Chapter 20
Pace
Only after ensuring Sophie nibbled her way through half the board, the kid made did I start to relax.
It didn’t matter what she told me, today had been my fault.
This wasn’t what I’d intended, not by a long shot.
When I’d thought about how this day would go, I imagined her getting cash and then spending time in the town square, looking at pumpkins and buying treats.
I didn’t expect to end up at the firehouse with those soon-to-be ex-firefighter cracking jokes and drooling over her.
Since when did they start acting like such idiots?
It didn’t help that I could hardly keep my shit together as she spoke. Her body was something drafted from my deepest fantasies. Thighs and hips for sturdy gripping, big sensitive breasts to gently toy with for hours, bringing her to the brink of pleasure just by teasing her . . .
“It’s like I can feel you blaming yourself for this,” she said.
And I instantly felt shame. That’s what I should have been feeling.
It was all that repeated through my brain before she took that sweater off.
But then the sudden desire that pulsed through me took me by surprise.
I’d been trying to deny my growing attraction to her, telling myself she was beautiful but not for me, but the second that sweater came off, it was like I was a teenage boy. All I thought of was boobs.
Look at her boobs. Do you think she would let me touch those boobs? And so on . . .
I punched my teenage self in the proverbial gut and got back to Sophie.
“A little,” I confessed. “Certainly not what I planned.”
She leaned forward and grabbed my hand from where I had my fist pressed against my lips, ready to hear it all.
I grunted, and it was like I had embodied Levi’s grumpy responses.
“I promise it wasn’t your fault. I only have myself to blame.” She squeezed me and went to release my hand, but I didn’t let her.
I sat next to her on the bench but kept our fingers interlocked.
“It’s really not that serious,” she said, and I winced because I had said that at some point, and I knew she was trying to convince herself as much as me.
“I walked into the bank, and right away things were off. Pam wasn’t working like we thought,” she said.
I sat up straighter. We was a nice way of saying that my instructions were wrong. “Who was it?”
“Vicky Lambert.” She glanced away with a swallow. “Do you know her?”
I nodded. “Her mom’s on the city council, right? Mrs. Wilson?”
“Yeah. She’s on every committee and organization. And her daughter is everything I’m not,” she said.
“Sophie,” I admonished.
She held up her hand and stopped me. “I just mean that she is a part of everything. She never rests, never stops.”
“Oh. Yeah.” Vicky Lambert did seem to have her fingers in a lot of pies. “I didn’t know she worked at the bank.”
“I think her mom owns that branch. I guess Pam was out sick, and she was filling in.”
I nodded, and she went on.
“Now, I hope the next part doesn’t make me sound spiteful, but you know how there are some people you just don’t click with? Like, your energies are completely opposite?”
I tried to think, but the only time I felt like that was when I tried to help Sophie and kept screwing up.
I didn’t think that was what she meant. I was drawn to Sophie in a way that reconfigured my usual system settings.
I kept stumbling through our interactions, but at the same time, I felt a closeness to her that I hadn’t felt with anybody in years.
Without meaning to, Sophie was the closest anyone had been to seeing a real version of me.
I swallowed with effort.
“You don’t know what I’m talking about.” She shook her head. “Of course not. But with her, there’s a history there. She was in our grade, do you remember?”
I nodded, though I had forgotten.
“You were probably too busy with Kaylee,” she mumbled.
Hearing my ex’s name out of Sophie’s mouth was so jarring that I stalled out for a moment.
“Vicky wasn’t exactly a bully or anything. She just seemed like she was annoyed by my presence. Like she couldn’t understand how people like me existed, like I didn’t fit in with her worldview. She had a way of making me feel even less than I already did.”
I took a deep breath in and out. I would have to remember that.
I did remember that her husband was a tool bag.
One of those guys who made condescending comments about “the old ball and chain,” thinking that was just how men talked.
Like being married was a chore and not a chance to spend every moment with your best friend.
“Vicky was one of the popular girls. Even now, she looks like she hasn’t aged.
