Until Him: Book 3 - Until Then Series

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Until Him: Book 3 - Until Then Series Page 17

by Victoria Ashlee


  “Ok.” I mirrored the assistant's smile again, standing up. “Thank you for telling me. I will see you later.”

  “Wait where are you going?”

  I stopped walking, “Olivia, I’ve been through more than most people go through in a lifetime. Stefan left me at one of the worst times in my life and I'm still trying to pick up the pieces. I just don’t feel like talking about anything to do with him.”

  She held her eyes on mine, “My dear, I don’t doubt your pain, but he’s going through one of the worst times in his life at the same exact time. He’s trying to pick up his own pieces.”

  I stared at her. Guilt ran over me because I hadn’t thought of it that way. His world did fall apart the same day mine did. His entire family fell apart. His mother could barely hold it together that night. I felt tears forming, and bit my bottom lip.

  I huffed, “Then why would he leave? Why would he go to London?”

  “Do you run away when you get scared?”

  “No.”

  “You ran the night of Henry’s arrest, did you not?”

  I narrowed my eyes at her.

  “He ran away, Sophia. He was scared. That man you know might be a strong, powerful, headstrong man, but he’s still a boy who lost half of his family that day.”

  “I..” I took a deep breath. “He didn’t give me a chance to be there for him. He left. He wouldn’t speak to me. I tried to see him, but he had me escorted from his building.”

  She shook her head, “I can’t explain his actions. I just know he didn’t leave to hurt you.”

  “Are we done here?”

  She stood, “Yes.”

  “Thanks for letting me know about Thomas, I’m sorry I snapped at you.”

  She smiled, “It’s ok, Dear. Take care of yourself. I’ll be in touch.”

  Stefan

  The flat I rented was in central London. I figured the busier the area, the better. I hoped the city would drown everything out, but it never did. My thoughts always came back to her. Wondering what she was doing.

  I found myself at another bar every other night. It was lonely being in this city. My Mum was in New York still, my father and brother in jail. My Nan made her way back to Nebraska. And then there was me, the golden child. I raised my glass to my lips. Tim didn’t follow me here, I refused to let him. Although I could really use his company right now.

  I don’t know what I thought I would get out of coming to London. I just needed to remove myself from her life. The reporters weren’t as bad over here. People knew me, but it was nothing like New York.

  I glanced over at the two girls that kept staring at me. One started walking in my direction. I sighed, finishing off my drink as I stood.

  “Hey.” The brunette smiled. She was cute enough, but I wasn’t in the market.

  I grabbed my jacket, “I’m leaving.”

  “That’s too bad, my friend and I thought you were pretty cute.”

  “Thanks, but I really have to go.”

  She was playing with the end strands of her hair, “I don’t think you understand. We both are interested.”

  I laughed, “Are you offering me a threesome?”

  She smirked, “We like it rough.”

  “I’m sorry you’re not my type.”

  She huffed, with her hand on her hip, “Well then what is your type?”

  “Her name is Sophia and you are not her. Have a good night.” I nodded, walking towards the door, her gaze stayed on me until I was out of sight.

  I wasn’t far from my flat, so I decided to walk. The temperature had dropped. I put my hands in my pockets, as I crossed the street. I was trying to remember the last time I stayed in London for an extended amount of time. I think it was when Jess and I started dating. We spent the whole summer here. We thought nothing could touch us.

  I thought my hazy eyes were playing tricks on me as I walked down the street getting closer to my flat. A girl in a long blue jacket was waiting outside my door. That red hair I would know from anywhere. Were her ears burning? I was just thinking about her.

  “Jess?” I said as I approached her.

  She spun around, “Hey, you!”

  I pulled my keys from my pocket, “What are you doing here?”

  “I’ve been sent on a mission.”

  “Come in.” I opened the door, “What kind of mission?”

  She followed behind, “To convince you to come home.”

  I laughed, “Who sent you on this impossible mission?”

  “Your Mother.”

