17. Chapter 17
17
Brody
“Just do me a favor.”
I don’t meet Miles’ eyes while I focus on the task he gave me. I hate dicing onions and he knows it. My eyes are already watering and I’ve only just begun, but I have to follow through. He said he would help me prepare dinner, so he’s been instructing me for the last twenty minutes.
“Remind you to use frozen in the future?” Miles asks. I glare at him before returning to the cutting board in front of me.
“I’m not ready to, er, share her,” I say slowly. Well, that sounded wrong. “I mean introduce you two. It feels too soon.”
“I’ll head out for the evening. Maybe see a movie. You need to dice that a little finer.” Miles grins like the smug asshole he is while he directs me around the kitchen.
Half an hour later, he’s gone and I’m standing in the kitchen, wondering if we turned off the AC for some ungodly reason. Sophie will be here in a few minutes. Miles texted me after he left to say he'll be out of the house until around midnight. Dinner is ready, but I’m not sure I can say the same for me.
I pace back and forth in front of the stove. The contents of the frying pan and the sauce pot are covered and Miles told me they will keep for a while, in case she’s late. I want to be ready and focused solely on Sophie when she arrives .
The doorbell chime grates on my nerves. Any other time, it’s a mildly annoying sound, but that’s probably because I hate answering the door. Tonight it reminds me I’m about to admit something I’ve only ever discussed with Miles and not at length. He’s tried to offer advice, even tips for a time when I might find myself naked in bed with a woman. I’ve shut him down almost every time.
Opening the door causes the dry heat of another LA August evening to hit me in a wave, but I barely feel it. Sophie is standing there, beautiful as ever in the warm glow of the sky just before sunset. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she’s dressed to make sure I know what I’m missing if I fuck this up. I know full well, but it doesn’t stop me from taking a quick look at those cut-off shorts that are just a tiny bit too short. Or at the neckline of her crop top, the scoop dropping far lower than necessary. Her hair is swept back with just a few curly tendrils framing her face. The final nail in the coffin is the dark red lipstick, standing out from her dusky complexion.
“You came.” I don’t bother to hide the relief in my voice or on my face. She has to know I had my doubts.
“I want that painting.” She flashes a smile and I’ll be damned if my heart doesn’t skip a beat or five.
I have to clear my throat before speaking again.
“Come on in.”
Sophie hesitates before stepping inside, allowing me to close the door behind her.
“Thought you’d never ask.”
When I turn, she’s eyeing the two paintings near the door.
“My roommate and I did those a few years ago,” I explain casually. I allow my eyes to roam down her back while she responds.
“Well, if that’s not an excuse to display a couple of mediocre art pieces, I don’t know what is.” She turns to face me and my gaze snaps back to hers, but she grins. She noticed.
“Mediocre?” I gasp. “How dare you? Those are our best works.”
“Please tell me they’re your only works.” Her musical laughter lightens the mood a little.
“Oh, no, my mom has the really good stuff. First grade is where I peaked.”
“Is this where you got the idea for last week?”
“I thought it might impress you.” Warmth floods my cheeks and I realize with embarrassment that I’m blushing. That only strengthens the blush. I have to turn away, leading her toward the kitchen .
“It did,” Sophie confirms. I hear her footsteps behind me, soft on the hardwood floor. “Renting out a whole event space will have that effect.”
I round the kitchen island, but instead of approaching the pans on the stove, I turn back toward her. The island is between us. I lean forward, hands on the cold, white granite, hoping it will ground me.
“I have something to-” she starts, but I speak at the same time.
“About the other night-” I stop, unable to wipe a look of surprise from my face.
“Go ahead,” she urges.
There’s something in her delicate features that worries me. I want her to go first, to help me delay the inevitable, but maybe it’s better to get this over with. I swallow before taking a ragged, stunted breath. She expects an excuse to make up for the fact that I left her alone in a cafe. I’m one hundred percent sure she’s not expecting the excuse I’m going to give her, but I hope it’s enough.
“I just- I want you to know that the other night.” I pause to lick my lips. “I didn’t run because of your job.”
Sophie cocks her head to one side, studying me. My eyes plead with her, willing her to just read my mind so I don’t have to say it, but the only person on the planet capable of that isn't here. I’m not sure I’d want him around for this anyway.
