Sofia holds up her hand. “Stop right there. I remember.”
“I don’t. Finish the story, Ty.”
She looks at me, eyes flickering as they drop to her empty glass.
He kicks a boot onto the table, leg high, pants ripped, and gestures while he explains, “It got quiet for a second, so I look over, right? And I see you’ve got the upper hand, she’s pinned now, and you’re just staring at each other, not moving. You remember this now?”
My chest tightens, because I do. “Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”
“Bullshit! You were looking at Sofia Sol like you did just now when she threw her head back. Transparent as hell and so fuckin’ stupid, too, because my mom was in the kitchen, happened to look out and saw you guys. Rapped on the window with her knuckles, pissed the hell off that I hadn’t put a stop to it before she made me. But you know what? I wanted to see where it went.”
Grey eyes are locked on me as she asks, “You were staring at me just now, Luke?”
Tyler quickly reassures us, words tripping over each other as he explains, “Hey, I’m not the Cipher-police here. I still want to see where it goes. I think it’s fucking fascinating that you’re still doing it after all these years…but not doing it. If you know what I mean.”
Ignoring him, she asks again, “Were you staring at me like that?”
I shout at the restaurant, “Can we get another round?” since we’re the only ones out here. Our server pokes her head out, and I spin my hand in a circle, gesturing for more booze. She nods and vanishes.
“That’s a yes,” Sofia flatly says.
I snatch a fork off the table, watching it spin in my fingers.
She snatches a tortilla chip from the basket and chews it with her mouth open to make as much noise as possible.
Tyler whistles under his breath and rises up. “On that note, kiddies, I’m gonna head back to the hotel, call my wife. Too much sexual tension here, and it’s got nothing to do with me. Later.”
“I just ordered another round.”
“Luke, you need two. Drink mine,” he chuckles. “Loosen up, man. Take a chance, you get me?” His phone vibrates and he digs it out, standing over the table and munching one last chip as he talks. “It’s my Mom checking on us again. Must have sensed me talking about her. Or sensed you staring at Sofia Sol like you want to eat her alive, again,” he grins, tipping his head in goodbye. “See you freaks in the morning at breakfast.” He opens the old wood door, stained-glass window in it shimmering as the thing slams behind him.
Sofia’s leg is bouncing on the chair as she glares at the table.
I’m tight-lipped, toss the fork and lean back, legs spread, fingers tapping my thighs.
Take a chance.
Take a chance.
Take a chance.
My gut is a tight ball of heat.
Head throbbing with consequences.
Eyes flitting to the woman who does this to me.
And has since I was a little kid.
No way is this smart.
Finally the waitress opens the door with her hip, three margaritas barely held in small hands, ice sloshing threats during hurried strides. “He said you still wanted three?”
Sofia Sol rolls her eyes. “Our friend thought he was being funny. And yes, thank you, I’ll drink them if he doesn’t.” She throws her thumb toward me.
We watch the woman until she’s gone. Picking up our glasses, third one unmanned, we bring them together. Bad luck if you don’t clink before you drink.
Tense as fuck, I say, “To old friends.”
Like she might throw the glass, she repeats, “To old friends.”
We drink, and her eyes widen as I down it, freezing my throat in the process. I pick up the other glass. Her eyebrows twitch with interest as I lick my lips, ready myself, and drink this one down, too.
On a quiet, “Well, okay then,” Soph downs hers, dropping the glass sideways on the table, ice spilling onto the plastic table cloth as we stare at each other, history gazing back.
I stand up, and she rises with me. She searches my face, lips parted with surprise. Her breath catches as I slip unsteady fingers into her hair, cup her head like I did in the garage. Our lips hover close, tinted with tequila. I brush mine against hers and she shivers for both of us. My cock is punishing me, throbbing, straining for freedom. My voice is shaking as self-control cracks and disappears. “I want you, Soph. I’ve been lying to you this whole time, not just here in Sedona, but every day I’ve acted like I don’t. Truth is I ache for you, when you’re near me, and it’s even worse when you’re not.” I brush against her again, come just short of pressing harder.
“Luke, oh my God,” she whispers, breath ragged.
“You okay?”
She shakes her head, eyelashes closing for a second. “No.”
“Me neither.” I gather her close, dipping her head back so I can gaze at her in a whole new way, up close and with nobody stopping me. “I hate that he had you first.”
“I wish I could take it back!”
“You want to take this back?” I kiss her for real, feel her body trembling as she responds. Our mouths open slightly and our tongues taste each other for the first time in our lives. I was born knowing this woman. They laid her down next to me in the hospital and she pulled my hair. Throwing food at her is my first memory. She helped me climb my first tree out in our yard. I told her when I lost my virginity, especially because she’d done it before me, and I was jealous. The first time I shot at a real person and not a target on our property, she was the one who ran to ask if I was okay. They’d gotten away and she knew I’d beat myself up for that. And millions of other memories
