Chapter 40 Sophia
Lorenzo
How you doin’?
Me
We really have to stop with the Friends references. Do we not know any other shows?
Lorenzo
I won’t have you disrespect my favorite show like that.
Me
It’s my favorite show too! How cool is that?
Lorenzo
So what you’re saying is we’re having a Friends marathon tonight?
Me
I could be convinced…
Lorenzo
I will pick you up at your office.
Me
I haven’t said yes.
Lorenzo
You’re acting as if you don’t miss me.
Me
I don’t.
Lorenzo
You’re cute when you lie. But that’s fine. I won’t be taking no for an answer because I miss you. See? I can accept it.
Lorenzo
I’ll pick you up at 5, Blue.
I stare at my phone screen with a blank expression.
Where the hell did that come from?
The thought of spending time with Lorenzo after everything that’s happened sets a million butterflies loose in my stomach. And the looming realization we’re going to Las Vegas tomorrow makes me queasy, to say the least. The truth is, I’ve missed him. A lot. But I also know we’re supposed to break it off when that’s far from what I want, and I don’t know how to deal with that fact.
Max strides into my cubicle, making himself at home as he perches on the edge of my desk, crossing one ankle over his knee. “Are my eyes deceiving me? I can’t believe you’re here.”
I keep the eye roll I want to throw him in check. “Yeah, sorry about that. Had a family emergency.”
“I don’t care.” He rolls his eyes. “Tell me, how’s the article going? And the gossip column?”
I look around, and the office is pretty empty. This is my chance to tell him the truth.
“The article is almost done, only needs some editing, which I’m currently working on, but the gossip column…not so much. I can’t write something like that, Max. It’s not my style, and you know it.” I lift my chin slightly, keeping my voice as even as possible. I won’t back down. Not on this.
“Let’s go to my office to talk some more,” he grits out, tilting his head.
Once we enter and he shuts his door, his real colors show, as always. “I don’t give a fuck if it’s your style or not, Sophia. You get paid to write. Are you incapable of following simple instructions?”
Something inside me snaps as I hear the words come out of his mouth. Anger. Annoyance. But overall, I’m fed up . I’m tired of being the good little Sophia who lets people eat away at the kindness of my heart. With everything that went down with Amelia, a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders.
I’m done being pushed around.
“It’s funny you say that. Because you get paid to be editor in chief, and yet, I do all the work for you.”
His face turns bright red, his eyes bulging in shock. “What did you just say?” He stalks toward me, eating the distance between us. He’s a tall man, sure. Not as tall as Lorenzo, though, and honestly, it doesn’t intimidate me in the least .
“I’m tired of playing your puppet, Max. I’m not writing the gossip column, and I’m done doing your job.”
“I will make your life a living hell if you don’t comply.”
“I would love to see you try,” I reply in defiance. “The emails are there. All the evidence that you’ve been dumping the work on my lap for years. I wonder how the VP will react if she ever finds out?”
Taking a stand after being taken advantage of for so long feels like a fever dream. My heart is beating like crazy, knowing this confrontation will probably bring horrible consequences. But I can make it work, I always do. Even if he decides to fire me right now, I can pack up my things and move back to Kentucky, get a two-bedroom apartment, and live with Mom. Get a waitressing job, or anything to survive in the meantime. Everything is cheaper in Kentucky, anyway.
Why is the thought of moving to Kentucky so depressing, then?
My life is here. My friends. Lorenzo . The idea of walking away from him kills me. My heart aches at the thought.
Max’s nose flares in annoyance as he holds my gaze, but I don’t quiver. “Very well. You better bring the article of the lifetime, Sophia. Otherwise, you won’t like the consequences.”
That’s it? He’s not going to fire me?
This is a win. Take it and run away!
Something’s not right. Out of all the scenarios I’ve cooked in my head, this wasn’t one of them.
Don’t overthink it.
I simply nod and walk away, feeling more confident than ever.
