6. Sophie

six

Sophie

“Soph!” Mom hollers as she strolls up the country driveway from getting the mail down by the highway mailbox. The front door cracks open, and I both hear her bellowing and feel the crisp October air creep over the wood floors, chilling my toes.

“What do you need, Mama?” I meet her at the door, ready to close out the cold air for good.

“I was out getting the mail, and Norma came over, and boy, she has some interesting news.”

“Who’s needing prayers this week?” I roll my eyes. Small-town gossip is too much for me. It’s still freezing in our old farmhouse despite the door being closed, and I hug my arms across my chest as I follow Mama back to the living room.

“Apparently you.” Mama’s green eyes, which match mine, widen with interest while the tips of her lips bend into a smirk. “Have you been getting swept off your feet by some hockey player?”

“What?” My cheeks glow even though I know exactly what she's talking about. I saw the photo earlier, and I have no idea what photo shopping program they used to make it look so real, but Axl was hot. Beads of sweat were rolling down his temples as if he was struggling not to consume me. Just thinking about the photo makes me blush, which is good. I want people to blush. Like Rocco. But I never thought for a second my mama would see it. I drop the weight off one of my legs and lean on the arm of the sofa. “It was a PR thing.”

“I don’t know about that.” Mama pulls out her phone, attempting to scroll for the photo. “It didn’t say you were selling anything.”

“Not for sales.” I cover her phone screen with my hand and stare at her until she locks her gaze back on me. “Just to try to get the team more fans. It’s really nothing.”

“If you say so.” Letting out a suggestive whistle, her eyes widen as she mumbles, “You two do make a lovely couple.”

“Mama.” I enforce discipline in my tone and slide farther down onto the sofa, twisting my body until I crash flat on my back in the center and cover my face with my hands as I try not to get defensive. “It’s just work.”

“How do I apply for that job?” Laughter bubbles in her throat, and I give in. We’ve always been close, sharing our secrets like sisters. I can tell she’s not saying many of the things she wants to say, and I appreciate her giving me some space. In a way, it’s also fun to hear her tease me about him because he is sooo handsome. My face heats when I recall how it felt to be in his arms. If he was my boyfriend for real, I’d feel so safe. A special compartment in my heart swells as I think about what it would be like if those photos had been real. Still, it doesn’t pay to talk about it because there wasn’t much to talk about. Just one photo.

My stomach rumbles for the first time since I got dumped. It’s a good sign, as it shows that my appetite is coming back. Before I can ask what’s for dinner, my phone vibrates in the center pocket of my oversized sweatshirt, stealing my attention. Bill Baker’s name is flashing on the screen.

“I better take this upstairs.” I jump to my feet and don’t look back, because I can already see my mom’s smirk. As I head upstairs, I press the phone to my ear. “Hello?”

“Well done!” he exclaims, a jolly laugh rolling out.

“Thanks.” I hesitate, unsure why he’s calling when our agreement is finished. “Did you need my agent’s number?”

“Nope. I’m calling to invite you to the game tomorrow. I’ll get you a box seat right next to me. Best seats in the house. It’s the least we can do to show you our appreciation.”

“Well . . .” I suck in a deep breath, as hockey isn’t my thing, and I search for polite words to say that I want to be left alone. The photo is out, and even my mom is blushing. It’s apparently working. “That’s awfully nice of you, but I’m afraid I’m busy. I have to reschedule my concerts and get back—”

“Did you happen to see the video of Rocco and that blonde in the Bahamas?”

“What?” My brows bead together as my mind gets whiplash from the sudden change of conversation. “I’m lost.”

“Yep, about an hour after we leaked your photo, a semi-blurry image of Rocco and some blonde on the beach in the Bahamas was published on his Instagram.”

“Rocco doesn’t have Instagram.”

“Oh, he does now, and it’s filled with photos of him and this lady friend.”

This is a game.

I run my hand through my hair and my fingers snag at the ends, reminding me I haven’t even brushed it today. It’s been one of those recovery days. I don’t want to have to do anything, least of all talk about Rocco and some woman. Rocco and I had planned a trip to the Bahamas. I can’t believe he took some girl on our trip. My heart flips and twists, and now I’m about to throw up. I wish I could be strong and ignore these feelings, but it’s still raw. Rocco humiliated me, and even though I vowed to not waste any more feelings on him, I’m disgusted.

Does he think I care who he spends time with?

Does he think I care if he’s moved on three days after our public breakup?

He’s off on a “honeymoon” with some bimbo, and I’m hiding out in the middle of nowhere, trying to figure out what I did wrong. The only thing I did wrong was love him. I wish with all my strength I could flip a switch and get over him, but the amount of anxiety flooding my body right now tells me I’m clearly not.

“You can look it up if you want.” Bill’s suggestion interrupts my heartbreaking all over again.

“I don’t want to see it.” Parking one hand on my hip, both to steady myself and assert control, I force myself to accept the situation—and his gift. Clearly God put Bill in my life for this very purpose—to help me cope with this humiliation—and just like that, I’m ready to deal. “What’s the plan? Another leaked photo?”

“Come to the game.” His voice is smooth, enticing. “Play the role of supportive girlfriend. We’ll take care of the rest.”

“Okay.” I nod, ready to show Rocco I’m not sitting around crying about him. “I’ll be there.”