Sophie is chaos girl. Chaos girl is Sophie.
I don’t have feelings for two different women. I have feelings for one woman and one woman only. The woman standing in front of me with wet hair I want to wrap around my hand and lips I want to kiss and freckles on her shoulders I want to trace with my tongue.
Fucking hell, I want to lick Sophie’s shoulders. And every single other part of her.
How is it possible out of all the dating apps in the world we both chose that one? And out of all the people that must be on the app, we found each other?
My brain is moving too fast to math properly, but they have to be infinitesimally, vanishingly small. So small it almost seems like it’s meant to be. Like the universe set our paths up to cross this way.
Like we’re inevitable.
I have the idle thought that I should feel weirder about this. That I should need more time to process all this information. But the thing is, I don’t need it. I don’t need one single second for my brain to adjust to what I think my heart has known for years.
Sophie is mine. Not just in the best friend way. In themarriage and babies and build a home and a future and I will love you longer than foreverkind of way.
It’s the answer to every question I’ve ever had. The final piece of the puzzle sliding into place. My heart, finding its other half. I didn’t need to go searching for something serious and real because serious and real have been standing right in front of me the whole goddamn time.
It’s her. It’s always been her.
Holy fucking shit, it’s always been her.
I open my mouth to tell Sophie exactly that and then slam it shut, thinking before I make words, for once. Because I don’t need one single second to adjust, but Sophie might. Sophie might think she’s into a guy from a dating app and has maybe never given a thought to her and me and whether we might be good together.
For the record, I think we would be great together, and from this moment on, I’m making it my personal mission to show Sophie exactly how it could be until she has no choice but to admit she and I are endgame.
I freaking love a challenge.
“Are you even listening to me?”
Sophie’s sharp question yanks me directly out of my thoughts, and my eyes fly to hers, where she’s looking at me like she’s planning my very slow, very painful death.
I smirk at her. “Sorry. I was too distracted remembering what your tits look like.” I suck in a breath, shaking my head. “Wow, Soph. Just…wow. That’s not an image that’s going to leave my brain anytime soon. Maybe ever.”
I’m shocked when the lasers that shoot out of her eyes don’t strike me dead on the spot. “OUT,” she growls. Her voice is low and dangerous, and I know she’s trying to sound intimidating, but the way she attempts to point to the door before remembering the hand not holding a full coffee mug is keeping her towel up and then slapping that hand to her chest is so endearing I want to snuggle her right up. And fuck her into the mattress. The combination makes me grin again, even harder when she growls for the second time. “Get the fuck out and erase the memory of any part of me from your brain. That’s not for you.”
I beg to differ.
Pushing up from the dresser, I saunter towards her until we’re practically standing toe to toe. I hold her gaze as I bend and kiss her cheek, lingering there for just a second longer than is strictly friendly, the scent of her strawberry shampoo making me smile and my stomach swoop. “Good luck today, Soph,” I murmur. “You’re going to kick ass. I hope you’ll tell me all about it later.”
It takes a surprising amount of effort to step back from Sophie when every instinct in my brain yells at me to stay, but I do it just in time to see her pupils dilate, the flush returning to her face. Nothing on earth could make me happier.
With a wink and a wave, I saunter out of her room, closing the door behind me. And then I stand in the hallway, grinning like an absolute idiot, my future clearly laid.
I’m going to make Sophie Sullivan fall for me.
This is going to be so much fucking fun.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
SOPHIE
ChaosQueen
What’s a Jeopardy category you could sweep?
Blowing out a breath, I toss everything I need for the night in my bag and stand from my chair. Glancing around my office, I wince at the disaster. No one would ever mistake me for an organized sort of person, but this is bad, even by my own, extremely low, standards.
It’s been a bit of a day.