Lorenzo’s article is done.
A sense of relief washes through me as I stare at the completed work. The first thing I’ll do tonight is show it to him. If he hates it, I’ll have to figure something else out. But I think I did good. I feel good about it, and my gut is rarely wrong when it comes to this sort of thing.
As I’m printing the article to give a physical copy to Lorenzo, I hear the door of the office open and steps getting closer to me. The hair on the back of my neck prickles in anticipation, and I don’t need to turn around to know who it is. Lorenzo has such a specific, commanding presence that can take the air out of my lungs and make my skin fill with goosebumps with his proximity. I turn around and find Lorenzo leaning against the wall, arms casually behind him, dressed in black pants and a burgundy short-sleeve knit top that shows off most of his ink. I’ve never been drawn to tattoos before, but that’s only because I’ve never seen someone like Lorenzo wear them the way he does. I can’t picture him without them—they suit him perfectly. The small golden chain I love to tug sits around his neck, gleaming against the fabric of his shirt. When my eyes meet his, the intensity of his gaze—hungry and electrifying—makes my thighs clench with need.
“Hi, Blue,” he rasps, a small but killer smile playing on his lips.
I swallow hard, trying to find words. “Hi, Ace.”
He closes the small gap between us, arms still tucked behind his back. When he stands in front of me, a small bouquet of purple Madagascar periwinkles appears between us—the same flowers that decorated the villa in Panamá. The same flower he tucked behind my ear that night.
I look up, tilting my head. “For me?”
“Of course,” he answers simply.
Before I can take them off his hands, he stops me and reaches for a flower, plucking it carefully. Just like last time, his hand tucks a piece of hair behind my ear and places the flower there.
“God, you’re beautiful,” he whispers gravelly.
I swallow hard, trying to drown the way my cheeks heat. “Thank you. I love them.”
He nods, giving me a sheepish smile before asking. “You ready?”
I nod, grabbing my purse and dropping the article inside. I almost grab the laptop out of habit, and I hesitate for a moment, but I keep true to my word and leave it. It’s sort of a surreal, proud moment. Knowing I’m putting myself first for once, forgetting about work and actually enjoying life. As we walk out to take the elevator, my shoulders tense as I see none other than Max waiting for the elevator, too.
“Oh, Lorenzo, long time no see, man,” Max says.
The elevator door opens, and we walk in.
“Max.” Lorenzo gives a curt nod, his voice sharp and to the point.
Max frowns at Lorenzo’s tone, his eyes finally landing on me, like he’s now noticed I’ve been standing here the whole time.
Shit.
Vogue Elite doesn’t have any hard rules against fraternizing with the people we’re writing about. It’s all too vague to enforce, considering the range of stories we cover. But Max isn’t the type to care about rules anyway. I can almost see the gears turning in his head, plotting how to use this situation against me. After all, I threatened his job, and if there’s one thing I know about working for a misogynistic asshole like him, it’s that he’s proud to his very core.
Stop overthinking. Nothing has happened.
“I hope Sophia has been nice to work with,” Max says with a smug, knowing grin.
“She has,” Lorenzo replies, his face enigmatic.
“I bet,” Max murmurs, shaking his head slightly. “Have a good night, Lorenzo.” His gaze shifts to me, his tone pointed. “Sophia, don’t forget to turn in the article on Monday.” As the elevator doors slide open, he steps out without another word, leaving a tight knot of tension twisting in the pit of my stomach.
“The article is ready?” Lorenzo asks.
I nod. “I was going to talk to you about it tonight.” I pat my purse. “I have a physical copy for you to read and get your approval. It doesn’t come out until the end of next month.”
He shakes his head. “You don’t need my approval. I trust you.”
My eyes find his in shock. “Are you sure?”
He nods, a soft smile playing on his lips as he drapes his arm over my shoulder, pulling me close. “Now, come on,” he says, guiding us toward the exit, “we’ve got a Friends marathon to start.”
