17. Sophie

seventeen

Sophie

My lower jaw quivers as I crawl under my down comforter, hugging it tightly around my shoulders. My mind whirlwinds through all the emotions.

Confusion.

Sooo guilty, yet so swept off my feet.

Breathless.

More confused.

I honestly don’t know what happened!

I had a plan. It was strategic. A quick, almost funny kiss that I could blame on the wine tomorrow.

The plan didn’t stick.

When our gazes synced, my emotions emotioned hard , and I wasn’t pretending. Everything that happened in those three minutes on the porch was real—well, minus the wild monkeys, but how else was I going to explain a sneezing bush? Moses wouldn’t have believed it either.

Now, I'm wrecked.

I’m so conflicted because even though the kiss was genuine, the terms by which it started are so wrong. This is not a proper way to start a . . . thing? Whatever this is?

Do I tell him I had a little encouragement from Bill to kiss him?

Oh, no! I swipe a hand over my forehead, flushing at that idea.

I can’t tell him that!

But the money?

Yeah, I shake my head back and forth, even though no one can see it. There’s no way I’m taking the money. I’m so embarrassed I ever considered it.

But my tour crew won’t get a bonus.

My mind is a ping-pong match, pulling me in all directions.

I guess . . . I work harder to get the money from somewhere else.

Maybe delay the bonuses?

They will understand that, right?

I’m sure that will be fine.

But then back to Axl.

Does he have to know I tricked him?

I dig my teeth into my bottom lip, but that only makes me remember how it felt to have our lips tangled together. Kissing him was everything I imagined and so much more. The way his soft lips folded into mine, tucking and pulling in the gentlest way.

When I close my eyes, I can almost feel it happening all over again, and I never want to forget this feeling.

I faceplant into my pillow and suppress a scream. Part of me wants to squeal like a middle school girl who just had her first kiss but the other part…is so disappointed I didn’t do better.

What do I do now?

I wake up early and barely have one eye open when I spot a text from Axl flashing on my phone.

AXL: Good morning, beautiful.

So much guilt tsunamis over me while all the butterflies flutter to gather in my gut.

How can I experience two polar-opposite emotions at the same time? I cringe. Rocco and I dated for two years, and he never sent me a sweet good-morning text like that. How can this super sweet guy be right in front of my face this whole time, but I missed him until I’ve went too far?

I want to text back, letting him know I’m thinking about him, that I haven’t stopped thinking about him, and if I add any more thoughts to the already humongous pile of thoughts, my head will explode. As much as I’m ready to put all this fake dating behind me, there’s a niggling in the back of my head that says you have one chance to be honest before it gets out of hand. It’s a mere misunderstanding now. Fix it before it blows up and you destroy any real shot you have to be together.

I stare at my phone.

I mean . . . that’s so lame to say all that, especially in a text message.

He understands all the fake-dating stuff already.

Most of it.

I hug my pillow tightly against my chest, as if it has the power to help me come up with a solution. I weigh my options. Even if I do tell him everything, it’s best not to tell him over a text. Instead of blabbering out my confession, I play it safe.

Me: Good morning. You’re up early.

Axl: I get up at five to practice . . . gotta be there two hours before everyone else.

Axl: But it’s not like I slept. I kept thinking about our kiss.

Giving up, I drop my phone and facepalm my forehead. He wasn’t kidding that everything changed. He’s not even pretending to be cool about his feelings. I take another breath, but it does nothing to cleanse the quakes in my stomach.

Me: I’ve been thinking about you, too.

Almost simultaneously another text comes back.

Axl: I want to see you. Can you come to our home game tonight?

I’m about to type yes, when I pause and remember Bill saying he didn’t want us to have any more public appearances. But he didn’t really mean I couldn’t come. He meant he needed something else to prove our relationship, right?

I want to go.

There’s no reason for me not to go.

Everyone already thinks he’s my boyfriend.

Before I find another reason to doubt anything, I text back.

