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And there’s still no relief to my anger. Or my restlessness.
I need something else to relieve my stress.
Something I’ve been needing for a long time.
I pick up my phone again, ignoring the sting and ache in my hand, and text Sophie. I don’t say hello. I don’t ask her how she’s doing. I don’t type out a single syllable of small talk. All I enter into the text field is a time, a day, and an address. And then I hit send.
There. It’s done.
I need to see her. There’s an edge to it that feels almost desperate.
As if the only thing that can tame the beast inside me… is her.
Chapter 23
Sophie
I almost drop my phone—and the bag of groceries I’m carrying—when I see who just texted me. Declan. Just like he said he would.
I’m halfway between the bodega and my apartment when the message comes through, and all it contains is a time, day, and address.
That’s it, then. This is really happening.
I had my doubts. Chalked everything up to a fever dream. But Declan is apparently actually serious about this whole meeting up after work and working out all this building sexual tension, and now I’m actually looking forward to it.
As nerve wracking as it is.
I hurry the last block home and knock on Reagan’s door before I even bother going to my own apartment to put away the groceries. When she answers, I simply hold out the phone, cued up to the text.
She squeals and jumps up and down. “It’s really happening!” she cheers, echoing my thoughts from first getting the message. “Come on. Let’s get those groceries put away and start planning. I can’t believe he gave you a day’s notice. Is that weird? Or nice?”
“I still feel like this isn’t really happening,” I admit, leading Reagan to my apartment and taking the groceries out of the bag. I just bought the basics—it’s so hard to resist going out to eat at New York’s myriad restaurants. I actually rebalanced my budget to accommodate my hunger for trying new things.
“Understandable,” Reagan reasons, tapping against my countertop. “And, full disclosure, I’m really excited for you. You light up when you talk about him to me. It’s totally a thing. But Sophie?” She snags my hand and holds it for a second, keeping me from putting the carton of milk in the fridge. “I’m a little worried.”
“That makes two of us,” I say, gently dislodging myself so that I can finish my chore. “Why are you worried?”
“Because it’s risky. Because it puts your job at risk.” Reagan wrinkles her nose. “You love that job. And you love that guy. But can you really have them both?”
“Okay, first of all, it’s not love,” I inform her. “I mean, for the job, yes. Of course. Definitely love. Passion, even. But for Declan… it’s lust. Pure lust.”
“So how are you walking that tightrope?” Reagan asks. “Because that’s what it is, Soph. A balancing act. And I’m not sure you have a safety net beneath you.”
“I know. You know that I know.” I lean over the counter and put my head in my hands. “But it’s like I can’t help myself. Ever since that night when we had each other, no strings and no expectations, I’ve only wanted him. When this chance presented itself, I couldn’t say no. I can’t. I won’t. I’m afraid that something is going to happen if we can’t cool things down a little between us.”
Reagan laughs. “That’s crazy. Most people bang so that they can grow a relationship. Or because they want things to keep getting hotter and hotter. You’re agreeing to hook up with your boss to try to defuse the situation.”
“It’s the only thing I can think of to relieve the pressure,” I protest. “You don’t see how it is at work. Something is going to give, and I don’t want there to be any regrets.”
“There haven’t been any regrets so far because neither of you have given in to the other,” Reagan reminds me carefully.
“I know. But it’s like I’m going to combust if we don’t do something.”
“There’s a saying for that,” she says, patting me on the head. “If you play with fire, you might just get burned.”
“I might just be willing to get burned to taste it again,” I admit, my face flushing.
* * *