  I set my keys down on the coffee table, “How does that not surprise me?”

  She laughed, “She never changes.”

  She sat down on the sofa, “Have you been drinking?”

  “Maybe.” I said, as I poured a drink at the small bar in my living room. “How could you tell?” I smirked.

  “I could smell it on you when we walked in.”

  I held the cup under my nose, pretending to smell, “Ahh the sweet aroma of numbness.”

  “Is that what you’re trying to do? Numb yourself out of love?”

  I shot her a look, “I never said anything about love.”

  She eyed me with a judgment as she stood, “Well if you’re not going to offer me a drink, I’ll make one myself.”

  I waved my hand, “Go right ahead, nothing has ever stopped you from getting what you want before.”

  “Except Sophia.”

  When she said it you could feel the sting of emotions in the air from both of us.

  “Please don’t bring her up.”

  She sat back down with her drink, “Why? She’s the reason you’re here, isn’t she?”

  I waved my glass around, “I’m here because I can do whatever I want.”

  “I’ve never seen you run away from a challenge before.”

  I sat up, “It’s not a fucking challenge.” I took another sip. “Actually no. I want to know something. Why did you tell Sophia the code to Thomas’s computer?”

  “You wouldn’t understand even if I tried to explain it. You’d just turn it around and say I was trying to hurt her.”

  “Weren’t you?”

  “No. The opposite.”

  I leaned back into the chair, “You struck the match that burned her to the ground.”

  She laughed annoyed, “Your family doused her in gasoline long before that night, and again no I did not do that to hurt her.”

  I looked away from her, “I don’t want to talk to you anymore.”

  “Tough luck. I’m not letting you be destructive this time.” She stood, grabbing the cup from my hand, “You’re sobering up, starting now.”

  I clenched my jaw staring at her, “You’re fucking annoying.”

  “She’s never going to want you back in this state.”

  “Trust me, she doesn’t want me.”

  She cleared her throat, “Look here you little bitch, I did not fly all the way across the ocean to convince the man I love to get his life together for the woman he loves, which is not me. Now get out of this chair and go get in the shower!”

  “Why would you do this for me?”

  “Because I know you better than most people, we’ve known each other since we were five. You love this girl, and you won’t find another one like her. Now you can spend your whole life in a loveless marriage, or you can straighten up your pity party and get it together.”

  I stood from the chair, “Fine I’ll sober up, but I’m not going back to the States.”

  She shot me a look, “We’ll see about that.”

  Chapter Twenty Six

  Sophia

  Friday’s work day ended. I picked up food on the way home. Cooking sounded like more of a chore tonight. I set the bag down on the floor, as I fumbled with my keys to unlock my apartment. The conversation with Olivia kept haunting me. He’s in pain, he’s running. But he chose to leave, not the other way around. I was here. I tried.

  Tristen’s door swung open, “Hey!”

  I jumped
, dropping my keys. “Fuck, Tristen. Did you have to scare me?”

  “Why are you so jumpy?”

  “I’m not; I just had a long day.” I picked my keys back up, putting the key into the lock on the first try.

  “Let me make it better by taking you to dinner.”

  “I have dinner.” I pointed to the bag on the floor.

  He scrunched his nose, “Mmm 99 cent heart attack in a bag.”

  I grabbed the bag. “It was on the way home.” I held the door open for him to follow me.

  “I thought you were on a health kick with all your running?”

  “It’s more of an emotional cleanse.”

  He laughed, “What is? The fried food or the running?”

  I set the bag down, “Can I say both?”

  He leaned on the counter, “How about this, it’s Friday night, let me take you out.”

  I shot him a look, “Not a good idea.”

  He walked around the counter taking my hand, “Why not? It’ll be great.” He walked into the living room. “Picture this,” he waved his hand in the air, “We start the night out at a nice Italian dinner, then make our way to get ice cream, and then maybe a little dancing. We can paint the town red.” He gave me his side smile.