Me: I’ll be there.

Axl: All right, now that’s settled. I still want to see you. How about lunch? Red Barn Kebobs. I’ll pick you up.

As much as I love seeing him on ice, the whole public charade still scares me a little, but kebabs are totally my language. It’s an easy place to have lunch, and so perfect because it will give me a chance to be honest with him. Hopefully, he’ll laugh it off, and we’ll be able to move on, leaving this mess behind us.

Me: I’ll be ready whenever you are.

I take my time getting dressed, loving this whole change of pace lifestyle of being in Mapleton. As a teenager, I was in such a hurry to bust out of this place, hoping to make my mark on the world, that I never took the time to appreciate it. I tug on a bright pink sweater with a boatneck and adjust it several different ways. I’ve never been the girl to be able to wear a one-shoulder sweater and actually look poised. After years of having people dress me, I learned a few tips, one being that no matter what you wear, have at least one thing that you love. That enjoyment will elevate your mood, and that will overflow to your confidence.

Today, I need all of the confidence I can get. Pink is my favorite color—always has been and always will be—and I’m wearing pink in confidence.

Leaving my hair down, it falls naturally into beachy waves. I run a brush through it but don’t fuss any further. I know I’m about to meet Axl—the trembles in my palms tell me that much over and over—but I don’t have any desire to get overly made up. Maybe it’s because we’re going to a place called Red Barn, but I am ready to be regular me.

After making my way out to the porch, I sit on the swing, letting the tips of my toes graze the deck as I playfully move the swing back and forth. The memory of last night is on a big screen in my head. It doesn’t take long before Axl’s blue truck comes barreling down our narrow dirt road, crawling to a stop right in front of Bill’s bush. I bite back a giggle as I recall the sneeze.

That could have gone so badly!

Who would have guessed my dad’s wild monkey story would ever come in handy?

Axl jumps out of his truck, and I run to meet him. As we narrow the gap between us, I slow my steps, feeling a pause. Axl said something last night that made my heart squeeze tight, and I’m unsure if things might be awkward today. He doesn’t slow his stride, taking me right into a giant bear hug. I smile like I've never smiled before as he presses a kiss to my forehead, inhales deeply, and whispers, “You smell amazing.”

“You might be having those kabobs on the brain a little too much.” He snickers at my joke, but I don’t join him. I should be celebrating with all the fizzy bubbles of a new crush, but instead I’m flooding with guilt. The way his eyes graze over me with such pride, I wish I would have done what my gut told me to do and called Bill first thing this morning. I didn’t because I couldn’t be sure he wasn’t at the rink. I trust he’s careful about things, but I can’t risk Axl overhearing anything. I need to make sure when we do talk it’s private.

“Is there anything you need to warn me about these kabobs?” He laces his fingers between mine, and we stroll slowly down the drive, stealing glances at each other every other step.

“No, they’re fantastic, despite the scandalous origin story. Since they’re cooked over an open flame, most of the fat drips off, making them surprisingly healthy.” We arrive at the passenger side of the pickup, where he opens my door and reaches around, placing a hand on my hip. I assume he’s going to help me into his truck since it’s awfully high up, but instead he spins me around and slowly pushes me until my feet glide all the way back against the side of his truck. He playfully secures me there with his hand still on my hip. Not wasting a second to move in, he places his other hand on my chin and lowers his mouth until his roguish smile hovers over me, but neither of us move. We’re so close, that I can see each tiny dot where his whiskers were recently shaved, and even a few uncreased smile lines that don’t deepen with his usual smile. There’s a glint of excitement in the corner of his eyes, causing exhilaration to barrel into my chest. My emotions clog my throat, and all that pressure makes me feel as if my chest is about to cave in at any moment.

I’ve never had anyone look at me like this before, but I can’t take in the moment with this massive secret. My lips quiver as I test out words of confession. Before I can get anything out, he lowers his lips to mine, extending them into the sweetest of tender kisses, which becomes my undoing.

