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So I put my phone on silent, thinking that not hearing the alert would make it easier to ignore the pull of Sophia Slater. I disproved that theory when I grabbed the phone every half hour and found some new heartfelt text from her, begging me to give her a chance to explain herself properly. Not answering her, not plunking out two little letters (ok), was sheer torture.
I narrowed my eyes in disbelief when I came face to face with the object of my desire and frustration. Just like I had no choice but to fall for her, fate putting us on a collision course that night, I had no choice but to accept the fact that if I wanted to end this thing, I wouldn't be able to just walk away or ignore her texts.
I'd have to look her in the eye.
As much trash as Mal talked yesterday afternoon, complete with rapid fire texts all night reminding me to be strong, and that silence was more than 'skanky Lois Lane' deserved, she was suddenly damn near speechless. She shrugged her shoulders, hiding behind her red tendrils, muttering two words before she made her quick exit. Good luck.
Alone with Sophia, in the one place where she could do real damage, at my work for crissakes, my shock quickly tumbled into anger. "So let me get this straight." I flung my keys on the counter and took a long, steady drag from my coffee cup. "I don't answer your texts-"
"Desmond," Sophia began, pulling off her ball cap, her dark locks springing free.
She wasn't playing fair, wild and free...and I flicked my gaze downward. To top it off, I was pretty sure she wasn't wearing a bra, her nipples round and teasing the cotton fabric of her t-shirt.
"I know this is a huge invasion-"
"I'm not finished," I snapped, shrugging off my leather jacket, gripping it tight to stem the desire to grip her instead. Pull her body against mine. Pour gasoline on the raging fire she stoked inside me. "I didn't answer your texts and your next step is to come to my job? Lying to get into Hush was a huge invasion. This? This is borderline stalking."
Her eyes widened like I'd just spewed profanity, calling her every bad word under the sun. All the delicate features of hers that I'd committed to memory were on full display now. From those wide blue eyes, to her button nose, to those round cheeks that reacted to everything, and finally her thick lips...God, she was beautiful.
She wrapped her arms tight across her chest, like she was trying to make herself smaller. Like she was trying to disappear.
When she spoke, she didn't look me in the eye. "In case it's not pretty evident, I'm kind of impulsive. The only thing I was thinking about, the only thing I cared about, was getting to you." She gripped her bottom lip with her teeth, blushing even deeper. "I wanted to make you listen to me. Hope that my sheer lunacy would convince you that I was serious."
She pulled at her t-shirt and tossed her hand at the ball cap that sat on the counter. Not a bad disguise for one of the sleep deprived PA's.
"I balked at you calling me a stalker, but God help me, that's exactly what I've become." She pressed her palm against her forehead and I winced, sure if she bit her lip any harder, she'd draw blood.
"My work day is filled with celebrities and perfection and glitz and glamour and Photoshop and tearing people down until I'm not sure what's real and what's not." She lowered her hand and picked her gaze up from the floor. "But the way I feel about you? That's real, Desmond."
I was struggling to hold onto my anger. I couldn't do this, could I? Forgive? Forget? Tear down the walls and let her in after I'd given her more of me than I'd given anyone? But the battle lines were weakening and the energy it took to be angry was just too much. Big, bad, Desmond wasn't who I was. It wasn't who I wanted to be. I was sick of guarding my heart from pain, from loneliness. There was a woman in front of me, a woman I cared about. When I saw her sweep a tear from her cheek, her body trembling from the sobs she suppressed, I knew it was more than that.
I was in love with Sophia Slater.
And the fact that she was crying, hurting, because she thought that she had ruined us, that she'd hurt me, well, that was unacceptable.
With every step I took toward her, I unloaded all the reasons I should keep my distance. She lied to me; it was true, she came to me under false pretenses. But I knew that when I touched her, when I felt her come undone in my arms, that there was no greater truth. She could bring everything I built crashing down; yep, all it would take was a whisper, an 'anonymous source' and the mere question would forever associate my brand with sex clubs and BDSM. But when I took my fingers and swept them through her dark locks, tugging ever so slightly until her sky blue eyes locked on me, I knew that the risk of everything going to hell didn't compare to the risk of walking away. If I let this woman go, I'd regret it forever.
I kissed her cheeks with my fingertips, her tears wet and warm. "Don't cry, Sophia. I'm right here." I leaned in, nuzzling my cheek against hers, a smirk on my lips. "And I'm not calling security."
"Good," she fired back, wrapping her arms around my waist. "Me and Frank are buddies, so I'm betting he'd haul you off set before he'd kick me to the curb anyway."
That earned her a smack on the ass and when she let out a squeal, I scooped her up, careful to maneuver through the tight space to the couch. I dumped her on one cushion and lowered myself onto the other, trying to not get too mushy about the fact that she looked perfect curled up beside me. Like that was the way it was supposed to be, me and Sophia, relaxing in my trailer in between shooting, laughing and sharing and maybe even doing some things that would require locking the door.
She propped herself up on the pillow, scooping her raven strands behind her ears and giving me a very serious look. "There's some things you should know about me before we go any further."
Uh oh. I returned her solemn expression, nodding my head gravely. "It's a good thing I'm sitting down."
She dipped her head twice slowly, like she was about to unleash something massive. "When I'm having a bad day, the only cure is Easy Mac and a Charmed marathon."
"I'm not sure what's worse, the Easy Mac," I let loose a full body shudder. "Or the estrogen and hokey special effects overdose."
"I'm not sure what's worse, you trash talking the golden deliciousness that is Easy Mac or the awesomeness that is the Halliwell sisters," she pouted, swiping a pillow and smacking my arm with it.
"How about I make you a deal. When you have a bad day, I'll make you the legendary O'Connell mac and cheese and I'll sit through at least one episode before I start in with the legendary O'Connell commentary."
She pondered that, stroking her chin. "What will it cost me?"
I started at her feet and worked my way up, nice and slow, until I stopped at her eyes. The vibrant blue widened because she knew I was thinking up something sinful. "Something that just may make you finally say 'red'."