I offer him a simple smile, though inside my thoughts are racing. Knowing I’ve earned Lorenzo’s trust makes my heart tighten. If this summer has taught me anything, it’s that he keeps his walls up for a reason. He doesn’t trust easily. And the fact he’s let me in—deemed me worthy—fills me with a strange sense of pride.
You have to tell him how you feel. Before everything goes up in flames.
I have no other option but to tell him tonight, because tomorrow we’re supposed to go to Vegas, and I’m far from done.
We’ve managed to watch one whole season of Friends . It doesn’t matter how many times I watch this show; the jokes will never get old. My belly hurts from all the laughter, and we’ve been competing to see who can quote more—and fortunately for me, I’m winning. I changed into one of Lorenzo’s dress shirts that practically fit me like a dress, and he changed into a white shirt and a pair of gray sweatpants that leave nothing to the imagination.
Damn gray sweatpants. They are every woman’s undoing.
It’s been a chill night. We ordered a ridiculous amount of food and snacks, and we’re currently washing it all down with some boba tea only because I was craving some. It’s one of the best nights I have had in a while, and for once, I feel some sort of normalcy. Something I could get used to, only with him.
“Try my boba,” I say, shoving the drink in his face.
He pushes both my hand and the cup away. “No.”
“Why not?” I pout .
“Because brown sugar boba sounds like it’s going to be obnoxiously sweet.”
“Exactly. It’s amazing.” I give his arm a playful smack. “Come on, one sip. For me?” I persist, bringing the drink back toward him.
He rolls his eyes but leans forward, wrapping his mouth around the straw. The second the taste hits, he grimaces, shaking his head as he pushes the cup away again. “God, that’s even worse than I imagined.”
I roll my eyes. “Okay. Mr. Black Tea With No Sugar. That one does sound disgusting.”
“Hey!” He laughs. “I’m a simple guy. Leave me alone.”
Before I can reply, thunder rumbles in the distance. I glance over my shoulder, watching as flash after flash illuminates the city skyline in shades of purple. The rain starts sprinkling, lightly at first, but true to Chicago summers, it starts to pour in no time.
Lorenzo’s condo is nothing short of luxurious. We’re in the living room, sprawled across a massive sectional couch that’s big enough to sleep on. Behind me, floor-to-ceiling windows stretch across the wall, offering a perfect view of the rainy city. The muffled sound of rain drowns out the noise from the TV, the laughter that follows another one of Chandler Bing’s jokes fading into the background.
I stand, making my way to the window, and press my fingertips against the cool glass as I watch the raindrops race down. There’s something so peaceful about it, like the storm outside is washing away all the chaos of the day. I sense Lorenzo’s presence approaching, and we both stand there, quiet, enjoying the view.
Breaking the silence, I say, “I used to love dancing and playing in the rain when I was a kid.” I close my eyes, a bittersweet smile tugging at my lips as I recall the few good memories of my childhood.
Amelia loved it, too. We used to beg Mom to let us play outside, and she’d always give in, despite the inevitable outcome—one of us getting sick. But it was worth it, every time. It’s a shame, knowing that’s the same sister who I had to cut out of my life. She will always have a space in my heart, but I can’t say I regret my decision.
Lorenzo’s hand slips into mine, his fingers lacing with mine as he gently pulls me away from the window. His touch is like a lifeline, something I’ve grown dependent on—something that feels like home.
“Where are we going?”
He glances back at me with a knowing smile. “You’ll see.”
We climb the stairs and keep walking until we find another smaller set. At the top, he opens a door that leads us to a rooftop. Soft, twinkling lights are strung around, casting a warm, golden glow that blends beautifully with the cool, misty rain. Some cushioned chairs circle a bonfire pit. The view is the best part of it all, though. Simply breathtaking. The entire Chicago skyline stretches out before us, towers and skyscrapers glowing beneath the stormy sky. Thousands of lights flicker in the rain, each one a reminder of the city’s restless energy.