“So why did you leave me there alone?”
I flinch at the harsh tone, but Sophie doesn’t back down. Good. Good for her. She’s got fire and that’s one of the reasons I feel pulled to her.
“There’s- I, er-” The struggle is fucking real here.
“Breathe.” She takes a step around the island, just a little closer, but not close enough to touch just yet.
My tongue darts out to wet my bottom lip and I take another deep breath, this one a little steadier than the last.
“I’ve always-” I stutter, “I’ve always been kind of an introvert.” That’s an understatement. I know my words are tumbling out, spilling from my lips almost too fast to understand. But I can’t stop now or I’ll lose my nerve and then what? Kick her out? “Since high school, middle school,” I continue. “Hell, even at recess, I liked to be on my own.”
A chuckle escapes me and I hang my head, eyes focusing on my hands where they rest on the counter. I have to work hard to drag my gaze back to Sophie’s, those caramel depths pulling me in .
“I didn’t date in high school,” I continue slowly, never taking my focus from her face. “Or college, for that matter. And when my roommate and I go out, it’s…” I swallow, “it’s not usually me getting the attention.”
“Oh my god.” Her whispered words barely register.
“I didn’t- I just-”
“You’re a v-” she starts and my stomach drops. Part of me is disappointed she pieced it together, but a larger part is relieved. “A vir- God, I hate that word. You’re untainted. Ew, no.” When she sees my lips parting, my face falling, she waves her hands as if that’s enough to dissipate this sinking feeling. “I’m just trying to process. I’m not judging. Please believe me when I say I’m not judging.”
“It’s ok if you are.” My voice is weak, barely audible. I have to give her an out.
“But I’m not ,” she presses, taking another step forward. “Brody, I don’t care, trust me. I’m just realizing how much my admission last week probably scared you.”
I hang my head again, shaking it. With doubt? With relief? I’m not sure.
“This was stupid,” I mutter. “I shouldn’t have-” I force my head to raise, my eyes to meet hers again. “It’s ok if you want to leave. I'll grab your painting.”
I hate that my voice cracks with that last word. Two dates. We’ve been on two dates, not counting this one–and I’m not counting this one.
“What?” She blinks at me, startled.
“I mean I’d understand if-”
Sophie holds up a hand to silence me, circling the rest of the island. I follow her with my eyes, but my body remains stationary. I drop my focus when she gently takes my hand in hers, the heat from her touch radiating down my spine.
“Why in the world would I care about that?” she asks softly, raising my knuckles to brush her cheek.
I turn, reaching out with my free hand to grab her waist and gently pull her to me, our bodies pressed together while I lean to rest my forehead on hers. I just want to stand here like this, holding her close, breathing her in. That scent of citrus and some kind of flower–I’ll never be able to identify it in a million years–invading my senses. When she speaks, her breath flutters across my lips and chin.
“I have something I need to tell you,” she whispers.
“Something worse than having never had sex at the age of 30?” I ask with a breathy laugh. I guess now that I’ve admitted it, I can laugh about it. Funny how quickly things can change .
“Maybe.”
I lift my head, searching her face for a sign. Ok, now she’ll tell me she’s married .
“No judgment,” I say, despite the worry reforming in my stomach. She doesn't speak. “Are you already breaking up with me?” My tone is light, but I know she sees the fear in my eyes.
“No,” she says quickly, her grip on my hand tightening. “No, I just need to tell you I’m…” She bites her lip before continuing, her words staggered as they fall from her lips. “I’m seeing someone else. It’s not serious, just one date so far. But I needed you to know.”
I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. How many men ask her out on a daily basis? She could date a new guy every week, hell, every day and it would take a lifetime to work through the list. I blink at her, trying to keep my expression blank.
“Oh.” I sound like a fucking moron.
She studies me with a frown. I know it’s not the response she wanted, but what do I say? What do I do? I admitted my secret and she didn’t run. Sophie is worth the fight.
“Oh?”
“So I have competition?” I smirk, trying to remain confident. Her body relaxes in my grip.
“I guess you could say that.” A smile creeps across her lips.
