She smiles, but it’s laced with bitterness. “I’m sorry—”
“No apologies,” I chastise as I let my hand fall away from her face.
She tips her head. “You’re always so bossy.”
Laughing, I bend in closer. “Want to know a secret?”
Her eyes widen and she nods.
“I like bossing you around.”
It was meant in jest. Something to make her laugh because I do tend to be vocal about my reassurances and often tell her how she should feel.
But I didn’t mean to lace innuendo within those last words.
I like bossing you around.
A small breath escapes from Sophie as she tips her head back. Her eyes search mine, and I can’t help but notice how close our mouths are.
I’m stunned beyond measure when Sophie goes on tiptoes and brushes her mouth against mine.
I’m so surprised, I involuntarily jerk back from her, which causes her to scramble away from me.
“Oh my God,” she gasps, a look of horror on her face. “I’m so sorry. It must be the beer making me do stupid things.”
I reach for her, shaking my head. I want to tell her there’s nothing to apologize for, but she’s so embarrassed that she scuttles back even farther.
“Sophie,” I say in a gentle tone, “don’t back away from me.”
She shakes her head and holds out her hands, rambling her apologies. “I swear I didn’t mean to do that. I would never press myself on you like that. I must’ve had too much to drink. And well, I mean… your mouth was right there. And my mouth was right there. And you know how it is when you have alcohol, you do stupid things. And I swear, Baden, I would never do anything to jeopardize our friendship. It’s too important to me. I don’t want to lose it.”
“Sophie,” I snap, my tone slightly harsh to stop her monologue. I nab her upper arms and pull her in closer.
Once again, I bend down, not to kiss her, but so she is forced to look in my eyes. “There is nothing you could ever do that would jeopardize our friendship. Do you understand that?”
She stares wide-eyed but doesn’t tell me she understands because she doesn’t believe me.
“You will always be my friend. You will never be less than that.”
To myself, I think, she could be more. When her lips touched mine, a sizzle burned through my entire body. It was the barest of touches, but because it was Sophie, I felt the impact straight through to my gut. She and I could definitely be more, but she does make a good point.
She’s had several beers. Her inhibitions are loosened, and I know as well as she does that we all do things under the influence that we would never have done sober.
I don’t know if Sophie is attracted to me.
Do I hope she is?
I think I do.
But right now is not the time to test that theory.
I release my hold on her arms, sliding one hand down to take hers. “Come on. Let’s get to my house and tuck you into bed. We have a big day tomorrow.”
She smiles and nods her agreement. We walk silently the rest of the way to my car.
We both have big days tomorrow. Sophie’s making the trip back to Pittsburgh by herself, which I know might be causing her some anxiety. I’m going to the DA’s office to give my victim impact statement. I want Sophie to go with me, but as of now, she’s noncommittal. I’m hoping she’ll agree to accompany me as I believe it’ll go a long way toward closing out this part of her life.
♦
My house is quiet and settled. It’s not creaky like Sophie’s, and I realize I kind of miss those noises.
After we got home, Sophie drank a bottle of water and took Excedrin for a headache. She thanked me for a great evening, followed by a warm hug that was totally in the friend zone.
“I’m going to take a shower before bed,” she announced as she made her way to the staircase. “Good night.”
“See you in the morning,” I replied.
Now I’m listening to the water as I lie in my bed, having absolutely no trouble envisioning what she might look like naked under the warm spray. It’s not the first time I’ve thought of Sophie like that, and I’m sure it won’t be the last. Her kiss tonight ensured it would be on my mind, and I have no trouble admitting that I want her.
It’s just… I’m not sure if I have the courage to go there.
I know Sophie sees me as this man who has bravely fought back from the brink of near death and permanent paralysis, but she would never know the depths of my own fears.
My own insecurities.
I haven’t been with a woman in a long damn time. Luckily, my equipment works fine, but there’s been no need to use it. Being with a woman was the last thing on my mind when I couldn’t walk, and it’s not been on my mind otherwise—until I reconnected with Sophie.
I might be walking again, and sure, I can apparently take a spin on the ice just fine, but I’m still not whole. My legs atrophied severely those first several months, and no matter how hard I’m working out, they haven’t caught up to my torso and arms, which I’ve been able to exercise the entire time. It’s like I’ve got two different bodies—a well-muscled upper half and a much thinner, less defined lower half.
How vain of me to even worry about this, but Sophie is a goddess. She’s so beautiful, she could have her choice of men. Why would she want someone who’s not quite complete?
That’s the weak part of me speaking.
But the man in me who knows Sophie and believes wholeheartedly that she’s not stuck on things like that will continue to ponder if something could be there.
All it would take would be a real kiss.
If I had the guts to do it.
Because if I’m wrong about this, and she doesn’t want me, everything could be ruined.
CHAPTER 21
Sophie
Bags in both hands, purse over my shoulder, and a slight pause to dig for my keys, I’m simply not paying attention to my surroundings. I had made a quick trip to the mall before heading back to my hotel for the evening. I’d planned on ordering room service, taking a long bath, and watching a movie. My flight back to Pittsburgh was early the next morning.
It never occurred to me to be watchful.
Sure, I’d parked my rental at the far end of the parking lot, but I liked the extra steps it gave me.
And yes, it’s getting dark but not so dark that I feel unsafe.
I should, though, because as my head is bent to look inside my purse and as I fumble for my car keys, I’m not aware enough of my surroundings that I can prevent what happens.
Something hits me in the back, then an arm loops around the front of my body. A large, calloused hand covers my mouth. Something cold presses against my neck, and a hissing of words sends a shiver of primal fear up my spine. “Don’t fight, bitch, or I’ll gut you.”
My bags and purse are jerked away by a different man who immediately starts rummaging inside. I watch helplessly, the knife against my throat keeping me silent.
From nowhere, a third man appears. He grabs hold of my arm and grips it so hard, it feels like my bone bruise. “Pretty lady.”
The man with the knife snarls, “I get her first.”
He told me to be quiet, and the blade is sufficient inducement for me to keep my mouth shut, but they’re not talking about robbery anymore. These two guys are talking about rape, and I’ve always been told to scream and fight as hard as you can.