“Sawyer and Astrid got married.”
I repeat, turning to face him. He was angry when I leaked his sex tape, and when I tattooed him, but this is next level. He looks ready to commit murder, his hazel eyes darkening a shade, and his body trembling a little. The cigarette falls into the ashtray, and Soren’s barely blinking.
“Say something.”
“How do you know?” He asks, his voice low, menacing, and almost threatening.
“Sinners and Saints.”
“Show me.”
I take the phone out of my pocket, unlock it, find the email, then hand it over to him. Soren’s eyes dip down to the screen, his body taut with tension, rigid with all the anger, while he scrolls down. When he reaches the image, his jaw clenches, and I’m surprised he doesn’t crack a tooth.
“Soren?”
I take a small step forward, gently taking the phone out of his hands. He doesn’t look up, still frozen in place. Then, he snaps out of it and starts rummaging through his dorm, looking for his own phone. He slumps on his bed, unlocking it, and I sit right next to him.
“Fuck,” he grits out, and aside from the twenty missed calls from me, he has another fifty from his parents. He sucks in a deepbreath, closing his eyes for a brief moment. “I can’t believe she would be that fucking stupid.”
“Oh, I’m thinking the same about Sawyer.”
“You don’t get it, Soph,” he groans, rubbing his face with his hand. The anger simmers beneath the surface, but he’s controlling it, which is a shocker on its own. He’s not the one to hold back from unleashing his wrath, and the fact that he’s trying to keep the fury inside of him is equal parts admiring and worrying. “She just ruined her future.”
“So did Sawyer,” I sigh, shifting positions. My head rests against the bedpost, my legs sprawled over Soren’s lap. Almost on instinct, his hands come to rub my legs gently, though his mind is far, far away. “You heard my father; he won’t receive any of the business.”
“Yes, but when we were at your house that night, Astrid had a choice. Break it off with him, or get disowned.”
“They wouldn’t go that far, would they? This isn’t some medieval era fantasy, where the nobility disowns the child that dares to marry a commoner? Not that Sawyer’s a commoner.”
“It’s not about that. It’s about the principle. My parents hate your parents more than they love Astrid and me,” he snorts, and my heart aches, for some unexplainable reason. “That’s why I’ve been trying to tell her not to go through with it.”
“You knew they’d get married?”
“I knew they’d do something; I didn’t think they were this moronic.”
“Me too,” I sigh, rubbing my temples. “What do we do?”
“There’s nothing we can do,” Soren turns to look at me. “I might beat Sawyer up, though.”
“Oh, be my guest. Beat him up real nice for me too, okay?”
Finally, a smile cracks through the mask of anger. Well, a smallsmirk, but with Soren, that counts as a small victory, and I’ll be counting mine in any way I possibly can.
“You’re still not on speaking terms with him?”
I shake my head. “After this, I’ll never be, either. How’s the situation on your end?”
“Our parents took away her allowance, and she’s off the inheritance. I’m not sure what they’ll do now when she’s officially become Mrs. Sloane.”
“Financially, she has nothing to worry about. Even if Sawyer doesn’t end up getting the business, he’s got a hefty inheritance.”
Soren falls silent for a moment, his eyes piercing into mine. He’s itching to ask me something, but he’s holding back. His hands continue to rub my feet and legs, my body relaxing under his touch.
“What is it?”
He doesn’t respond immediately, his eyes searching for mine. “If it were you and me that got married instead—”
“I don’t know about you, but I’m not that stupid,” I cut him off with a scoff. “When I get married, I’ll have the biggest wedding of the century. But do go on.”
