Chapter 18
Grant
The Storm Inside
Sophia had gone quiet, her expression distant like she wasn’t in her own skin anymore.
I’d seen that look before on other people, but I’d never seen it during sex.
When I fucked, there was no space for any thoughts other than the pleasure we were both having.
Feelings aside, I always made it good for whoever I was with.
“Peach.” I cupped her cheek, most of the warmth that had been there before, faded.
“Peach. Look at me.” Her eyes had gone cold, too, but they managed to find mine.
She blinked a few times, like she was coming back from somewhere else entirely.
My brows pinched together as I watched her go from stoney, to flushed and pink and ready, as if nothing happened.
“What’re you looking at me like that for?”
“Where’d you just go?”
Confusion dawned on her pretty face. “I-I haven’t moved.”
I mentally cursed myself out as my thumb smoothed over her cheek, making her bite her lip.
I freed her lip with my thumb and bent down, intending to kiss her lips.
To make this feeling turn back to what it had been.
I hesitated for a beat too long, warring with myself, then kissed her forehead and straightened.
“You win.”
“What?”
I found my jeans on the floor and slung them over my shoulder. “You win. Hat.”
“You…” Her hair turned into a curtain, shielding her face as she shook her head, staring down at the floor. When she raised her chin to look at me, I sucked in a pained breath. “You’re done? Just like that? I don’t…I don’t get it. Am I not pretty enough?”
Fuck. “That’s not it.”
“So, there is something wrong with me?” She laughed coldly.
“I knew it. I knew you were leading me on, all just to see if I’d give it up to you, because what else could I possibly be worth to you?
Your intentions came straight from your dick, and that’s all you see when you look at me—a willing target.
Someone who’s trapped, but easy to tap. Can’t have my money, but can get me in bed, isn’t that right? ”
I narrowed my eyes. “No.”
“Stop lying!” A tear rolled down her cheek as she slumped deeper into herself. “I wish for fucking once in my life a man would be honest about his intentions.”
Confusion clouded my mind. Had she…was she not aware that she’d just dissociated? Was it like when she heard loud noises and froze?
“Now isn’t a good time,” I settled on.
“Yeah, well”—she stood, shielding her breasts with her arms—“There won’t be another time. This was all a mistake.”
Sophia tried to storm past me, but I put my arm out. She glared at me as I splayed my fingers over her stomach. “Peach, don’t. Let’s just talk for a minute.”
“Don’t touch me, Grant.” Another tear streaked her cheek. “You’ve said, and done, enough.” She pushed my arm away with little force and shut the bedroom door behind her, throwing the lock with a finite click.
Having a best friend with a marijuana farm came with a few perks. Having that same best friend end up marrying a woman that was best friends with a woman I didn’t realize I badly fucking wanted was not one of ’em.
Not like this.
I pulled a joint from my glovebox, ignoring my tin of dip, and sparked it before getting cozy in the bed of my truck.
Something I always liked about the mountains was how close you felt to the stars, like you could reach out and scoop up a handful.
But I couldn’t focus on the fucking stars because all I could see in my mind was Sophia, on her knees, crying.
She really thought I didn’t want her. She said it like it had happened to her so many times before, she’d grown accustomed to being disregarded.
Used. Nothing more than a hole to fuck and leave once they realized they weren’t getting an ounce of money.
Once they knew her future was already set and her hand already spoken for.
I didn’t give a damn about some arranged marriage.
I didn’t give a fuck about whatever money she was entitled to as the daughter of the wealthiest oil mogul in Texas.
I didn’t want to leave her, or forget her. I wanted her closer. I wanted to know more about her. I wanted to find out what made her happy and what made her worries go away. And I wanted to be the one to make her feel the way she was makin’ me feel.
The video on her phone hadn’t left my mind since the night I watched it, and I had to wonder how many reactions stemmed from that event. How many times that had happened to her. If her family knew what Walton had done, would they still force her to marry him? Would they even care?
Fuck. I pulled the lit joint from my lips and glared at it like it was the reason my thoughts wouldn’t stop racing, when really, they hadn’t stopped since she came into my life.
