Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Tate
I wake with a start and look up at the ceiling. Chicago. We’re in Chicago.
I frown as I feel silky strands of hair in my hand. I look down to find Sophia sleeping on me.
Shit, I fell asleep in Sophia’s bed. Her head is resting against my abdomen, one leg curled over mine. My hand is tangled in her hair. One of her hands is spread across my thigh. She’s not yet awake, so I take a moment to look at her, really look at her.
She has some light freckles on her nose and cheeks. Her light brown hair has strands of blonde and red in it. I can’t tell if it’s natural or not, but knowing Sophia, I bet it is. Her fingernails have chipped pink polish on them. Her lips are slightly parted, and the sound of her steady breathing fills the quiet room. Her eyelashes flutter slightly against her cheeks. I smile down at her. She’s beautiful.
And then I realize her breast is smashed against my hip and…fuck…my morning wood is, well…stiff. I can’t let her see that. It’s so not appropriate. We are just friends.
A small little part of my brain screams, “But you sort of want to be more than friends.” And I tell it to shut the fuck up.
I glance around the room. It’s still early. I can see just a peek of the sky through the slit opening of the curtains and it’s turning that light shade of dark blue that happens a few minutes before sunrise. I glance down again and try to figure out how to extricate myself without waking Sophia. I shouldn’t have shut my eyes when I got tired. I shouldn’t have come over here to begin with. What the hell am I doing?
As gently as I can, I begin to pry myself from her, tucking a pillow under her head and leg so she’s comfortable. She stirs briefly but doesn’t wake. I freeze for a moment, hoping she’ll keep her eyes closed. When she does, I breathe a sigh of relief and begin to walk quietly back to my room.
I decide I’ll work out and shower before we grab breakfast and roll out. I expect Sophia will be up in a little while. What I don’t expect are Sophia’s shoes lying on the ground at the foot of the bed. And in the very dim light of the room, I fail to see them, mostly because my gaze is still fixed on Sophia instead of where I’m going. And the result of this is me going sailing through the air and hitting the dresser with a giant thud. My head hits the corner of the dresser and I groan as I try to stand back up.
“Oh my God! Tate! Are you OK?” Sophia’s voice says loudly from the bed. I hear her climb out of it and scurry toward me, throwing back a curtain on her way that illuminates the room including her shoes that just nearly killed me.
I rub my head and feel a small bump next to my eye. Shit.
I turn to look in the mirror over the dresser, but Sophia is suddenly grabbing my face and yanking it down toward her. She examines it closely and I wince as she gently runs a finger over the bump.
“Sorry,” she whispers. “Sit down,” she commands, and for reasons I can’t explain, her mom voice turns me the fuck on and I comply mostly to keep my morning wood from becoming more noticeable.
Sophia’s big eyes blink in front of mine and she examines me again. “I’m going to get some ice. You have a nice bump there. How many fingers am I holding up?” she asks as she raises three fingers.
“Ten,” I say dryly.
“Great. You are for sure great,” she replies with a roll of her eyes before heading to the door.
I grab her arm as she steps away. “You cannot go out there like that,” I state as I survey her curves through the thin fabric of the shirt and shorts she wore to bed. There’s no way I’m letting just anyone see that. I’m not sure why I feel so intensely protective of her, but I do.
She looks down and blushes. “Uh, right…” she squeaks, and I can tell she’s upset by the way she looks away from me but I’m not sure why. Does she not want me to protect her?
Before I can say another word, she’s grabbed a hoodie and the ice bucket and headed out of the room, leaving the latch in between the door and wall to prop it open. A minute later she’s back. I watch as she wraps some ice in a hand towel and places it on my bump.
“Hold it on there for at least fifteen minutes,” she says. “Are you woozy? Do you feel OK?”
I sigh as I place my hand over hers and she slowly pulls her hand out, leaving mine holding the ice. I search her eyes, but I can’t read what she’s thinking. I frown.
“What’s wrong?” she asks.
I’m about to ask her the same when there’s a knock at the door and then it bursts open.
