“Perfect.” Sophia nods appreciatively. “You didn’t have to bring dessert, though.”
“Lucas made them, actually.” The words slip out casually, but Sophia’s eyebrows shoot up.
“Lucas Carmichael made chocolate-covered strawberries?”
I can’t help smiling. “He’s full of surprises.”
“Speaking of surprises,” Sophia says, lowering her voice conspiratorially, “we’ve missed you at Sunday brunches.Stella keeps asking if you’ve abandoned the girl gang for married life.”
I focus intently on arranging the strawberries. “Work’s been busy. The podcast is?—”
"Jess." Sophia fixes me with that no-nonsense Oscar-winning stare.
My shoulders slump slightly. It’s oddly relieving to drop the act, even for a moment. “I don’t really know what’s going on.”
“Well, from what I’ve seen tonight, you two aren’t exactly sticking to the ‘business arrangement’ playbook.”
I glance at Lucas again. He’s laughing at something Grant said, and the firelight casts his profile in warm gold. My chest tightens in that now-familiar way.
“We’ve sort of adjusted the parameters,” I admit.
“That’s exactly what Lucas said to Grant,” Sophia says.
“Wait, Lucas talked to Grant about us?”
“You two are hopeless. Yes, apparently, Lucas was equally evasive while simultaneously being completely transparent about having feelings for you.”
“He said he has feelings?” The words come out embarrassingly breathless.
“Not in so many words, but Grant said that it’s written all over his face.” She studies me. “Like whatever’s written all over yours right now.”
I turn away, busying myself with the dessert again. “It’s just physical. We’re both adults. No reason we can’t enjoy the situation.”
“Mmhmm.” Sophia sounds thoroughly unconvinced. “And that’s why you’re blushing like a teenager?”
“I’m not…” I touch my cheeks, which are indeed warm. “It’s hot in here.”
“Sure it is,” she teases, but then she softens. “Look, I get it. Falling for someone when you’re not supposed to? Been there. It’s terrifying.”
“I’m not falling for him,” I say automatically, but it sounds hollow even to my own ears.
Sophia just waits, adding butter to the green beans.
“Fine.” I sigh. “It’s just, he gets me, you know? Not the podcast host or the team owner’s daughter, but me. Even the difficult parts.” I fiddle with a strawberry that won’t stay in place. “And he has this whole other side that nobody sees. He’s thoughtful and surprisingly funny, and he makes the best coffee, and?—”
“And you’re in love with him,” Sophia finishes gently.
“I’m in something,” I admit. “But in less than three months, the documentary wraps, I get my inheritance, and the arrangement ends. That was the deal.”
“Deals can be renegotiated.”
The hope that flares in my chest is almost painful. “It’s not that simple.”
“It never is.” She squeezes my arm. “But you should know this better than anybody. Sometimes, the complicated things are the ones most worth fighting for.”
Before I can respond to Sophia, the kitchen door bangs open, and a whirlwind of curls and gangly limbs bursts in.
“Is that chocolate? Did someone say strawberries?” Hazel slides across the tile floor in her socks, coming to a dramatic stop at the island. Her eyes widen at my platter. “Those look AMAZING!”
