I’ve never been attracted to anyone like I’m drawn to Sophie. I want to take every bit of her, and that’s exactly what I did. Every single piece of her was mine.
She’s used to fighting; her mother made sure of that.
When I didn’t fight back, she left me.
When I did fight back, she left me.
I know how to hold her when she needs me to, and back then, she needed my touch often. I have no fucking idea how to hold on to her though when she doesn’t want it, but I’m not going to back down. I did once, and it left me desolate for three years, waiting for her to come back.
I know she wants me the way I want her. That’s the only thing that matters.
Chapter 8
Sophie
Seven years ago
I don’t want to go home, so I stay here with Madox. I’m not his girlfriend though and that makes me feel a certain way. A way that’s uncomfortable. A way that makes me feel ashamed.
I’m afraid to ask him if I can call him my boyfriend. I’m afraid to push him away. His stubble is scratchy when he kisses my bare shoulder and I have to shudder which makes him chuckle behind me.
That sound makes me smile. The sound of him happy.
“Madox?” I whisper, staring ahead at a dresser that isn’t mine but one he filled with clothes for me. “What are we?” I don’t know what he’ll think of the question.
“We don’t have to put a label on it, Soph. Just let it be,” he tells me. It’s easy for him to let it be. He doesn’t understand how I feel. How could he?
I should tell him, but I’m ashamed, and it’s easier to run away from your everything, than it is to know that you’ve lost it.
Today
Okay, so I got drunk and slept with Madox.
And maybe it was more than sex.
And maybe I’m having a hard time pretending like I don’t still have feelings for him even if it’s not the same to him. Yes, I know we’ll never be able to be together because we simply aren’t on equal footing. He’s so much more than I will ever be.
So, should I have slept with him last night…? No.
If I took a poll, I’m sure half of Manhattan would raise their hand and say they’ve done the same damn thing or something like it. Well, not with Madox, but with their exes or former lovers. It happens.
I was only tipsy, not drunk, but I’m still going to blame it on Ryan and the shot he bought me. I’m going to kick him in the dick the next time I see him too, for leaving me alone with Madox the second he could. Figuratively, not literally.
He knew what he was doing.
My phone buzzes with yet another message from my nosy bestie who could have given me a heads-up about last night. She had to have known, although she keeps telling me she had no idea.
So then what? Trisha’s text makes me roll my eyes. I only told her I ran into Ryan and Madox last night. She didn’t ask about her brother, so something tells me she already knew.
All of her questions this morning have revolved around Madox. That whole crew seems to be seriously invested in knowing the details of what’s going on between us. It’s like we’re their only entertainment and the rest of them are just sitting in a circle, passing around the popcorn.
We hooked up, I text her and then quickly add, I couldn’t help myself.
“Would you like to order anything while you wait?” The waiter’s voice makes me jump in my seat and he apologizes, but I wave it off.
“Just nervous for my first meeting on the job.” I shake my head, swallowing thickly before realizing what he asked and reply, “Just water for now, please.” As he nods and makes to leave, I’m quick to add, “And a coffee.” He smiles and nods.
It’s not until he’s gone that I look back down at my phone.
I never told you – but he asked about you all the time. I didn’t want you to feel guilty.
My fingers hover over the keys, but I don’t write anything back. I can’t believe she never told me.
I had no idea he ever even thought about me. A little hurt, along with a lot of betrayal stir inside of me, and I know I shouldn’t text her back right now. How could she never tell me?
How could he never tell me either?
Madox is good at telling people what to do, which made us bump heads a lot. It led to some awful moments. It led to some great moments too. He’s really good at giving demands; he’s shit at talking about how he feels though. At least with me. At least back then.