“Everything OK in…whoa! What happened?” Penn asks as he steps up to the bed.
Great. Now I just feel like a zoo exhibit.
I pull down the ice, and he winces. “Damn, bro! Sophia, did you clock him for being an idiot?”
Sophia rolls her eyes. “Penn, you can’t just waltz into my room unannounced.”
Penn grins and Sophia shakes her head.
“I wanted to see if Mr. Took-a-beating here wanted to work out but I’m thinking he needs some medical assistance,” Penn states as he looks down at me.
“I’m fine. I just tripped and hit my head. Sophia was kind enough to go get me ice,” I explain, hoping Penn doesn’t ask any more questions that would lead to me having to explain how I slept in Sophia’s room.
“Damn. That’s an unworthy story. You need something better, like Sophia here kicked your ass for being too loud or you tried to sing a song and she lost her shit and knocked you out. Bam!” Penn says excitedly with a laugh.
I glare at him and he shrugs. “It’d be a better story.”
“OK, as much as I love having you both here. I need to get a shower and pack. So please go do whatever it is famous men do at…” She glances at the clock next to the bed. “Five forty-five in the morning.”
Penn smirks and I stand, slapping him in the chest to usher him out before he says something else stupid.
“See you in a bit. We’re meeting at seven in the restaurant for breakfast,” Penn calls out as I shove him through the door and lock it behind him.
I turn to Sophia, the towel of ice still clutched in my hand. “Thanks, and sorry about Penn.”
“He’s a hoot,” Sophia says with a giggle.
“Something like that,” I mutter as I walk back into my room.
“Don’t worry, she’ll still find you mildly attractive,” Sophia says, and I turn around.
“Mildly?” I scoff.
She presses her lips together as they start to twitch into the beginnings of a smile.
“Mildly,” she confirms.
“I’d throw something at you right now, but we don’t have time for two people to ice their heads,” I state as I close the door, hearing her laugh as I do. The sound of it brings a smile to my lips.
* * *
“Damn, M, way to kick Tate’s ass,” Rex says with a laugh as we get on the highway. Against everyone’s wishes, I somehow talked them into letting me drive.
“Do you think anyone got photos of us?” Penn asks after our laughter dies down. When we piled into the car at the hotel, I swear there was a flash. I had hurried Sophia into the back seat and settled into the driver’s seat before anyone could protest.
“I don’t know. I mean, it’s risky being in the city as it is, but all of us together…” Jordan trails off as I pick up speed.
“Sorry,” Rex mutters.
I clap him on the shoulder as I drive. “Don’t worry about it. I’m glad we got to see Trevor. It was a fun night. And so what if someone took photos. It’s all good. It’s a city. We could have all been there for different reasons and got together. We’ll just keep a low profile from here out,” I offer.
Shrugging, Rex looks out the window. I wonder if he’s talked to Emily, his girlfriend. He hasn’t mentioned her once on this entire trip. I thought things were going well, but I feel bad that I haven’t asked him. I’ve been so consumed with my own relationship issues. He seems happy but he never pulls the trigger to formally commit to her. I often wonder if he really loves her or if his failed first marriage has given him cold feet. I internally make a note to talk with him soon.
My gaze darts to Penn. I smirk and give a little shake of my head. Where Rex has been dating the same model for a few years, Penn seems to never be settling down. He goes from one adventure to the next, and one relationship, if you can call it that, to the next.
Then there’s Jordan. I glance at him. He’s texting on his phone. I’ve never seen a couple more in love than Alisha and him. God, I envy him. Maybe it is because of my fucked-up childhood, but I have always wanted a family of my own. I want to do it right. I want kids and I want to be there for them. I want to find the love of my life and settle down. Even if Jordan and Alisha don’t have kids, they at least have each other and a ton of nieces and nephews that they spoil rotten.
“How’s your head feeling?” Sophia asks, breaking the silence that’s descended on the car.
“Much better,” I assure her.
