“Yes, I know her,” he acknowledged, though no one had asked. And then he turned towards me, his voice softening just a fraction. “What are you doing here, Soph?”
Soph.
My heart stuttered and my chest filled like someone had pumped air into it in a hurry. Heat burned behind my eyes. A flurry of memories rushing at me all at once. Overwhelming. For a moment, I couldn’t answer. There was no answer to give him. Not because I didn’t want to, but because I didn’t know.
“I don’t know,” I mumbled eventually.
Ryan tipped his head, the movement so small that I would doubt anyone would notice. Yet the men surrounding me moved away, and even in the dullness of the pub, it suddenly felt lighter. Ry pointed to the semi-circular booth beside me, and I slid across the crumbling leather seat.
“Is everything ok?” he asked tentatively, sitting down beside me.
The seat submitted to his weight. Air exhaled from the upholstery, and now I could smell him. The scent reached me before the memories did. Leather and smoke but layered now with something darker. Aftershave, wood and spice. Ryan had never smelled like this. He’d been petrol, rain and cheap soap, a fresh spray of deodorant to cover the smell of cigarettes. Like the backstreets and bikes he used to disappear into.
This man smelled like something harder. Someone who’d spent years learning how not to be that boy anymore. Now it was wood and spice. Something sweet lingering underneath, hinting at something dangerous. Something that stirred a feeling buried right down in my stomach.
Why was I here? I couldn’t even answer myself. That night in the hospital car park, when I realised it was him, something had switched inside me. A memory, for sure. But it was more than that. It was intense curiosity. The sort that burned you fromthe inside out. The sort that haunted your dreams and fuelled your nightmares until you acted on it. So here I was. Acting on it.
Chapter Ten
Even in the dull light of the pub, Sophie’s eyes sparkled. They were wide. Frightened. The grey almost blue, but not quite. They betrayed the strength I knew was underneath. Betrayed her usual composure. Her control. The prospects lingered. Close enough they could intervene if needed, far enough they couldn’t hear me speak. They watched, looking for any sign that Sophie might, for some reason, be a threat. But even under the scrutiny, they wouldn’t have noticed the tiny tells in her body. The faint tremor in normally steady fingers. The stiffness in her shoulders like she was trying to hold herself too still.
“Soph,” I said her name softly, watching her eyes move to mine.
It was quiet in the pub. Mostly. There was no background music, just a faint hum of tension in the air. A low rumble of voices upstairs. A shuffle of a seat or feet above us. Prospects murmuring between themselves.
“What are you doing here? Are you ok?”
Sophie nodded, an untamed curl falling over her forehead.
“The other day. At the hospital. I… I just wanted to see if it was really you. I dunno.”
She was mumbling. Unable to form the words. Words had always come easy to Soph. She’d never been the girl who stumbled over sentences. Not Sophie Mercer. She’d always been quick with her mind, quicker with her tongue, able to pick apart an argument before most people had even finished making it. She was more than just clever. She was astute. Observant.
Too clever for the estate I’d grown up on. Too clever for the life I’d already been sinking into even back then. I’d always known then she was far too good for me. Known it long before she did. I knew, even back then, she was going somewhere I’d never belong. I just never got the chance to see if she’d have taken me with her, anyway.
“You’re safe here, Soph,” I encouraged. “But I need to know why you are here.”
“To see you.”
My heart jolted. Just the once. Like it was as stunned as I was. I wanted to smile. Desperately. But her being here didn’t mean we could pick up where we’d left off. Too much time had passed. We’d both changed, and I was a completely different person now. Inside and out.
“Well, it’s good to see you, too. You could have just called.”
“I don’t have your number.”
“Same one.”
“Really? You never changed it?”
I shook my head. ‘Course not. Because if I did, she could never have found me again. Even though she didn’t look.
I watched her for a moment. Her face was fuller. But it didn’t hide her cheekbones. Just showed the years between us. Tiny smile lines at the corners of her eyes, but I’d yet to see her smile. At one time it would light up a room, even when she’d just been angry at me or upset at her dad. Or when I’d had some shit to deal with, it changed everything when the corners of her mouth picked up into that grin.
My fingers dug into the flesh of my thigh. Hidden under the table, as I fought the urge to stroke that piece of hair from her face.
“Never changed it,” I said eventually, releasing my hand from my leg. “So, you just came to see me, huh? Why?”
“Because I wanted to.” Her voice had steadied now. Her composure returning. “You caught me by surprise at the hospital that night,” she continued. “You’ve changed so much. I just needed to see you again.”
