Page 68 of From LA to London, With Love

Sophie batted my hand away, laughing. “Yes, I do…but I need something more effective than your tongue. I think the chocolate and cream are congealing, which isn’t exactly sexy. Definitely time for a shower.”

“Judging by how many times you just came, I would say my tongue is extremely effective, thank you very much!” I fake pouted.

“Effective for pleasuring me, yes. Not so much for cleaning.” A cheeky grin spread across her face. “Why don’t you come with me, so we can combine both?”

* * *

We lay in bed, freshly showered, cuddling naked, basking in a warm, post-sex glow.

Sophie groaned. “Urgh, I should head home. I’m getting so sleepy, and I don’t want to doze off. I told Mum and Dad I’d be home tonight, so I’m there in the morning when Elliot wakes up. I know it’s only gonna get harder the later I leave it, but I’m already sooo comfy.”

I gave her a squeeze, relishing her warm body pressed against mine. “I know, I don’t want you to leave either. I’m enjoying this too much.”

Sophie wriggled out of my arms, dragged herself out of bed, and put on her clothes. “I’ve got to pull the band-aid off. I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon?”

“Yes, see you then, babe. And thanks again for tonight. It was the best. I love you.”

The last three words took me by surprise, falling out of my mouth without warning. While I’d wanted to say them for some time, I hadn’t had the courage. But now they’d slipped out so naturally. I held my breath, wondering how Sophie would react.

Sophie leaned over and gave me a kiss.

“Good night. I love you too,” she said, smiling.

My heart felt like it might burst.

I watched Sophie walk out of the room, wishing she didn’t have to leave. I’d been working up the courage to ask her whether she’d consider moving in with me—and Elliot, of course—at the Castle. I knew we hadn’t been together for very long, but I already wanted to go to sleep with her beside me every evening, be there to help with Elliot when he was having a rough night, make her coffee every morning.

I let out a satisfied sigh. This was one of my best birthdays yet. Possibly the best birthday.

I couldn’t believe how far my life had come from languishing on that white couch in LA only four months ago. I was no longer fixated by the photos, and I rarely thought about Vanessa. I was in the best shape of my life, working again and living in a house that felt like a home. And then there was Sophie. I connected with Sophie on so many levels. Emotionally—I’d never let myself be so vulnerable before with a partner, intellectually—she inspired me to be a better person, and of course, physically…Those voices in my head, telling me that this was too good to be true, that Sophie would either break my heart or I’d break hers, were piping up less and less.

A ping sounded from Sophie’s side of the bed. I rolled over and saw she’d left her phone on the bedside table. I touched the screen to check what time it was, and two notifications popped up. The first, the one I’d heard, was an email notification about an upcoming sale. But the other email notification immediately grabbed my attention.

Sam Reynolds

Re: Chris Trent Photos

Confirming I’ve received the photos and will get on it.

What the…? No, no, no, no. I reeled like I’d been punched in the stomach, gasping for breath. Surely not…not Sophie.

I Googled Sam Reynolds on my phone. Another punch, stronger, hit my chest. She was a reporter at one of the big US newspapers.

I didn’t know Sophie’s passcode, so I couldn’t read any more, but I didn’t need to.

It had been too good to be true.

What I thought was a thoughtful birthday treat had been a ploy to get compromising photos of me. Sophie must have emailed them to the newspaper while I was in the bathroom. I shuddered. Blindfolded and covered in chocolate and cream, I’d be the laughing stock. I couldn't go out in public again. The Vanessa photos were bad, but these would be so much worse. At least I’d taken the Vanessa photos myself—chosen a somewhat flattering angle, discarded the photos I wasn’t happy with—even if I’d only intended them for her eyes only. But these photos…God only knew how ridiculous I looked.

Struggling for air, sweating, I stood and started pacing the room, going over all of our previous interactions in my mind. Had she been trying to get close to me all along so she could make money off me? Had she intentionally hit me with the stroller to meet me? Were the past few months all a lie? My stomach was in knots.

I shook my head, trying to clear it. No. Sophie wouldn’t do that to me. She was kind and trustworthy, more interested in helping others than in money or status. I’d never seen even a hint that she was capable of this kind of deception…But then I’d never thought Dad would leave me, or Vanessa would betray me, and look what happened with them. A wave of nausea washed over me, bile rising in my throat. I was a terrible judge of character.

I spent the next few hours pacing up and down, my mind racing and muddled from lack of sleep and the intensity of the emotions I was experiencing. At around four a.m., I concluded my worst fears had to be right. What other explanation could there be? Sam Reynolds was now in possession of extremely compromising photos of me. It was likely only going to be hours, maybe a day if I was lucky, until they were plastered all over the internet, and the humiliation would begin again. I wouldn't wait around for that to happen. Staying in the Castle, with all of its reminders of Sophie, was not an option. I started pulling on my clothes.

Alfie, who’d been roused from sleep by my feet thumping on the floorboards and had been trailing up and down behind me, jumped onto the bed, watching me with concern.

“We’re going for a walk, Alfie.”