“If you don’t feel good, just let me know,” she says, and I wonder if she’s afraid I have a concussion and doesn’t want me driving. Little does she know I’ve had a concussion before, and this is definitely just a little bump on the head. After I iced it, there was a small bruise but nothing that won’t heal up in a few days’ time. I catch her gaze in the rearview mirror and give her my patented, panty-dropping smile.
She rolls her eyes but can’t hide her smile. My fake grin turns into a real one as I look back at the road. She’s so fucking awesome. And she’s smart and funny. She’s the whole package. I frown a little, wondering why she’s still single. How long did she say she’d been divorced? I swear she mentioned it at some point, three years or four?
A blaring horn makes me jump as my mind is brought back to the present.
“What the hell?” I grumble as I grip the steering wheel. “Damn trucker.”
“Maybe you were too close or something?” Rex suggests.
I turn and glare at him. He shrugs. And I go back to watching where I’m going. My mind drifts back to Sophia as I drive. How is it that I’ve only known her a few days, yet it feels like she’s been in my life forever? I’ve never been this comfortable around anyone this quickly, ever.
I’m mid-thought when another truck honks its horn at me.
“For the love of…” I mutter as I check to make sure I’m still in my lane.
“Are your headlights on?” Penn asks.
“No. It’s the middle of the day,” I state as I shake my head. What the hell is he even talking about?
“Oh, yeah, sometimes they like them on…you know, as a courtesy,” he says.
I shake my head and turn on the lights. “OK, but I’ve never heard of that in my life.”
Just as my mind begins to go back to Sophia once more, another truck honks.
“What the fuck is going on? Did the back not lock? Is there a dead body hanging out of the car? Did one of you idiots leave your baggage on the roof?” I say loudly.
There is complete silence in the car for about half a second and then all four of my passengers burst out laughing. I turn my head to look at them and Penn pumps his fist up and down in the international sign you give to truckers to ask them to honk their horn.
I grab a handful of M&M’s from the center console and chuck them at my friends.
“You are cleaning that later!” Sophia yelps in between laughter.
“Five-second rule,” Rex says as he grabs a few from the ground and stuffs them in his mouth.
“That is nasty, man! Penn’s feet were there two days ago,” Jordan says as he tries to pick up a few stray candies near his feet.
“Hey! My feet are gorgeous! Even Paris Fashion Week reporters agreed,” he protests.
“Fuck off, Penn! They all agreed those sandals were gorgeous. Your feet did not land you the title of Sexiest Man Alive,” I point out.
Rex holds out his hand to Jordan like he has a microphone. “Penn Baker, can you tell us what it’s like to have feet that gorgeous?” Rex mimics a young woman’s voice.
“Well, not everyone can have perfect feet, Robin. It’s just…a gift,” Jordan tries to mimic Penn’s voice.
This causes Sophia to lose it. She’s laughing so hard she starts crying.
“Oh no, you guys broke Sophia,” Penn teases as he tosses her a box of tissues from the back.
“Plus, we all know the real foot favorite is Tate,” Rex states as Sophia wipes her cheeks.
“Why is that?” Sophia asks as Rex hands her some Pringles.
“You haven’t heard what the ladies say about our Tate?” Penn asks with a giant smirk.
Sophia frowns.
“OK, that’s quite enough of that,” I state with a pointed look.
“What?” Sophia whispers.
“I’m right here,” I groan.
“That Tate is perfect…everywhere,” Penn whispers loudly.
“Everywhere?” Sophia asks. I look in the rearview mirror and we lock gazes.
“Everywhere,” Penn mutters.
Now it’s me that smirks because I’m a jackass and I can’t help it. Sophia’s cheeks turn red, but she doesn’t turn away as we continue to stare at each other for a long second. When I finally look back at the road, I’m left wondering what Sophia’s body looks like. My imagination kicks into overdrive as I listen to her singing along to a hip-hop song. From the little glimpses I’ve seen, and if it’s anything like her voice, then her body must be perfect. And I should definitely stop thinking about it. But I can’t. And fuck me, I don’t want to stop thinking about it either.