was just telling me, you know those air horns? She went on a call to this telemarketing… studio? What do you call that, where they keep all the spammers?”
I laughed. “I don’t know. A roach motel?”
Jen stared for a moment, then she got it and hooted. Kate smacked her arm.
“You’re such a lightweight.”
Our drinks came then, and I gave Jen my water. I sipped her beer slowly, already buzzed.
“ Anyway ,” Kate said, “we got a call to this… roach motel… and this one telemarketer took off her headset, and the bud was all bloody. Like, covered in blood. Someone blew an air horn and ruptured her eardrum, and she sat there all day and kept making calls.”
“Someone she called?”
Kate gulped beer. “Yep. Honked it right in her ear, and she had the volume up.”
“Didn’t it hurt, though? She just kept on calling?” Jen rubbed her own ear. “I think mine’s bust, too.”
“No blood,” I said, leaning to check. “We had one the other night, a bug in his ear. Miles flushed it out with warm olive oil.”
Jen shuddered. “I hate bugs. We had one with maggots…” She gagged, sipped more water, and shook her head. “You know what? I’m too drunk to think about bugs. Let’s talk about whatzisname.”
“She just said it. Miles.”
I choked on my beer. “What about Miles?”
“Is he still a dick?” Jen jerked upright. “ Oh! Did I tell you, my shift supervisor— Not Shelley. She’s nice. But the other one. Janice. She did one of her speeches yesterday morning, and I swear she said ‘honestly’ twelve entire times. Honestly , it’s not that hard. Honestly , shut up!”
“At least she’s not sniffing all day,” said Kate. “My partner called in three days last week, some killer flu she picked up from her kid. I got stuck with this part-timer they call Grandma Sniff. She never stops sniffing. Oh, my God. Sniff. Sniff. Sniff.”
Jen and I sniffed. Kate showed us her finger. She narrowed her eyes at me, all boozy focus.
“You never answered Jen’s question. Is Miles still a dick?”
I laughed. “He was never— Holy crap.”
“What?”
I could hardly believe it, but Miles was here , over by the doorway, loosening his coat. He was talking to a thin man with messy blond hair.
“That’s him,” I hissed.
Kate lit up. “Which one? The blond?”
“No, no, the other one.”
Jen blinked. “He’s the hot one?”
“I wouldn’t say that. ”
“I would,” said Kate. “He looks like that guy, y’know, from that show. That dating show where they’re all on that island?”
I knew who she meant, but I pretended I didn’t. I didn’t want to admit, yeah, Miles was hot. It felt somehow wrong to say it out loud, with him in the room no less, out with his friend.
“Go get him,” said Kate.
“What? No way.”
“No, do it.” Jen leaned on me. “And bring his friend too. I’ve been single forever, and those guys, hoo- ee! ”
“Jesus, shut up!” I nudged her hard in the ribs. She only laughed louder.
“Come on, go get him. We need to see for ourselves. And if he is a dick, we’ll defend you, okay? We’ll tell him, you can’t be a jerk to our Sophie. Hey, Miles!” She waved. “ Miles! ”
I shoved her into the corner and ducked down, myself. When I chanced a glance up, Miles had half-turned. He frowned and said something, and his friend shrugged. They both surveyed the small room, but they didn’t spot us.
“I can’t believe you,” I hissed.
“But you’ll go get him, right?” Kate smirked. “We’ll behave, but you know this is fate.”
I glanced over at Miles again. His ears were red from the cold. It felt strange to see him here, out of context.
“I’ll get him,” I said. “But you have to behave. Just a quick hi, and that’s it. Promise?”
Jen yelled “I promise,” so loud I jumped. Kate promised too, but I didn’t believe her. I didn’t trust her tone, or her too-earnest smile. Still, I thought, what was the worst she could do? Make me look silly? I did that plenty all by myself.
I headed back to the bar, where Miles had sat with his friend. He coughed when he saw me.
“Reeves? That you?”
“Hey, Miles,” I said. “This your usual place?”
“Sort of. Sometimes. What are you doing here?”
I pointed back at our table. “Those are my friends. We’re out celebrating. They, uh… You want to stop by and say hi?”