Kissing him is a reset button—a hard reset that wipes all my thoughts instantly, and the only thing that matters is the now. He and I and whatever this is, it all molds together so beautifully.

When he pulls away, his gaze dances over my face before he upgrades his smile to one that’s more feral. Before I know what’s going on, he scoops me up and places me in the truck. I force my jaw not to hang too low.

He’s treating me like a princess. This is the man I’ve dreamed of my whole life, and I'm ruining this moment with these obsessive thoughts. I need to tell him about the money, and hopefully we can laugh it off.

The sooner, the better.

It’s like ripping off a Band-Aid.

“Axl.” My voice is small but not weak. “I want to get some—”

“Hey.” A voice echoes from the porch. I cut a quick glance in that direction, but I already know it’s Sam, and he almost always has a water gun. “Where are you two sneaking off to?”

“Get in the truck!” I scream, grabbing Axl’s wrist, and yanking. I could kill Sam right now for interrupting us . Just one time I would like a little privacy!

Axl seems confused but eventually gives in and helps me pull him inside, rolling right over the top of me to find the driver’s seat. I slam my door as fast as I can before pounding my finger on the automatic lock button, trapping us inside. “Sorry.” I puff out waves of laughter as I try to get in a deep breath. “I didn’t mean to become unhinged on you, but Sam always has a water gun.”

Axl tips his head back, and a deep belly laugh rolls out. He casually reaches behind his seat. It looks like a stretch at first.

That’s what I tell myself.

A little odd.

But hockey players are insanely flexible.

Suddenly, my heart slams against my chest, and I jump as he whips out a giant water gun. “You mean like this one?” His grin is savage as he blasts me at point-blank range, and I shrink, grappling for the door handle, but it’s locked! I take too long to find the lock before I practically fall out of the truck and race to the house.

But there’s Sam at his post from the front step, and he has a long barrel gun with serious range.

And he’s in on it too!

It’s insanity that these two guys have only known each other for less than twenty-four hours, and they’ve already teamed up against me. I never expected that. I’m without ammo and options, and I throw up my hands. “You guys fight unfairly. I give up!”

Axl jogs back down the drive, laughing so hard he’s about to drop to his knees. Sam’s snickering from the step, his gun hanging at his side.

“How did you guys even coordinate this?” I bristle, swiping my gaze from one perpetrator to the other, not sure what way I should walk as I am in the middle of the driveway.

It’s Sam’s turn to speak up, revealing how conniving he is. “I saw your phone on the counter this morning with a text from Axl.”

“You looked at my phone!” My jaw drops, and I’m once again reminded how annoying little brothers can be. “Those are private conversations.”

“Then maybe you should have a different password than your birthday.”

“Shh!” Frantically waving, I try to cover his blurting. It’s no use, and my words fall into laughter, as I know he’s right. “I guess so,” I mutter, pretending to be hurt. I throw my hand back up, tossing a glance back to Axl, both our smiles still beaming, “Now what? We are back where we were last night. It's too cold to walk around in wet clothing. Both of us need a change of clothes, and our plans for food are thwarted.”

His brows bead together. “Why do you say that?”

“You need to get to the arena for pregame warmups. Do you have time to wait for me to change and still drive all the way to town?”

“This is where you underestimated my strategizing.” He wags a playfully cocky finger in my direction as he takes a step back. “I already grabbed the kabobs on my way over here. I have them in the truck, and I bought enough for everyone.”

My lips fall apart, revealing my surprise. “You did?”

“Yeah.” He takes another step backwards toward his truck. “Figured it was my turn to treat.” He pivots around, striding to his truck, and as I watch him, my heart flutters little baby flutters that whisper, This guy can’t be for real .

It’s one thing to have chemistry.

It’s another thing to be able to be playful and laugh until your stomach hurts.

But finding a man who fits in with my family . . .

Axl Erikson, you just stole a hockey-puck-sized piece of my heart.