Lorenzo pulls out his phone, and “Hunger” by Ross Copperman begins playing through hidden speakers, catching me by surprise.
“What are you doing?” I ask, laughter bubbling out of me.
He grabs my hand, leading me to the center of the rooftop. The rain starts falling harder, droplets running down my hair and skin. I close my eyes, savoring the cool sensation as goosebumps spread over my body.
“Let’s dance,” he says, his voice low.
My eyes snap open as I raise an eyebrow. “Are you serious?”
He rolls his eyes, yanking me into him. I yelp as he barks a laugh that makes my stomach drop with butterflies. He wraps one arm around my waist, pulling me closer. My left arm circles his neck, and I rest my right hand on his chest, feeling the quick rhythm of his heartbeat beneath my palm.
“Dead serious,” he whispers with a bright smile that tears down whatever was left of my walls.
As the music plays on and we sway together, my gaze locks with his, and it’s like the universe is teasing me. Every feeling I’ve tried so hard to bury rises to the surface until I’m left raw and vulnerable in his arms, unable to ignore how much he truly means to me.
The rain falls steadily, each drop cool and refreshing against my skin, but none of it compares to the warmth I feel when I look at him. I watch his face as he spins me, the joy in his eyes, and I remember how easily he makes me laugh, and how free he makes me feel. Every moment around him makes everything else disappear. It’s like the world has narrowed down to just him and me.
I don’t want it to stop.
I don’t want us to stop.
After everything, I was so convinced love and I were done. But then there’s… him . A man who’s not asking for my heart. No. He’s earning it, bit by bit, with every kind word, every smile, and every time he makes me feel strong. Safe. Taken care of .
And it hits me, right here as we dance under the rain, how far I’ve fallen for him, to the point of no return. If he asked me to give us a chance right now, I’d say yes in a heartbeat. Because even though I’ve been hurt before, he’s shown me that maybe, just maybe, it’s worth letting myself be loved again. And maybe, after all that running, loving him is a risk I’m willing to take. Because he’s worth it all.
The song finishes, but we keep moving slowly in circles, not breaking eye contact. The world dulls around me, and I see nothing but him as his lips meet mine in a soft kiss. We kiss like we have all the time in the world. It’s not our usual passionate, desperate kisses. It’s…sweet. Exploratory. In that kiss, every hidden feeling surfaces, making my heart take flight.
His forehead meets mine, and in one breathless sigh, he says, “I can’t do this anymore.”
My body goes rigid as he keeps dancing. I can’t move. Have I read this all wrong? Of course, I did. Why was I expecting anything different?
I take a step back, but he doesn’t let go of my hand. “Is this why you wanted me to come over today? Some sort of goodbye thing?” I force a laugh, placing a hand on my stomach as I try to calm my breathing. “If so, it wasn’t necessary. I know this was another game for you.” I’m babbling now, and I’m trying my best to shut up, but if I stop talking, I’ll start crying instead. “Hell, maybe it was for me, too. A fun game. Yeah. A really fun game.”
He grips my hand, frowning. “What are you talking about?”
“You. Me. Us . Whatever this was, it’s over now. Got the message, loud and clear.” I pull out of his grip and hug myself. Having this conversation under the rain is probably not the best idea, because now I’m shaking.
He takes a step forward. “You didn't let me finish.”
I take a step back. “You don’t need to finish. I understand. We were supposed to break it off before going to Vegas. You did the right thing.”
“Blue—”
I shake my head, my voice barely a whisper. “Don’t.” My chest tightens, and I hate myself for not being able to hold back the sadness gripping it like a vise. I look up as a flash of lightning splits the sky, illuminating the rain as it pours down around us. With a sigh, I turn around and start walking away.
At least it was nice while it lasted.