Her skin is flawless, her hair flowing and styled to be just trendy enough without making her look a specific age,” Sophie explained as she toyed with one of my fingers.
“She was the sort of winner of the system that both loathed and appreciated losers like me because we shined a light on her inherent betterness. She was what happened to mean girls if they were never educated on how the patriarchy pits us against each other. Honestly, how do these women even exist in this day and age? If you aren’t a girl’s girl, what are you even doing? Living to impress men? Gross.”
I raised an eyebrow at her.
“Sorry. Grandma will be happy to hear of that random tangent. Even if Vicky wasn’t the worst, we’d still probably not be friends.
There are certain people who just trigger you.
Whose humor has never jived with my own.
Who every conversation with was painful.
Even if you understood why. Even if you didn’t want them to. They just did. You know?”
“I do,” I said honestly. I thought of that prick at the gym who made a pass at her. Perfect example.
“Yeah?” She seemed so surprised; I let out a breath.
“Yes, Sophie, even I don’t click with everyone.” I looked again at our threaded fingers.
Deep inside my chest, there was this strange feeling unfurling, like a rope that had been twisted tight had started to fray. It wasn’t bad at all, just unsettling. Confusing.
I should let go of our hands. This was a strange thing to be doing.
Only.
It didn’t feel strange with Sophie. It felt more natural than anything I’d done in a while.
I realized that the sensation in my chest was the opposite sensation of that painful tightening I’d been suffering from lately.
“I guess we have more in common than I originally thought.” She bumped her shoulder against mine, and we shared a long look. She cleared her throat and faced forward again.
“Anyway, I am going somewhere with this, I swear.” She groaned and hid her face into my shoulder.
I fought the desire to flex so she could feel my muscles; her nose was more important than my pride.
“Ugh. I don’t want to say this part.” She took a steadying breath in and out, and I gripped her tighter, reminding her I was there for her.
“Vicky clocked me walking in. She looked me up and down. In that way that people do very specifically to make sure you know that they are judging you. And I can’t express to you how awful that makes me feel.
It’s like I was transported back to the gym twenty years ago, noticing how thin the other girls were in their crop tops and brand-name jeans.
And I could feel her perusal. And she said something like, ‘Wow, I didn’t even recognize you.
You’ve lost so much weight.’” Sophie groaned again and shook her head.
“Which is actually the worst thing to hear, and I hate when people make such a big deal out of my late blooming. You wouldn’t believe the amount of time I’m told, ‘Wow, you look amazing,’ and then immediately after, ‘Are you eating enough?’ Like, how messed up is that?
‘You look amazing and possibly very ill!’ I was just a late bloomer.
I was raised by my grandma, and I didn’t know how to dress for my body until about a year ago, thanks to the internet.
And the sad thing is, I wasn’t even heavier back then.
I am technically heavier now. I’ve just never been that sort of skinny.
” She cut herself off with a quick shake of the head.
“But that doesn’t even matter. Because unless you were in her club of all the super skinny, low-rise-jeans wearing . . . Ugh, I’m getting off track.”
She balled her free hand, and I was overwhelmed by the need to tell her she was beautiful.
“My body was fine. There was no reason I should have carried so much shame, but to be reminded of it was instantly upsetting.”
“Vicky sounds like a small person. Metaphorically, you know?” I clarified quickly. “And small people need to make other people feel smaller,” I said honestly.
“Yeah, I know this to be true. Happy or even content people don’t go around making others feel bad about themselves.
Only deeply insecure people do. Rationally, I know this.
But at that moment, there were no years since middle school.
I was thirteen and unable to vouch for myself.
” Her shoulders heaved and dropped. “I’m too old to act like this.
There was no rational thought. There was just me being weird and unable to defend myself, frozen as the popular girl makes me feel like dirt on her shoe. ”
She sighed and this time pulled her hands back from mine to hide her face in them.
“I panicked.” Her voice muffled. “I turned to run out. And I ran smack into a pillar.”
I sucked in a breath, unable to hide my reaction. I pictured the round cement pillars placed randomly throughout the old building.
“Shit. Sophie, I should have told you—”