Chapter 28 #2
I need to thank Professor Brightman for putting us in the same group in the beginning of the semester. All this is thanks to him, really.
Our group’s crammed into one long row. Sophie’s next to me, then Grant and Declan, and they are already chatting like they’ve been best friends since kindergarten.
Grant’s like that—loud, golden retriever energy, makes himself at home with anyone in five minutes flat.
Declan’s more low key but clearly vibing with him.
At the end of class, Professor Brightman tells us to check our group grades on the class portal.
We got an A. I nudge Sophie’s knee with mine. “Told you.”
She doesn’t look at me, but that tiny proud smile curves her lips before she hides it behind her laptop. God, I love seeing that smile.
Grant leans forward. “A, baby. Let’s go!”
That’s when Ella struts in. She clocks our whole group sitting together and zeroes in on Sophie. She makes her way over slowly, arms folded, wearing that smug little smile like she’s about to stir shit just for the fun of it.
“Well,” she says, gaze sweeping over our row. “Good job, team.”
She turns her eyes to Sophie. “Wow, Sylvie, finally gave up on being the school mascot? First time I’ve seen you not wrapped in Westcliffe gear.”
I tense before I can even think, already half-turning to say something, but Sophie beats me to it. She’s calm, cool, and lethal.
“It’s Micah’s. I slept over at his apartment,” she says smoothly. “I didn’t have clothes to wear after a messy night with him, so I just grabbed something from his closet.”
My jaw drops. This is not what I was expecting her to say.
Sophie looks at me with those beautiful brown eyes that make me melt.
Grant practically chokes. “Oh shit,” he wheezes, dragging it out like he’s watching a live roast. “Which part was messy?”
“My dessert,” I answer before Sophie can, smirking as I lean back in my seat.
Ella ignores me, her eyes snapping back to Sophie. “Did finally getting some dick put some confidence in that little head of yours?”
Sophie doesn’t flinch. She doesn’t even look at Ella. “Not just any dick. Micah’s. Big difference. But you wouldn’t know.”
Now I almost choke. What’s gotten into her? I can’t help but smile like an idiot.
Ella’s smile sharpens. “Careful, Sylvie. That smug act won’t last. He’ll get bored. He always does.”
Sophie tilts her head, unbothered, and finally looks at her.
“And how would you know? It’s not like he ever took a second look at you.
Speaking of which, I’d really appreciate it if you stopped drooling over my boyfriend.
It’s painful to look at, really.” She leans her head against my shoulder, casual as anything, like Ella’s not even worth the energy.
I’m so damn proud of her—how she’s standing up for herself, how unshaken she looks, how she somehow makes me fall even harder, which I didn’t think was possible. I let my fingers brush along her thigh, just needing to touch her. Needing her to know how proud I am.
Ella’s lips twitch like she’s trying to smile but can’t. “I give it a month. Maybe two.”
Sophie shrugs. “Maybe. But even then? He’ll never go to you.”
It’s a kill shot.
Ella bristles, one second from snapping, and that’s when I finally speak.
“Ouch,” I murmur, still looking at Sophie. “Have some faith in me, baby. I’m not going anywhere. I’m here to stay.”
Then I glance at Ella—just briefly. “You still here?”
Her jaw tightens before she scoffs and walks off like the conversation’s not worth her time. But she doesn’t say another word.
Grant whistles low. “Damn, Lenny. You had a messy night, and Mic here is grinning like an idiot. What the hell did you do to him?”
Sophie doesn’t say a word. She just reaches over and laces her fingers through mine, holding on tight like she means it.
I grin, pressing a kiss to her hand. “What can I say? We have a lot of fun.”
My phone buzzes while I go through the daily recap email from Marianne.
It's Nico.
I answer before the second ring. “Nico.”
“He's been spotted near her building,” Nico says, his voice low and careful. “Second time this week. Once two days ago, once this morning. I didn't want to call until I was sure, but he’s definitely up to something.”
“Yeah, Nico. He showed up to Boston Brews yesterday.” My blood goes cold. “Is he at the apartment now?”
“No. He’s at a diner in the next town over. We were able to get a tracker on his phone. I’ll text you the details.” A beat. “But Sophie's not at the apartment either, for what it's worth.”
“I know. She's with me.” I glance toward the hallway. The bedroom light is off. “She's asleep.”
“Micah.” His voice turns cautious. “You need to tell her everything you know.”
I don't answer right away.
The thing is—I've thought about it. More than once.
I've rehearsed the version where I sit her down and explain everything calmly, where she takes it in and we figure it out together. But every time I try, I see her face the night of the panic attack. The way she couldn't breathe. The way she shook like her body had forgotten how to stop being afraid. And I think—not yet. Not until I have something concrete to tell her—that I’ve already handled it and she doesn’t have to worry anymore.
“I'll handle it,” I say.
Nico exhales. It's not agreement, but he doesn't push.
“I'll be in touch,” I say, and hang up.
I set the phone down on the counter.
Tomorrow should be straightforward. Sophie's moving in. I’ll ask her to wait for me to take my exam so we can go to her place together to get the rest of her things after. She'll be here when I get back. Safe.
My dad's already breathing down my neck. Missing an exam and risking lowering my GPA isn't an option—he'd use it as ammunition for weeks. I can’t give him another reason I'm distracted or another reason Sophie’s a liability. I don't have the energy for that fight right now.
She'll be fine. I'll be quick. I won't let her go there without me.
Still, I don't think I’ll be able to get any sleep tonight.