“I don’t think so,” said Miles. “I don’t even know them.”
“Go on,” said his friend. “You never meet anyone. By the way, hi. I’m Brian.” He stuck out his hand, and I gave it a shake.
“I’m Sophie.”
“I know. Good to finally meet you.”
I shot Miles a startled look. His friend knew my name?
“I wasn’t—” Miles started, but Brian waved him off.
“Don’t worry. He hasn’t said anything bad.”
I wasn’t sure I believed that, but I let it go anyway. I’d whined up and down about Miles to my friends, at least in those first weeks, before we found our groove. I could hardly fault him for something I’d done myself.
“Go meet her friends.” Brian gave Miles a push. “I’ve got the game here. I’ll be okay.”
“Two minutes,” said Miles. He pushed back from the bar. “Were you yelling my name before, when we came in?”
“Not me. My friend. She’s drunk, so be nice.”
Miles grunted. I led the way back to our table. Jen popped up right away, all flushed with liquor.
“I’m Jen. Hi. You’re cute.”
Kate spluttered laughter, spraying beer on the table. She pointed at Miles. “Look at his face!”
“Ignore them,” I said. “They’ve had a few drinks.”
“But, look at him.” Kate pulled a face. “He looks like he just sucked a whole, entire lemon. Come on, life is good. Turn that frown upside-down.”
Miles flashed an awkward smile. Kate and Jen burst out laughing. I shot them a warning look, okay, enough .
Jen squinted at Miles. “He doesn’t seem that bad.”
“Well, let’s find out.” Kate sat up straighter. “You been treating our Sophie good?”
“I’d say so,” said Miles.
“And is it true you, uh… checking my notes…” Kate squinted at an imaginary notepad. “Is it true you and Sophie had a fight so loud, you got yourselves tossed out of the ambulance bay?”
I flapped my hands, outraged. “I never said that!”
“It was just me,” said Miles, and he winked at Kate. “I got kicked out, but Sophie has manners.”
“Ooh, he’s a gentleman, taking the heat!” Kate raised her beer, and she and Jen clinked to him. I covered my face.
“Did I say they’re my friends? I swear we just met.” I took Miles by the arm and led him away, Jen’s tipsy laughter loud in our ears. Kate yelled something after us that sounded a lot like nice ass , but I ignored it and Miles did the same. We wound up by the window under the bar sign, bathed head and shoulders in bright neon pink. The way Miles smiled down at me made me warm inside.
“Sorry,” I said. “They’ve been drinking tequila.”
Miles laughed, a deep rumble. “And how about you?”
“I’ve had a drink or two, but I’ve been doing half water. I’ve got a breakfast date first thing tomorrow.”
Miles raised a brow. “A breakfast date, huh?”
“Yeah, with my mom. It’s our tradition. We get pancakes, then pedicures, then we watch bad TV.”
“Sounds hot.”
“Oh, yeah.” I chuckled, then sobered. “Listen, I’m sorry about that, with my friends. Obviously I was venting, before we made up.”
Miles winked. “That’s okay. I vented to Brian.”
I gasped. “You what? What did you say?”
Miles tilted his head, pretending to think. “I told him, let’s see… you heat fish in the microwave. You kick off your stinky boots right in the bus. You use barf bags for lunch bags. You?—”
I smacked him. “Stop!”
“You drink coffee all night. You have coffee breath.”
“ You drink coffee all night. You have coffee breath.”
We both broke up laughing. Miles shook his head. “I never said any of that, except maybe the coffee breath. And we’ve established we’re both guilty of that.” His smile had gone crooked, almost uncertain, like he was worried I’d be angry for real. I fought the strange urge to reach up and touch him, stroke his hair, maybe. Caress his cheek.
“You couldn’t have told Brian anything that bad,” I said. “He seemed happy to meet me, not horrified.”
“He’s a good guy. He— Uh-oh. Incoming.”
I turned just in time to stop Jen from tripping. She swayed, happy-drunk, and tugged on my sleeve.
“We’re going to the Brewery. You coming, or what?”
“Hold on a minute.” I turned back to Miles.
