I raise an eyebrow. "You know damn well that’s not up to me alone."
"Yeah, I do. Just be careful." Then she turns away.
"Do you think I’m doing the right thing? With Sophie?"
She pauses and looks at me blankly over her shoulder. Just as I begin to wonder if she’s stuck like a broken record, she contorts her mouth into a crooked grin. "You don’t want to know what I’m thinking."
I tilt my head. "I do. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have asked."
"Mmm… no. You don’t. Trust me." Without further explanation, she turns and disappears into her old room.
Before I can call her back or follow her, a knock on the steel door sounds, announcing Steve’s arrival.
As I walk down the stairs, I briefly look down at myself and see that my shirt is damp around chest level. The gray fabric soaked up Sophie’s tears when I pressed her against me.
The memory of the hug makes me pause at the door. Her body felt so delicate and fragile that I was afraid of hurting her. When she also wrapped her arms around me, I realized how fundamentally different we are, and that it’s close to a miracle that she allowsme, of all people, to touch her.
Most people steer clear of me. And those who’ve already had the pleasure of messing with me… Well, let’s just say, very few would do it a second time.
But Sophie’s either too unaware to realize what kind of person I am, or she actually doesn’t care. I don’t know which of those I’d prefer, but even if she really hasn’t figured out yet that I’m the epitome of a guy to stay away from, that will change eventually. She’ll realize who she’s dealing with, and then she’ll run.
When another bang sounds at the door, I push the thoughts of Sophie to the back of my head. Then I open the heavy steel door and let Steve and his two henchmen in.
"Well? You ready?" he asks, eyeing me intently.
"Sure." At least I hope so. If I’m not, the night could end badly, and I really don’t feel like that after this week.
"Good. Let’s do it."
FOURTEEN
SOPHIE
Jules assures me that they don’t want to get rid of me and stresses how worried Cole was. "He almost lost it. The last time I saw him like this was years ago."
I find this hard to believe, but Cole seemed genuinely relieved when he found me, and I begin to wonder if his anger is actually just worry in disguise.
"Promise me that next time you’ll talk to one of us instead of running away, okay?" Jules looks at me urgently while sitting next to me on the couch.
I just nod and lower my gaze.
"Say it," she demands, leaning forward and tilting her head so she can look me in the eye.
Lifting my gaze, I force a smile on my face. "I promise."
"There you go," Jules says with satisfaction and leans back again. "No solo acts. No short-circuiting. And above all, no running away, got it?"
"Yes. I promise."
"Great. Then we’ve cleared that up." Abruptly, she gets up and walks to the kitchen. "No offense, but I need a drink right now." With that, she opens the fridge, and I’m relieved that she forgave me so quickly.
Two hours later, we’re sitting on the bed in my new room. The picture on the small TV is frozen because Jules has pressed the pause button for what has to be the twentieth time.
After she made herself something she calls a Tequila Sunrise, which looks pretty but tastes awful, she decided that it was time to give me acrash course. I didn’t understand what she meant by that, but I quickly realized that the movie she’d started was not about pie as described in the title.
"He’s going down on her," she replies after I asked her what Kevin is doing between Vicky’s thighs.
I frown.
