“Okay. How about your family, then? Are you close to them?”
A lump formed in my throat because this was the last thing I wanted to talk about. “My mom died when I was a teenager.”
“I’m sorry,” she said. “Unfortunately, that’s something we have in common. My mom passed away when I was only seven. I don’t remember much about her, which makes me sad sometimes.” The far-off look in her eyes tugged at my heart. “What was your mom like?”
Her question was innocent, but a fusion of grief, anger, and regret weaved itself into the deepest parts of me.
I recalled an image of my beautiful mother. We shared the same dark strands and brown eyes. “My mom, Kathy, was great. She was a quiet person but very loving and funny. She had the best laugh. And she always smelled like fresh-baked cookies, but that was probably because she made them every other day.” This was the first time in years I allowed myself to think of her,and for as painful as this was, my heart swelled with something similar to relief.
“I’m jealous you have so many memories of her.”
“Don’t be.” I flashed a tight grin to mask the dip in my voice.
“What about the rest of your family?”
“I don’t have any.” I could’ve clarified, but I wasn’t in the right headspace to do so right now.
Her eyes dropped from mine, and I wondered if she sensed my unease. “Can I ask about the small bump in your nose?”
“You’re just full of questions, aren’t you?”
“I’m trying to get to know you better.”
“What do you want to know about my nose?” I asked, thankful she switched topics.
“I’m assuming you broke it?”
“A few times,” I answered, tracing the bridge of my nose. “Hazard of my profession.” She continued to stare at it, and for the first time in a long time, I became a bit self-conscious. “Do you not like my nose?”
“It’s nothing like that. Oddly enough, the bump adds to your appeal.”
“Is that right?” I asked, rolling her onto her back. She laughed and squirmed beneath me. “Then by all means, let me use my appeal to my advantage.”
“I would love to, but…” she said, glancing at the bedside clock, “we have to be downstairs in four and a half hours. I don’t want to be the reason you’re dragging during training.”
“You’re right. We should get some sleep.” Sophie sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. “Where are you going?” I asked, reaching for her.
“Back to my place.”
“Care to tell me why?”
“Because that’s where I live,” she responded, bewilderment riding each word.
I patted the mattress she’d abandoned. “I’d prefer it if you stayed. Unless you don’t want to.”
“No, I’ll stay.” She snuggled under the covers and placed her head back on my chest.
“Did I pass the test?” I asked, wrapping my arm around her.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Her teasing tone gave me my answer.
29
“What the hell is that noise?” Jackson grumbled as he tucked me into his side. The man was like a furnace, but I didn’t want to move because I loved being so close to him.
I slung my leg over his and replied, “I don’t know,” my words barely audible. Not ten seconds later, we both heard a banging sound.
