Trace
The door closes behind her. I glance at the time on my cell phone. It’s close to ten. How does a fucking dinner last five hours?!
“Was it fun times all around for you and the Grays?”
A scream pierces the silence. Footsteps march toward me. Sorrow leans over the couch and smacks my shoulder. “You scared me!” She walks to the lamp on the table behind us and turns it on. “Why are you lurking in the dark like a creeper?”
I bark out humorless laughter. “A few hours with different folks with different strokes, and you’re forward as fuck now, questioning my actions?”
She looks at me with a frown before her eyes light up. “You’re in a grumpy mood, and I know exactly what we need. A swim in the pool.”
Before I can get off the couch and snatch her in my arms, Sorrow skitters away and runs off to her bedroom, her boots pounding the wood floor with her quick steps.
I sling an arm over my eyes and laugh. My shy mouse wants to swim now, even though she never wanted to go near the pool before. Sure, I’ve caught her glancing at it with longing and curiosity when she thought I wasn’t watching, but that was then, and this is now. She’s not curious or quiet. She wants to go full out and go swimming with me. She’s happy and excited rather than timid and scared.
The girl who came walking in through the front door is not the same girl who walked out. Something is different about Sorrow.
Did fucking Rush do or say something to her that put the sparkle in her eyes? Fuck me, did Rush make a move on my little mouse? If I hear that he did, I’m going to punch him in the face before I knee him in the groin. He’ll be so swollen down there, he won’t get any action for ages.
I roll off the couch and stomp to Sorrow’s room. I don’t remember seeing a swimsuit in the pile of clothes and shoes on the counter when the cashier rang her up. Jesus H. Christ, the happiness on Sorrow’s face when a girl close to our age picked out clothes for her with excitement and genuine interest in helping Sorrow be fashionable, as the girl put it . . . It was priceless.
And the way the girl looked from me to Sorrow with approval on her face, like she agreed with the romance gods that Sorrow and I make a great pairing . . . I run my fingers through my hair. Now I’m waxing poetic about romance gods and pairings. She’s rubbing off on me. I’ve watched her romance movies while studying at the bar in the kitchen. I try to drown out the dialogue and the cheesy music, but it’s hard to do when I’m also craning my neck, listening for Sorrow’s soft sobs, snorts of laughter, and quiet squeals of happiness. That girl loves her romance movies.
I’m lost in thought and don’t notice Sorrow coming out of her room. I bump into her, and we collide. She starts to fall backward. I catch her with my arms and pull her to me until our bodies touch.
She is bare shoulders, arms, abs, and legs, and I am sprung. I lock my jaw. Fuck it, this cannot be happening. I am still pissed at her for going out with Rush and meeting his parents. Kids only do that when they’re serious about each other. I’m also pissed that she is fucking happy and excited after one night out with a different guy. I let go of her and put her at arm’s length.
She’s wearing a pink bikini. I openly look her over from her head to her painted toes—fiery-red toenail polish. I shake my head. I thought she would be a softer-colored kind of girl, like light pink or blue. I return my gaze to her face. Her eyes are downcast. She’s chewing on her bottom lip. My scrutiny of her body has made her feel unsure. I’m pissed, but I never want Sorrow to feel uncertain about my feelings for her.
We have three weeks to work through whatever we began yesterday under the guise of an experiment. After time spent with just her, exclusively, I believe I can return to my old life, and Sorrow will be in a better place. She’ll know exactly how to handle any guy who tries to exploit her shyness and innocence. However, she’s a quick learner, and her shyness is gradually giving way to confidence.
I won’t be the one who kills her confidence.
Some other dude can when she falls hard, and he decides she isn’t for him and breaks her heart. I ball my hands. I’ll kill any motherfucker who breaks Sorrow Sophia’s heart.
I nudge her gaze to me with my knuckle under her chin. “What’s wrong?”
“You’re disappointed in what you see.”
“Aw, Sorrow, I’m not. I’m just pissed, that’s all.”
“Because of Rush?”
“Because you walked into the house on cloud nine and didn’t come down until my anger clipped your wings and had you crashing to earth.” I stroke her cheek. Run my knuckle across her trembling bottom lip. Press a kiss to her forehead. I can’t get enough of her, and my confidence slips.
Can I walk away from Sorrow after we finish the experiment?
“You’re beautiful, Sorrow.”
“I am? You like what you see?”
“Too much. I want to eat you up right now.”
She clasps her hands behind her back and rocks from side to side with a smile, looking adorable and sinfully hot. Yep, she can be the porn star and wholesome girl of my dreams any day of the year.
“Will you join me in the pool?” There’s uncertainty in her tone. She’s come down off her excitement with whatever the fuck happened at the Gray’s place.
I nod. “I can do that.” I’ll keep my promise to myself. I’ll do everything I can to reassure Sorrow and strip away her uncertainty. She has to learn these life lessons from a place of safety, not fear. I don’t want Sorrow to ever be scared around me again.