  I let out an obvious breath, “I don’t think I’m ready to go on any dates yet.”

  He stepped closer to me, “You won’t ever be ready. You just have to rip it off like a Band-Aid.”

  I laughed under my breath, “And you’d like that Band-Aid to be you?”

  “Well I’d hope you’d view me as more appealing than an old Band-Aid.”

  A slow smile formed on my face. I couldn’t help it. He was just a stupid form of charming.

  “So is that a yes?” He raised his eyebrow.

  I sighed, “I guess so.”

  He was satisfied with my answer, giving me a look of triumph. “Be ready in two hours.” He said as he walked to the door.

  “What do I wear?”

  He stopped holding the door ajar, “A nice dress should work.”

  “Ok.” I smiled. He shut the door, leaving me alone. “Don’t say that to a girl, I’ll show up in pajamas.” I quoted from the night Stefan asked me out on our first official date. He told me he didn’t care what I wore. Every single thing reminded me of him.

  Two hours later I was dressed in a deep red dress, my hair curled, heels latched, and lipstick on. I stared at my reflection in the mirror. Was I really doing this? I knew I wasn’t ready. I was still closed off emotionally, but is it really like ripping a Band-Aid off? Will I feel better after? Will I feel different?

  I walked out into my empty living room; I should really get some furniture. I set my clutch next to my purse, swapping the contents. I looked at the time on my phone. It’s been two hours, and he hasn’t come to tell me he’s ready.

  I picked up my clutch, and walked across the hall to his door. I knocked a few times, but he didn’t answer and I didn’t hear anyone inside when I pressed my ear up to the door. Gosh I probably look like a desperate psycho. I dialed Tristen’s number, but he didn’t answer. Am I getting stood up? This can’t be real?

  Just when I was about to walk back into my apartment, I heard the elevator ding. I looked down the hall and saw Tristen walking off of it, carrying yellow roses.

  I smiled, “I thought you stood me up.”

  “Never.” He switched the roses from one hand to the other, bringing me into a hug. “A guy can’t start his first date off without flowers. Who do you think I am?”

  I laughed, “They’re very pretty.”

  “I didn’t get red because I didn’t want to come on too strong.”

  I looked at him funny, “What do you mean?”

  “Red roses are the staple of love, yellow means friendship. I Googled it, it’s true.”

  “Ah, you did your research.” Something about that made me feel a spark, but not enough to light a fire in me.

  “Let me put them in water, before we leave.” I took the flowers from him, and walked back into my apartment. I quickly realized I didn’t have a vase, so I filled up the sink with water and set the flowers in it leaning on the side.

  When I walked back into the hall, Tristen was leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets. He held his arm out for me to take it as we walked toward the elevator.

  “I forgot to tell you that you look beautiful tonight.”

  I smiled, “Thank you. You look pretty good yourself.”

  He shimmied his shoulders, “Did Sophia Brooks just call me handsome? I’ll have to put that in the history books.”

  I rolled my eyes as we stepped onto the elevator.

  When we got downstairs a limo was waiting on us. I don’t know why it surprised me. He said he had them at his leisure; we did use one just to move my stuff across town. The driver held the door open for us as we slid into the seats. It felt weird; I was so used to Tim being my driver when I did use one. This driver was strange and new. Tristen didn’t greet him how Stefan knew Tim. I missed the familiarity of Tim.

  Tristen leaned forward opening a bottle of champagne. I smiled. He’s pulling out all the stops tonight, isn’t he? He handed me a glass, leaning back in the seat next to me.

  He took a sip of his drink, “I hope you like cooking your own food.”

  “I thought the point of going to dinner was to not cook.”

  He laughed, “I’m joking.”

  The restaurant was dimly lit; the booths were high creating full privacy. Tristen ordered us a bottle of red. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that I didn’t like red. I stared down at the menu not understanding any of the words. What kind of gibberish is this? I started to realize that this is one of those extremely fancy restaurants where they expect you to just know what stuffed duck is.