“Ok.” Telling her I’m up for the challenge would be a lie, but I’ll give it my best shot. If nothing else, I’m more determined than ever to make up for last week.
“Well, that was easy.”
A nervous laugh escapes her. I drag my hand from her waist up to her cheek, cupping her face. My other hand turns in hers and she grips my wrists.
My lips crash to hers, releasing every bit of pent-up worry and need into this one kiss. It’s unlike anything I’ve shared with anyone before, even her. Frantic and demanding, I decide to take control–something I’ve been wanting to do since I watched her walk into that brewery just over a week ago. Using my tongue, I part her lips and she complies, allowing me to explore her mouth. She moans into me and the sound causes my dick to instantly perk up. It’s not a new feeling–I’m human–but this is the first time I’ve felt the freedom to act on it.
I move my hands back to grip her hair, holding her tightly to me. I turn us so that her back is against the counter and her hands fall to my waist, to steady herself, to pull me closer. I drop one hand from her hair to caress her neck, her shoulder, her upper arm. I want to feel every single inch of her silky skin beneath my fingers .
When I break the kiss and pull away, we’re both panting. I’m still pressed against her and I know she feels what the kiss has done to me pushing gently against her stomach. I’m not sure what she wants, if I should continue to take control. How the fuck do I ask?
“Sophie,” I breathe, my lips ghosting over hers before I trail kisses down her chin to her jaw, continuing to the point where it meets her neck. I’m not sure why I do it, but I gently graze my teeth over her skin. Goosebumps erupt beneath my hand on her arm.
“Tell me what you need.” Her voice is half whimper and I feel her squirm slightly, but not in an attempt to escape. “What can I do?”
I pull my lips from her skin, dropping my forehead to the crook of her neck. I can’t think straight anymore. She’s intoxicating.
“Sophie, I-I don’t-” A frustrated grunt slips from my throat. I raise my head far enough to see her whole face. Her pupils are dilated, her lips swollen and parted. “I need-” My voice cuts out. “Fuck,” I whisper.
Sophie reaches up, gently stroking my temple, running her fingers into my hair. I lean into her touch, closing my eyes momentarily. When I open them again, I see that the fire in her eyes matches exactly what I’m feeling. It alleviates any last shred of doubt–at least for the time being.
“I need you,” I choke.
Sophie’s grip on my waist tightens.
“Not to put a damper on things,” she whispers with a grin. “I want to, but-” She bites her lip and it hits me.
“Testing!” I shout, startling both of us with the volume. We never discussed it, but that has to be what she wants. “Sorry. I, er, yeah. I got tested last week. I can pull up the results.”
This is quite possibly the weirdest thing I’ve ever done. Stopping ourselves from tearing each others’ clothes off to pick up our phones and share test results–not something I’d considered having to do. I make a mental note to thank Miles tomorrow for making me go last week.
Satisfied with my results, she shows me her proof, hiding her stage name from me. I wonder if she’ll ever let me see her videos. The idea of her being with someone else feels odd, but I suppose it could also be exciting.
“Now that I’ve sufficiently ruined the mood,” she giggles, setting her phone on the counter. I set mine next to it.
“Not at all. Safety first.”
Sophie hums in agreement .
“I know you promised me dinner, but I’m…” She bites her lip and rakes her eyes over me. My erection has only grown and there’s no hiding it from her gaze, but she keeps her eyes moving. “...not so hungry anymore.”
She’s in my arms again. Our mouths battle for control, Sophie meeting my movements. Her arms are caught between us. I have one hand on her hip and the other is tangled in her hair again–which is a mess, but a very sexy mess. Her back is facing my bedroom hallway, so I begin to walk her toward it, thankful I left my door open.
Sophie stumbles after a few steps, so I spin us, dragging her backward with me while we’re still attached at the lips. I don’t want to stop kissing her, worried if we break the spell a second time, I may lose my nerve. She giggles against my lips as we cross the threshold and I flip on the light. Finally pulling my mouth from hers, I let her take a look around the room. It’s sparse, with just a few furnishings and some family pictures on the wall above the bed. I run a hand through my hair, trying not to reach out for her.
“You just gonna stand there?” she asks, putting a hand on her hip.