Sophie punches him in the shoulder. “Hey! I’m back now. That counts for something, doesn’t it?”
I nod, even though no one is paying attention to me. I scan Sophie from head to toe, taking every inch of her amazing body in. There’s something different about her. I mean I know she blossomed, so to speak, but it’s not just her body that’s different. She carries herself with a confidence she didn’t have when we were kids. It’s intimidating and intriguing all at once.
As excited as I am to have her back, caution alarms are going off in my head. Why did she come back, now, after all these years? Is she staying long?
“Awwwww,” Mallory coos, “You’re like Romeo and Juliette, fated in the stars. Well, you know, without the dying part.”
I shake my head. Only Mallory would find that tragedy romantic. My finger brushes against Sophie’s wrist. She turns her head to me. The right corner of her lip twitches, as if she’s fighting a smile. Seeking her hand with mine, our fingers tangle together and I pull her towards the living room; not caring one bit we just abandoned Beau and Mallory mid-conversation. Sophie looks over her shoulder and waves apologetically before picking up her pace to be at my side. She sits down beside me, her body only inches from mine, with one leg underneath her and the other dangling off the couch.
“How long have you been back?” I ask, a little too enthusiastically.
Calm down.
Keep your cool.
She’s just a girl.
Lie.
She’s the girl.
“About a week. I ran into Rob and Jess at Winn-Dixie last Saturday. Rob recognized me almost immediately. They invited me to a party that night, but I had too much to do and never made it.”
A week? Sophie’s been back a whole week and I didn’t know! How could I have not noticed? My heart pounds in my ears, nearly drowning out the sound of her voice.
“How’s Nichole?” she asks, pulling me from my thoughts.
A feeling of dread washes over me. I look down at my hands, wishing I had something to occupy them. “Mom died about a year after you left.”
Sophie gasps, then throws her arms around my neck. She buries her face into my shoulder, squeezing me so hard I can’t breathe.
Only Rob and Beau know how truly devastated I was after mom died. My mom was my best friend, aside from Sophie, when I was a kid. She raised me on her own. And then one day, out of the blue, she said she was sick, cancer. I was thirteen at the time. I knew what cancer was, but I didn’t think she’d die. I mean, she was my mom, she couldn’t die.
But she did.
Child services put me in the foster system for a few weeks while they tracked down my dad. Turned out he’s lived in town my whole life, but he didn’t want anything to do with me back then. Still doesn’t.
“Kevin, I’m so sorry,” she whispers into my shoulder.
Cool moisture dampens my shirt collar. Warmth spread through me knowing that she still cares about mom. I rub small circles against the soft skin of her lower back beneath the hem of her shirt.
“Don’t cry, it’s alright. She died a long time ago.”
Sophie pulls back and nods. She wipes her cheeks with the back of her hand. “Sorry,” she says, through a breathy laugh, “Nichole was like a second mom to me. I didn’t mean to get emotional.”
I tentatively put my hand on Sophie’s knee and bring the other to her face. My thumb brushes against her cheek, wiping away a stray tear and her big green eyes look up at me. She nibbles on her bottom lip, leaving a wetness behind as it slips from between her teeth. My eyes fall to her mouth and the air between us heats.
“You want to go somewhere quieter?” Sophie asks. She reaches her hand out and touches my arm. “You look… uncomfortable.”
I am uncomfortable.
My heart hurts for my mother.
Oddly, at the same time it’s racing because of how close Sophie is.
Our gazes are still tangled together, heating the longer they hold.
“Can’t, I rode with Beau tonight. I’m kind of stuck until he’s ready to go.”
That’s a lie. Beau couldn’t care less if I stay or if I go. Right now, leaving with Sophie could go two ways. One, nothing happens between us and I’m instantly put in the friend-zone. Two, we go somewhere quiet and I make a move. Which would be great if I wasn’t terrified she’d shoot me down. Normally rejection wouldn’t bother me, but this is my Red.
Sophie scoots back, just out of reach. “Oh, ok.” Her eyes glass over. She looks around the room then over my shoulder, refusing to give me eye contact.
What is she thinking?
Sophie looks down at her watch. “I should probably go. Here.” She pulls her phone from her pocket and hands it to me. “Give me your number. I’d love to catch up. Maybe we could be friends again?”
Heck yeah, we can be friends!
Wait. Do I want to be friends?
Was I just friend-zoned?
Jess and Mallory are the only girls I’ve ever called friends, Mallory more than Jess. And that’s only because they’re dating my best friends. Can I do just friends?
I shoot myself a text, ignoring the barrage of thoughts streaming through my head, then hand Sophie her phone back. The strap of her shirt slides off her shoulder as she tucks her phone in her back pocket. I brush my finger along her shoulder, pushing the strap back in its place. Goosebumps breakout across her skin.
Sophie stands, and it takes a heart pounding second to realize she’s going to leave, but then I stand too. Wrapping both arms around her, I breathe her in. She rubs her hand along my back, making it difficult to think. I force myself to let her go before things get awkward. Sophie leaves me and walks to the front door. Reaching for the handle, she pauses and looks over her shoulder. I sigh, trying to catch my breath because it’s coming in short bursts. Sophie gives me a nervous smile before walking out of my life again.
At least this time it’s only for the night.
Hopefully.
Thank You
I want to say thank you for reading my novel Can’t Let Go. It’s because of readers like you that Beau and Mallory’s story gets to be told. If you enjoyed my novel, please leave a review on Amazon. Reviews are the lifeblood of a novel, allowing it to be found by more readers.
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