Chapter 14 #2
“What?” I blink, looking straight at her. Sophie shifts uncomfortably in the passenger seat. She’s looking up at me with those pretty brown eyes.
Taking a deep breath, she starts to explain.
“I’m an idiot. And once I said it I couldn’t take it back.
Mostly because I thought you’d never let me hear the end of it if I did.
” She glances down at her hands. “And maybe there was some self-preservation in there, too. I thought that if you thought you’d slept with me you wouldn’t be interested in me anymore. ”
I run my tongue along my bottom lip. “You don’t want me to be interested in you?”
She exhales heavily. “No, that’s not it. I didn’t want to be interested in you. There was this chemistry there from the start…”
“You could say that.” It was more like fireworks. I remember the first time I saw her, talking to Ava, wearing a flirty white dress that ended mid-thigh. My eyes had immediately been drawn to her, and I’d asked Myles who she was.
And of course, he warned me off right away.
“Let’s go inside,” I say. “Best not to be talking about this out here.” Not when Myles and Ava’s house is right next to the bungalow. I’m pretty sure she doesn’t want them hearing this.
She nods, and I don’t like how vulnerable she looks. Like she’s afraid I’m going to turn on her and scream or something. “Sophe,” I say softly. “It’s okay.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I know you,” I tell her. “We’re friends, aren’t we? Let’s go inside and you can explain.”
This time her breath is ragged. Her eyes reflect the light of the moon, full of tears. Before I can say another word, one of them escapes, rolling down her cheek.
And I’m horrified.
“Baby.” I pull her against me, my arms wrapping around her. “How long have you been worrying about this?”
She sniffs against my chest. “A while.”
“Then stop worrying for Christ sake. Everybody tells lies occasionally. And more than anybody I know you have a good explanation.” I kiss the top of her head, and the smell of her shampoo fills my senses.
And of course I get hard.
Shifting back so she doesn’t feel it, I cup her cheeks, feeling the wetness of her tears on my fingers. “It’s okay,” I tell her again.
“I hate lies. I’ve always hated lies.” She sniffles. “Ever since we learned about George Washington and that cherry tree in kindergarten.”
“What story is that?” I ask, frowning.
“The one where he chops down a tree as a kid and then his dad asks him about it and he says he can never tell a lie.” Her lips wobble. I’m still cupping her face, staring down at her.
“I’ve never heard that,” I tell her. “Did that really happen?”
“No.” Her voice wobbles. “That’s the stupid thing. It’s a myth told to kids to try to stop them from lying. I only found out it wasn’t true when I went to Mount Vernon in eighth grade.”
I’m trying not to laugh because she looks genuinely upset. “So somebody told a lie about George Washington not telling a lie, and that lie has made you always tell the truth?”
“You’re teasing me,” she says. “But I still hate lying. I can’t remember telling a fib this big to anybody else.”
“Then I’m honored.” And I am in a weird way. Especially since she’s coming clean now.
She told a lie because she was afraid of the chemistry. Which means she feels it, too.
A light flickers on in Ava and Myles’ hallway.
“Come on, let’s get inside.” She lets me take her hand and I lead her up the steps, still holding on to her while I use the other to slide the key into the lock.
And then I pull her into the house, closing the door behind her.
Myles and Ava had better mind their own damn business, because I need to concentrate on cheering her up.
“Can I use your bathroom?” she asks. “I need to wash my face. Tidy myself up.”
“Yeah, of course. I’ll start dinner.” I gesture for her to walk ahead of me, but she still looks so unsure. It’s unlike her to be so reticent, so upset. And yeah, I want to know more about this lie, because let’s face it, it changes everything, but more than anything I want her to smile again.
“It’s okay,” I tell her.
She frowns and shakes her head. “No it isn’t. But thank you for pretending it is anyway.”
SOPHIE
I was such an idiot to blurt it out like that. I stare at my reflection, the thick makeup I put on at the studio is smudged and I look absolutely terrible. I run the faucet and wash my face before squeezing my eyes shut for a moment.
I have to walk out there. I have to explain.
I can’t just throw that information at him and then hide away.
When I walk into the kitchen, he’s stirring a pot of sauce. He looks up as I enter.
I take a deep breath. “That morning when we woke up together,” I say, needing to get this out before I start to think twice about it. “You assumed we had sex and I was about to deny it, but then I realized that it was the answer to all my prayers.”
“Pretending to have sex with me was the answer to your prayers?” he asks, his brow furrowing.
I shake my head. “That’s not what I mean. It was just that you were so insistent about only sleeping with a woman for one night. And I thought about how much easier life would be if that had actually happened. We could walk away and forget about all the tension between us.”
“Tension?” A smile plays at his lips.
“Chemistry,” I say and his smile widens. “Aren’t you angry with me for lying?” I ask him.
“Would you prefer if I was?”
I don’t know the answer to this. I just wasn’t expecting him to be so cool about it. I’ve been angsting over this for months. I hate myself for misleading him. And now here he is, completely nonchalant.
I don’t understand it.
He pours a glass of wine and passes it to me. So he’s not throwing me out, I guess. Then the oven beeps and he slides some crusty bread into it.
“It kind of makes sense,” he says, his eyes on mine.
“What makes you say that?” I ask him.
“Because I’m extremely attracted to you.”
Oh. My heart does a flip in my chest. “So you’re not attracted to a woman once you sleep with her?”
He shakes his head. “Not like this, no.”
“Like what?” I ask him. “Can you explain it.”
He stirs the sauce and checks the bread, before pulling a salad he must have made earlier out of the refrigerator. And when he finally turns to me there’s an intense expression on his face.
“I want you like I’ve never wanted another woman in my life.”
“Oh!” I’m a mixture of embarrassed, gratified, and completely shocked. “Seriously?”
“Did my bidding on your lot not give it away? What about video calling you every night so I can watch you smile as we watch Grey’s Anatomy? Did that not make you think that I might be a little attracted to you?”
“You said you wanted to be friends,” I point out.
“I do. I do want to be friends.” And isn’t that the weird thing? “I just don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to be your friend and be attracted to you. But I’m trying, Sophie. I really am.”
I nod. “I know you are. I like this side of you. But I don’t know which side of you is real,” I confess. “The Liam who treats me like a queen, or the Liam who knows how to press every button I have and enjoys it.”
“Can’t they both be real?” he asks.
His eyes catch mine. There’s an honesty in them that slays me.
“I think maybe they can,” I say softly. “But can I ask you a question?”
He nods. “Shoot.”
“Why won’t you sleep with a woman more than once?”