Then again, now that she thought about it, that line he recited could have been his way of saying I don’t want to live without you as my friend…or as my reading buddy.
Or… any other stupid thing guys suggest after they’ve FUBARed the hell out of a relationship.
As she showered and changed into her pajamas, her mind raced through a list of possible reasons. Maybe he wanted toapologize, or perhaps he had some convoluted explanation that would just make everything more confusing. She knew she shouldn’t dwell on it, but the questions kept coming.
She crawled into bed, pulled the covers up to her chin, and stared at the ceiling. Her mind drifting back to the way he’d looked when she’d won him, a mixture of hope and regret in his eyes. Despite everything, a part of her still felt a pull toward him, a magnetic force that made her heart flutter and her thoughts race.
Sophie sighed, turning on her side and hugging her pillow tightly. “Stupid boys,” she muttered to herself. “Why do they always make things so complicated?”
She closed her eyes, inhaled, and exhaled until her spiraling thoughts dissipated. Tomorrow would come with its answers and decisions.
For now, she let herself sink into the comfort of sleep, a place where she could dream about fairytales, auctions, and the whisper of more fairytale endings to come.
Chapter 35
Stone stood on the rooftop, his eyes sweeping over the dimly lit space around him. The soft glow of the garden lights cast long shadows, creating an almost ethereal atmosphere. He checked the time again and then reread the message he had sent Sophie. He would like to think it was unlike her to leave him hanging.
But how in the hell would he know that, considering they hadn’t dated…yet?
Here he was, ready to declare his love, and he’d never even asked her on an official date. The ludicrousness of it all formed a new knot of worry in his chest, tightening with every passing minute.
Clarabelle, who’d called him as soon as she’d gotten word the auction was over, had assured him it was all very romantic. The kind of thing movies were made of, or books were written about.
According to her, falling in love with your client was an age-old romance trope, and Sophie adored tropes.
According to Clarabelle, Sophie would see the magic in the whole situation.
Unfortunately, it appeared Clarabelle was wrong. Sophie wouldn’t even meet with him to hear a secret she’d paid a million dollars to obtain.
The thought of trying to sleep was out.
The idea of going to work tomorrow and telling his brothers that he’d been blown off was repugnant.
The thought of never telling Sophie he loved her and wanted to spend his life with her was…not an option.
If ever there was a time for a backup plan, it was now.
With a determined nod, he pocketed his phone and headed back to the elevator.
If the professional daydreamer wouldn’t come to him, he’d go to her. No more waiting around, hoping fate would cut him a break. He’d march straight to her apartment and lay it all on the line—starting with his secret life as a fairy godfather.
If that went well, or even if it didn’t, he’d bare his soul and tell her he loved her.
And if that went well, or even if it didn’t, he’d ask her to be his girlfriend and allow him the honor of earning her love.
Somewhere in this emotional rollercoaster, he’d pitch her the idea of becoming a fairytale coordinator for him and his brothers. It sounded ridiculous, but with Sophie, ridiculous had a way of turning magical.
Or maybe he should start with the love confession. Then drop the fairy godfather bombshell. And then… No. Hell. He needed to scrap the script, embrace the chaos, and, for the first time in his life, do things Sophie’s way—wing it.
The cab ride to her apartment was a blur as his mind raced with thoughts of Sophie and their stilted conversation at the auction, and the myriads of expressions she’d shown him while bidding. Not one of them had been happy.
If those thoughts weren’t heavy enough, he also worried about what if she didn’t take his fairy godfather revelation well, and what if she didn’t love him back?
He shook off the doubts. Tonight, he’d let go of control and leap into the unknown, heart first.
“You getting out, or what?” the cabbie said, cutting through his swirling what-ifs like a bullet through a bad guy.
Stone glanced at the exterior of her brick-faced building. Tall, narrow windows with white trim gave the building a quaint, almost storybook appearance…which suited Sophie to a capital T.