  “Did I forget how to read? I can’t understand the menu.”

  He smirked looking up from his, “It’s Italian. I was wondering when you were going to say something.”

  I gave him a look, “And you can read it better than I can?”

  “In realtà molto bene, dolcezza.”

  My eyes went wide, “Wait, you can speak Italian?”

  He laughed, “Yes.”

  “What did you say to me?”

  He leaned closer to me, “Actually very well, My Sweet.”

  I shook my head, “You would know how to speak Italian, wouldn’t you?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  I huffed, “You just don’t seem real. None of you seem real.”

  “Who are the you?”

  I held out my hand to count on my fingers, “You, Leo, Stefan, Jess. You all come from money, you’re all very intelligent, and now you speak Italian? Come on, that’s just made up movie material.”

  He laughed, “And you’re the small town girl that fell into our world? Who are you? Dan Humphrey?”

  I rolled my eyes, “Don’t worry I don’t have a secret blog about all your drama. And did you just reference Gossip Girl?”

  He eyed me, “Keira watches it.”

  I smiled, “Mhmm, I just found out your guilty pleasure.”

  He looked up from his menu again, “You’re my guilty pleasure.”

  I almost choked on the red wine that I hated the taste of. My face flushed. “Tristen…”

  “Ok, the timing was bad.”

  I held my menu up, “Let’s just figure out what we’re going to eat. Can you translate please?” I smiled trying to ease the tension.

  We walked out of the restaurant laughing. The food was amazing, and we finished the bottle of wine. Tristen was good company. We decided to walk to get ice cream. Tristen reached out to take my hand, and to my surprise I let him.

  We sat at a bistro table outside the ice cream parlor. I ordered strawberry, Tristen ordered vanilla.

  I looked down at my dress then back to him, “We sure do look like a sight.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “We’re dressed very fancy and
were at an ice cream shop.”

  “Fancy people like ice cream too.”

  I licked my cone, “Yes, but it’s normally paired with a side of caviar.”

  He gave me a disgusted face, “I don’t know what fancy people you hang out with, but I can assure you that I have never had ice cream and caviar at the same time.”

  I laughed, “You’re just not that fancy then.”

  He rolled his eyes, taking a bite of his cone.

  Our next stop was a small bar, Tristen knew the bouncer, and he let us bypass the line. It was a smaller club; the dance floor was in the middle of the room. Three of the walls were lined with bars; the walls behind the bar were illuminated in blue with bottles of alcohol on clear shelves. We walked up to the closest bar, Tristen ordered a whiskey, I ordered vodka water.

  A group of guys were across the room. One waved Tristen over. He took my hand leading me around the outskirts of the dance floor toward the group.

  “Tris, you made it, and with a vision in red on your arm.” One of the guys said.

  Tristen greeted him, “I did. Sven this is Sophia.” He gestured to me, and then turned to speak to me, “Soph, this is Sven. He’s one of my oldest friends.”

  I smiled, “Nice to meet you.”

  “And this is Finn and Liam.” He pointed to the two other guys. They all loomed over me in height. I felt very small surrounded by them. Sven was blonde like Tristen. Finn had longer wavy black hair, and Liam had a close shaved cut. They both nodded with a smile.

  I took a sip of my drink looking around the room. My ears caught what Sven whispered to Tristen, although I tried to pretend I didn’t hear it.

  Sven leaned over to Tristen’s ear, “Tris, is that Stefan’s Sophia?”

  “What if it is?”

  “You just like to have a challenge don’t you?”

  Tristen smirked, “Challenges are my favorite.”

  My face dropped, I took another sip of my drink. I couldn’t just storm off, but I was fuming. Did that prick just call me a challenge?

  A while passed and we were seated in the VIP section. Girls came and went flirting with the guys. I became bored of the conversations. Tristen became a different person around his friends, I no longer felt special. My haze that made me forget my heart ache disappeared. It was 1AM.

 

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