7. Sophia
7
SOPHIA
I wake up to the faint hum of voices downstairs, mingling with the rich aroma of coffee and cinnamon. It’s Cassidy’s wedding day, and the house is buzzing with an energy that’s both chaotic and joyful. My chest tightens as I swing my legs over the side of the bed. I’ve never been much for weddings—too many memories, too many ghosts—but this one’s different. This one’s for my sister.
The last two days have been extremely hectic with the last-minute preparations. This morning goes the same way—a blur of makeup brushes, curling irons, and laughter. Cassidy looks radiant, her brown curls cascading over her shoulders, a soft halo of baby’s breath woven into her hair. Her eyes sparkle with a mixture of excitement and nerves, and her smile is as bright as the snow-covered peaks outside. “Soph, do you think Mark will cry?” she asks, her voice trembling with an edge of vulnerability.
I smirk, smoothing a wrinkle from her ivory dress. “If he doesn’t, I’ll pinch him hard enough to make sure he does.”
Her laughter is music, a balm to the tension curling in my stomach. It’s not the ceremony or the reception I’m dreading—it’s him. Ray.
The ceremony is perfect. Cassidy and Mark exchange vows under a wooden arch adorned with pine branches and white roses. The backdrop of Mammoth Lakes is almost too picture-perfect; the jagged mountains are framed by a sky so blue that it looks like a painting. I sit in the front row beside my parents—Betty, graceful and poised as ever in her navy dress, and John, his silver hair catching the sunlight as he fights back tears.
Ben leans in to whisper in my ear, “Cass has a knack for causing trouble. You think Mark’s flawless brown hair will last long?”
I snicker, biting back a laugh at my brother’s joke. Mark Robbins is a handsome man. His dark suit fits him impeccably, accentuating his broad shoulders and lean frame. There’s an ease to him, a natural charm in the way he moves, and when Cassidy walks toward him, his expression softens into something unguarded and real. He’s a good man. The kind of man who knows how to make my sister happy, even if his polished demeanor makes him seem too perfect at times.
The reception is held in a glass-walled ballroom that glows like a lantern as the sun sets. Fairy lights strung across the ceiling twinkle above us. The tables, adorned with evergreen sprigs, white candles, and shimmering gold accents, seat the three hundred guests. When the daughter of the town’s favorite, though retired, mayor marries a beloved local doctor, such a crowd is expected.
I take a sip of champagne, the bubbles tickling my throat as I watch Cassidy and Mark share their first dance. Their happiness is contagious, but it doesn’t fill the hollow ache in my chest.
Ray’s here. Somewhere. I’ve caught glimpses of him throughout the day—a flash of his strong profile as he stood at the edge of the ceremony, the way the sunlight glinted off his auburn, tousled hair. Now, he’s across the room, leaning against a column with that quiet intensity that draws eyes without effort. He looks like he belongs in a different world, his sharp jawline and brooding presence a stark contrast to the light and warmth around us.
“Ready for your turn?” a deep voice pulls me from my thoughts. Mark stands beside me, his hand extended. Up close, his confidence is disarming, but there’s a playfulness in his eyes that puts me at ease. “Bride’s orders. No sitting out this dance.”
I laugh despite myself and take his hand. Mark leads me to the dance floor, and as we sway to the soft strains of a piano, he keeps the conversation light, cracking jokes about his disastrous attempts at learning the waltz for the reception. His charm is easy to see now, as is the way he makes Cassidy laugh and puts everyone around him at ease.
“You’re a good dancer,” I admit, trying to focus on the moment instead of the weight in my chest.
He grins. “Cassidy would disagree. She says I have two left feet.”
“With her ballet training, she thinks everyone has two left feet.”
“True,” he concedes, spinning me lightly. “But don’t tell her I said that.”
I smile, but my gaze drifts over his shoulder, drawn like a magnet. There he is—Ray. He’s dancing with Cassidy now, his strong hand resting gently on her waist, his other hand clasping hers. There’s a tension in his posture, a restraint that makes my pulse quicken. He’s not just a man; he’s a storm barely held in check. And when his dark eyes lift and meet mine, it feels like the air’s been sucked out of the room.
