Barron raised his brow at the hardness in my voice. "No, no, it wouldn't. Except..."
"Except?" I snapped. I didn't mean to get snippy, but it was apparent that Barron didn't think I was good enough for Sofia. I mean, Iwasn'tbut still…
"You can't deny that you're a bit of a playboy." Barron stated. "Sofia's one of my best friends."
I shook my head. "Can't playboys change their ways? I'm not looking at being a Hugh Hefner...still fucking around when I'm eighty."
"What about at twenty-eight?"
I scrubbed a hand down my face. "I don't know, man. I do know that I'm not currently seeing or sleeping with anyone and -" I paused as I thought of what to say. "And I like Sofia."'Like'was too mild a word for what I felt for her.
"Okay," Barron slowly answered.
There was a brief lull in the conversation; the two of us lost in thought over what I just revealed. If Eden spotted a spark between Sofia and me, maybe that meant my attraction for her was mutual? Every time we were in the same room, I could feel a flicker of electricity between us. Surely it couldn't be one-sided?
Barron cleared his throat as he checked his black Gucci watch. "Well, that's enough of that. That's all Eden wanted to know." He stood and clapped his hand on my shoulder. "Just so you know, if you want to go for it, you have my full support. Just treat her right because if you don't, I'll have no hesitation in kicking your ass."
Before I could respond to that, Barron threw my backpack at me. "C'mon. That's enough talking about our feelings. There's a beer and a hot lady with my name on it."
I stood and grinned. "Race you to the bottom," I quipped before taking off.
There was definitely a cold brew waiting for me. But I couldn't help but yearn for the latter part of Barron's sentence, too.
Chapter 17
Sofia
"Sothisiswhereyou disappeared to."
I jumped at the smooth sound of Simon's voice. He approached me with a cocky smile, one hand in his pocket and the other had a beer bottle dangling from it. The sun illuminated his features, revealing a few copper flakes in his hair.
Simon and Barron had been back from their hike for about two hours now. They came in all sweaty and shirtless, laughing and joking with each other. Eden had greeted Barron with a lingering kiss and a cheeky ass grab, uncaring that he was dirty and that she had already showered. My eyes met Simon's briefly, and a vision of myself greeting him in the same manner flashed through my mind, causing me to look away quickly; my cheeks apple red.
Once they disappeared for a shower and a beer, I grabbed my art supplies and sat by the fire pit. The sun had hit the rolling mountains, and I felt inspired to capture it. And maybe I also wanted to take a moment alone, away from the intensity of Simon and how he was making me feel. Truthfully, I felt a little embarrassed at having poured out my deepest desires to him last night.
He was the last person I ever thought I'd be lying in the dark with, confessing my wish to find everlasting love like my parents.
"Can I see?" Simon gestured to my art pad.
"Sure," I murmured, moving my pad closer to him.
I was okay with showing my artwork when asked. Most people I met weren't artistically inclined, so I could draw a stick figure with an extra flare, and they'd still ooh and ahh over it. Simon, however, - while admitting to me that he was an amateur - had a bit of experience, so I was a little nervous about what he would say.
"Wow, I love how you captured the silhouette of that mountain. Your shading is impeccable." He sounded sincere, his eyes alight in wonder as they ran over my work.
Warm pleasure shot through my stomach at his praise. "Thanks," I beamed up at him.
He turned to flash me a pleased grin. His hand was resting on the back of my chair, and I shifted a little in my seat from the body heat he was giving me.
"You're incredibly lucky to be doing what you love."
A heavy feeling settled in our moment, and when I peeked up at him, he was staring wistfully down at my paper. An idea burst into my head, and before thinking, I turned to my satchel and pulled out one of my spare pads.
"How 'bout it?"
He glanced at the blank pad in surprise, mixed with a bit of nervousness. "Yeah? You don't mind?" He eagerly reached for the pad.
I opened my pencil case, showcasing an array of graphite and charcoal pencils, mechanical and regular erasers, and a blending stump. "Take them. I have what I need on me."