Lorenzo is quick to eat the distance between us and stand in front of me, gripping my shoulders. “ Sophia .”
My name rolling off his lips makes me stop, because he never says my name. It always catches me off-guard when he does. He takes this opportunity to grip my chin, forcing me to look at him. Droplets of rain fall from his hair, and even with how disheveled he looks, clothes hugging his frame and hair sticking to his forehead, he still manages to look painfully handsome. And I can’t take it. I can’t take looking at him any longer. So I don’t. Even as he tries to get me to look at him, I keep doing my best to avoid his gaze.
He sighs, dropping his hand and stepping back. “If you’d let me finish, I would’ve told you I’m head over heels for you.”
My eyes snap to his, searching for any sign of humor, but there’s none. His jaw is clenched, shoulders stiff, his expression dead serious.
“ Goddamn it, Blue .” He gestures between us. “I can’t keep pretending this is all I want from you.” He fists his hair, tilting his head back, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he struggles for the right words.
I let out a small gasp at this confession. “Lorenzo?—”
He interrupts me. “I know I’m not worthy of you. God, you’re so far out of my league it’s comical.” He laughs, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. He grips the nape of my neck with both of his hands. I look up, locking our gaze. His eyes are wild now, and his chest is heaving rapidly. “Be mine, Sophia. And I will work every goddamn day to be worthy of you. Let me prove to you I can be the man you need. Let me look after you. Please.” His voice breaks at the end. “Be mine,” he repeats.
Little does he know, he has nothing to prove. I’m the one who feels like I’m not worthy of all he has to offer me. Because without any attachments, he has offered me the world. I’ve always been his. I don’t think there was ever any question.
“What about our deal?” I ask breathlessly, barely above a whisper.
It’s a stupid question. I don’t know why I ask it. Maybe I want some sort of reassurance that this isn’t just a game to him. Maybe I need to convince myself I still have control over the whirlwind of emotions tearing through me. But I had to ask it—for myself, for us.
His eyes lock onto mine, and the silence between us grows heavy. Our breaths are shallow, in sync with the sky’s rumbling above, but I don’t dare move. I don’t dare speak. My heart pounds in my throat. Hope builds inside me, and the weight of anticipation crushes me. I don’t blink. I don’t look away. I get lost in the depths of his brown irises that have grown to feel like a home I never knew I wanted.
With a strained, low whisper, he rasps, “This was a broken deal from the start, Blue. Because you were always destined to be mine.”
His words hit me harder than the thunder rumbling above us, and my breath catches in my throat. Every ounce of doubt I had dissolves in an instant, leaving me with nothing but the raw, overwhelming need for him. My heart races, pounding against my chest like it might burst from happiness.
The words are stuck in my throat—there’s so much I want to say, but I don’t know how. My body takes a life of its own, and before I realize it, I wrap my arms around his neck and crash my lips against his. The kiss is explosive and desperate, like never before. Lorenzo’s hand tightens around the nape of my neck, anchoring me to him, while the other slips down to my lower back, pulling me flush against him. I can feel every muscle of his body against mine with how drenched our clothes are. His tongue invades my mouth, and I melt into him, into his firm yet soft lips and the way our tongues dance with each other. I can’t get enough. Every time his lips meet mine, it’s like my heart flutters uncontrollably. I’m losing myself in him. And I simply don’t care.
My fingers tangle in his damp hair, pulling him closer still, causing him to groan, which I eagerly swallow with my lips. Heat pools in my stomach, and I feel like I’m on fire despite the cool rain cascading over us. The intensity of it all makes me feel alive in a way I never thought possible, like every nerve is awake, every sensation heightened. He takes a step back, a whimper bubbling out of me at the miss of his lips on mine.
With a ragged breath, he asks, “Is that a yes, Blue?”
“That’s a yes, Ace,” I say with a smile so big it makes my cheeks hurt.
He brings me in for another kiss, and we get lost in each other’s bodies. All. Night. Long.