“It’s all right,” he said. “Girls’ night, right?”
“I’ll see you at work, then. I’ll bring you some gum.”
“Gum?”
“For your coffee breath.” I smirked, and Miles groaned. Kate helped Jen out the door. I was about to go after them when a weight hit my back, an unsteady partier turned loose from the bar. He tried to grab me for balance and shoved me instead, and I went staggering straight into Miles.
“Steady. I’ve got you.” He caught me in his arms. The crowd surged around us, the drunk and his friends, and Miles spun around, shielding me with his back. I’d seen him do the same in the field with the patients, putting himself between them and danger. It was instinct, I knew, and years of training, but my pulse still picked up as he moved to protect me. His arms around me felt strong and warm. His chest was broad and solid as steel. When I looked up, our eyes met, and my breath caught in my chest. His gaze was all fire, red from the beer sign. He smiled, and I felt my heart skip a beat.
“You okay? Did he hit you? You look kind of dazed.”
I felt kind of dazed, breathless, head spinning. Miles smelled good, like soap and some woodsy cologne. Not like coffee at all, or coffee breath. Maybe I was drunk, but no. No, I wasn’t. I was sober and dizzy and safe in his arms, and when I looked up at him, all I wanted was?—
“Sophie?”
His voice had gone rough, a sandpaper rasp. And had he moved closer, or was it just me? Was that the heat of his body, or was I burning up?
I rose up without thinking, on the tips of my toes. Miles closed his eyes, and I tilted my head. Then I kissed him, or he kissed me. Or we kissed each other. Our lips brushed. Miles sighed. I felt his hand in my hair. Fire surged through my body and the moment stretched out, my hand on his bicep, his hip bumping mine. Mint on his breath, and a faint hint of beer. Then somebody shouted and Miles pulled away. Someone bumped into him, and our heads bumped. We both fell back laughing.
“I should get going,” I said.
“Yeah… yeah, go on. I’ll see you at work.”
I felt like I ought to say something else, like this doesn’t have to be anything , or that wasn’t weird, right? But no words came, and someone scored on TV. The whole bar erupted, half cheering, half boos. Brian yelled out for Miles and he craned to see.
“Sorry,” he said.
“No, no, it’s fine.”
“I’d better, uh…”
“Yeah.”
We broke apart, and I headed outside, and the cold hit me like a slap in the face. At the Brewery, I ordered myself a tequila, and then another, and the evening went hazy. One minute we were dancing, me and Kate cheek to cheek, screaming over the music — I kissed Miles! You what? — then I blinked and the scene had changed. A different bar. I switched to water, then back to tequila, and next thing I knew, I was at home, in bed, shrinking away from the pale morning sun. I dug under the pillow and moaned with relief, then the night flooded back and I bolted upright.
I hadn’t.
I couldn’t have.
Had I… kissed Miles?
I tried to remember — had that been a dream? But details kept rushing back, vivid and real, the scrape of Miles’s stubble. His palm on my cheek. How he sighed when our lips met, almost relief. Like every moment between us had led up to this.
“Oh, God,” I whispered. How drunk had I been? But the answer was “not drunk.” That had come later. I didn’t even have that excuse. What had I done? What would Monday morning look like at work? I tried to remember who had kissed whom, if I’d leaned in first, or if it had been Miles. That mad surge of chemistry, had he felt it too? Or had I been riding high on my first month milestone, half-buzzed, elated, and I’d lost my mind?
I tried to recall how we’d left it, but that part was blurry. It’d been kind of awkward, like in a tight space, when you bump into someone coming the other way. Then the bar had got noisy and I’d run out.
“Sophie?” Mom knocked on my door. “Pancakes are ready whenever you are. And I got blueberries, and real maple syrup.”
My stomach did a backflip, half nerves, half tequila. I closed my eyes till it settled. “Coming,” I croaked.
“You’d better not be hungover. I’ve got a busy day planned.”
I hauled myself out of bed and braced myself for the booze sweats, but once my head cleared, I felt okay. The real pain would come when I showed up for work, if it was awkward. If I’d made it weird. The best job I’d ever had, God. Had I blown it?