Mark notices the change in my focus and follows my gaze. “Ray, huh?” he says quietly, his tone unreadable.
I stiffen. “What about him?”
Mark shrugs, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. “Nothing. Just... interesting choice.”
I lift an eyebrow. “Choice of what?”
Before Mark can respond, Cassidy and Ray approach, and the switch happens so seamlessly that I don’t have time to protest. One moment I’m in Mark’s arms; the next, I’m facing Ray, my hand in his, my heart hammering against my ribs. “Hey,” he says, his voice low and rough.
“Hey,” I manage, my voice barely above a whisper.
His hand tightens around mine, his other hand resting lightly on my waist, and suddenly the room feels too warm, too bright. The space between us is almost nonexistent, his body heat radiating through the thin fabric of my dress. He moves with a fluid grace, his eyes never leaving mine, and it’s all I can do to keep my breathing steady.
The music fades into the background, the laughter and clinking glasses around us melting away until it’s just him and me. His thumb brushes against the back of my hand, a small, deliberate motion that sends a shiver down my spine. There’s something dark in his gaze, a mix of desire and longing that pulls me in even as it warns me to stay away.
“Why do I get the feeling you’re trying to avoid me?” he asks in a voice so soft it reminds me of velvet.
I swallow hard to avoid telling him I don’t trust myself around him. I don’t understand why my knees turn to jelly, and my blood rushes in my veins whenever Ray gets near me. I deal with attractive men every single day. Their beauty does nothing to my libido. But when Ray’s deep-set baby-blue eyes lock onto mine, all I want is to surrender to the heat in them.
Forcing a wry smile, I reply, “Paranoid much?”
His lips curve into something that’s almost a smile, but there’s no humor in it. “Or maybe you’re scared of what happens if you don’t avoid me.”
My breath catches, and I can’t find the words. He’s too close, his presence too overwhelming, and yet I can’t bring myself to pull away. The air between us hums with tension, the unspoken weight of everything we’ve been through, everything we’re not saying.
The music shifts, a faster tempo pulling other couples into twirls and spins, but we stay locked in place, moving to a rhythm that’s entirely our own. His grip tightens, pulling me closer, and I can feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat against mine.
“Ray...” I start, but the words falter on my tongue.
He leans in, his breath warm against my ear. “Tell me to stop, Sophia. Tell me to let go.”
I should. I know I should. But I don’t. I can’t. My silence hangs between us, heavy and telling, and when he finally pulls back to look at me, his eyes are filled with raw passion and scorching desire.
The moment stretches, the rest of the world forgotten. He steps back, releasing me as the song ends. I tell myself this attraction I feel is one-sided and get ready to say goodbye. Surprising me, Ray offers his hand. As I take it, he leads the way through the crowded space to a side door hidden behind the panels of flowers. My heart pounds against my ribcage as I walk past him while he holds the door for me. It closes behind us with a soft thud, and he bolts it.
The loud clank echoes in my ears, mingling with the thunder of my heartbeat. His gaze traps mine, and for a moment, neither of us moves. The space between us crackles, charged, until he steps forward, his hand rising to cup my jaw.
Every instinct tells me to step back, to breathe, to stop this before it starts. But I can’t. I’m frozen, drawn to him like a moth to a flame.
Before I have time to decide, Ray pulls me against his hard body, his lips claiming mine with raw intensity. Fire and ice flood my veins as I spear my fingers through his hair. He yanks at mine, and I melt. He walks us backward until I’m propped against a wall, its coolness seeping through the silk of my dress. Heat pools low in my belly, my knees weakening as his lips devour me. I cling to him, my body a riot of sensations I can’t contain.
“Fuck, that’s hot!” I groan, sucking his lower lip. When he chuckles against the sensitive skin of my neck, I beg, “Please, don’t stop.”
“I’m just starting, gorgeous,” he promises, his hands sliding down my curves as he kneels in front of me, his gaze blazing with intent.