I shrug. “I don’t have one. They’re just people.”
“You only say that because you’re famous too.”
Maybe I am, but I don’t feel famous. At least, not with Sophie. “I met Dwayne Johnson once,” I offer. “He was intense, but fun.”
“The Rock is what impresses you? Not some beautiful actress?” she asks slyly.
I shake my head. “Most of them aren’t as beautiful on the inside. Makeup covers up a lot.”
We settle on the couch, and Sophie continues with the questions as the movie starts, but they trickle off as we watch the love story between Drew and Adam Sandler.
I tell Sophie that in real life, he’s funny, but quieter than you’d expect.
We eat our burgers, and she lets me finish her fries, and we watch the movie.
It’s comfortable. Cozy, once Sophie moves closer and throws her blanket over our legs.
Couple-y.
I haven’t been part of a couple in a while, and I never expected to be playing at it with someone like Sophie Laz.
But it feels nice, being here with her. Sitting close enough that her hand brushes my thigh under the blanket. Sharing the last of the fries.
Watching Drew and Adam fall in love, and wondering what it would be like to kiss Sophie.
I actually can’t stop thinking about that, especially when on screen, they finally get together.
But I can’t kiss Sophie because we’re not really a couple.
Not at all. I don’t know what we are, but it’s not a couple, real or not. We’re friends. And she’s not the type of friend I can kiss randomly, and then forget about her.
I’m going to leave Battle Harbour—maybe soon—and Sophie is not. I’m not one for long distance, and she will never leave here. And I wouldn’t want it to be weird between us when I do come back.
So no kissing.
Although I am very conscious of her beside me. Her hair smells of strawberries, but there’s a cookie scent as well, maybe vanilla in her perfume.
Does she even wear perfume?
The girls I’ve dated practically bathe in it. All of them had a signature scent, and most of them advertised what they wore in exchange for bottles of the stuff.
They did the same for makeup. Clothing brands. One girl told me she’d been gifted enough skin care products to last until she got old—about thirty-five.
I never texted her back.
I would never be sitting here, watching an old movie with one of them. We would be out, being seen, being photographed, being a famous person doing regular things, like going to movie premieres, club openings, birthdays spent on yachts in the Mediterranean.
Only, I don’t think the things we did could ever be regular for someone like Sophie.
Would she even want that life, if she had the choice? Would I want it for her?
Do I want it? Because this… this is pretty nice.
On screen, Adam gets the girl, and it’s a happy ending, and there’s kissing. Sophie is still beside me and I’m so conscious of her, it’s getting uncomfortable.
What’s she thinking? Is she as aware of me as I am of her?
I glance over to find her looking at me. We smile and look away.