A cool breeze rippled by, flaring the cherry brighter as I took in a deeper hit, watching the paper burn up almost as fast as what had happened inside.
The moment she slammed the door, I threw my shirt back on, grabbed my keys, and headed here, figuring she needed her space. Time to think or rest or whatever she needed to do to get in the right mindset. She had to know I wanted her. There was no fucking way—
The wooden floorboards from the front porch creaked, a plank I’d been meaning to fix finally having a greater purpose than exposing first-timer carpentry gone wrong.
I took another hit and waited, shuffling in my cold, damp jeans, and propping my hand beneath my head, looking more casual than I felt.
Inside, I was a storm waiting to rage, a dam waiting to burst. My desire for so many things involving Sophia didn’t go anywhere as the top of her blonde hair moved just over the side of my truck’s bed.
I half expected her to tell me she wanted to go home.
Was ready for her to tell me to drive her to Texas and never speak to her again.
Instead, she climbed up the back and slung her blanket-covered leg over the tailgate, then settled in beside me, leaving only a few inches of space between us.
I tried not to act like every inch that kept us apart was wasted space.
Like it wasn’t pissing me off. But it was.
It made my skin itch as she tossed her open hand in my line of view, her fingers close together in a gesture that signaled for me to pass the joint.
Her peach scent flooded my senses as she took a hit, then coughed when she pulled it away.
I chuckled and accepted the joint back. “Strong, I know.”
“I take it that’s from your friend?”
“It is.” The wind rustled the leaves in the cool night air. She shuddered, clutching the blanket around her as I passed the joint again. “Tallulah has more clothes inside, if you're cold.”
She took a hit, breathing out the small plume of smoke more slowly this time.
Silence lingered painfully as I waited for her to answer me or say why she came out, but then again, I was just happy she was here.
Being this close to her…it did something to me.
Made me feel things I’d never felt before.
“Did you eat?” I asked, breaking the silence as she passed the barely-there joint back. I took the last hit, then licked my thumb and pressed it to the end, extinguishing the cherry.
“No.”
“Did you want—”
“I’m not right, Grant.”
I turned my head, pinching my brows as I looked her over. Her hair was different now that it had dried some, the kinks I noticed when she’d been on her knees coming to life in tight curls. Stunning. “What do you mean?”
When she turned to face me, her eyes were lined with red, puffy lids. “In the head. I’m not right.” She bit down on her bottom, full lip, then turned to face the stars. “My mom died giving birth to me, did you know that?”
I nodded slowly, then made a sound of agreement when she didn’t turn to see my reply.
“My dad got remarried a few years later, but he still talks about her sometimes. He really loved her, you know?” Her voice was calm, like she’d said this aloud more than once.
More than a few times. “They were arranged to be married. He was from a family line that was wealthy enough to catch the interests of my mother’s father. ”
“You have your mother’s last name, right?” I already knew the answer. Her mother was the one who had stemmed from the Pierson side, not her father. Still, he carried on her name through their daughter.
She nodded against me. “When they met, my dad said, ‘Every spark ignited like the Fourth of July.’ They had something real”—she turned to face me again, the starlight playing against her blue eyes—“something unmatched.”
“And you think that’s you and Walton?” My stomach, and damn near every muscle in my body, tensed at the thought.
She shook her head, glancing at my lips before meeting my eyes.
“I never felt anything for him. I tried. Lord knows, I tried.” An air of lightness escaped with her laughter.
“You figure one day you’ll be hit with the butterflies.
The want to be close to them, to hear their voice after a long day, to hug them when things don’t feel right in the world—I just figured it would hit me one day. ”
“And it hasn’t?”
Sophia sighed. “No. I haven’t felt that before.
I thought I did when I was eighteen, but now…
I’m not so sure.” My throat ran dry at the thought of her with someone else.
But that was normal. She had a past, as did I.
So why did it feel like betrayal? “Have you been with someone like that before? Someone you thought could mean everything to you, but they proved you wrong, time and time again?”