Sophie would honestly love to go back to the effortless chatter they’d had the day before, but now she wasn’t sure how to act around Dash. Where were they supposed to go from there? And based on Dash’s still-present scowl, it was entirely possible that he regretted their night together. She couldn’t wrap her head around what he was getting from their situation anyway. She’d puked on him, talked his ear off about tractors, and indirectly been the cause of him being stranded with a broken-down car. She understood her attraction to Dash—he was basically the real-life version of the brooding men she saw illustrated on romance covers—but had he only made out with her because he was feeling vulnerable?
She had no idea. But her phone pinged and snapped her out of the staring contest she was having with the road. She blinked and snuck a look at Dash, who watched her out of the corner of his eye. Was he just counting down the minutes until they got home so he could pretend this whole thing never happened? She pulled the phone from her dress pocket and had a new notification in her group chat.
Nina: How was the trip?
Sophie typed, I’m only just heading back now, actually...
Poppy: Don’t tell me my brother left you. I will kill him.
Sophie wanted a sinkhole to appear in the floor of the car and swallow her up. Poppy was her best friend. Dash was her best friend’s brother. Sophie was...a monster. A terrible friend. What had she been thinking by straddling Dash’s lap? Best friends shouldn’t ride their best friend’s brother’s dicks...right?
Her stomach churned at the thought of Poppy discovering the truth. Their friendship wouldn’t survive the fact that Sophie had been so selfish and betrayed her. As those thoughts swirled through her, Sophie blurted out, “We can’t tell your sister.”
Dash did not immediately agree, the way she’d assumed he would. Instead, he kept his eyes on the road—either being a great driver or finding an easy excuse to avoid her—and simply said, “Okay.”
“Okay? Just, okay? If she finds out, I’m pretty sure she’ll kill me. Maybe both of us?” Sophie’s shoulders went up to her ears at the thought. “You’ve seen how she gets when she’s mad. One time, at the spa, someone on staff accidentally ate her vegan queso, and Poppy had to lock herself in the meditation room because she didn’t want to shout while there were clients in the middle of sessions.”
She was talking very quickly, but it was all true. Poppy was not a forgiving person. She held grudges. And she and Dash could never, ever tell Poppy about the night they’d had.
“There’s nothing to tell, really. We just kissed.” He shrugged, but Sophie frowned. Sure, she supposed they had just kissed, but...hadn’t it been more?
“Did you get the answers you needed from Ned?” Dash continued.
Sophie blinked at the mention of her ex’s name. Had she gotten the answers she needed? “Well, he told me my standards are too high. I don’t know, maybe he’s right. I guess I can be—”
Dash cut her off by loudly blowing air through his lips. “Men tell women they have high standards when they can’t meet them. Your standards are exactly as they should be. He’s just not good enough for you.”
Sophie’s cheeks burned hot, but she wasn’t sure if it was because what he’d said sounded like a compliment or that he’d defended her. Dash being on her side made her straighten in her seat, like he was physically lifting her up. Which was when she knew she needed to ask the question she didn’t actually want an answer to. “So what should we do about what happened last night?”
Dash’s grip tightened on the steering wheel, then he looked at her, and time slowed as his gaze met hers. She’d seen this heartfelt expression from him before in one of his movies. Was he putting on a show for her now, or was he being genuine? She couldn’t exactly tell.
“I like you, Soph,” he said.
“I like you, too.” She smiled as she said the words back. Maybe their kissing had been more. Sure, Ned had accused her of living a fantasy life, but this was starting to feel like a fantasy coming true. Except as the words came out, she instantly wanted to kick herself: Dash’s face shifted into something unreadable. This was the moment she’d feared was coming—the rejection—still, she somehow wasn’t prepared.
He licked his lips before continuing. “I’m just not in a place where I can get serious with anyone right now.”
“Right.” Her index finger absentmindedly tapped at her pacemaker. “Why—why is that?”
She knew the why, though. It was the same reason all of her relationships ended: there was something deeply wrong and flawed about Sophie.
“I’ve only been in recovery for eighteen months.” His voice had lost all the softness it once held, and instead he sounded almost mechanical and completely unlike the man she’d grown to know. “Technically, it’s okay if I date after twelve months. But I don’t feel ready to do that yet. All of my energy has to be focused on staying sober.”
“No, I—I get that.” She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and looked down at her feet. Part of her knew they couldn’t exist outside of that room in Ojai, but hearing it still hurt.
“I’m sorry, Soph.” His hand gently fell to her knee, and his warm palm easily rested against her cool, freckled skin. “I know you’re looking to fall in love, and I won’t get in the way of that.”
Right. The whole point of meeting up with her exes was so that she could eventually fall in love and get back to writing the books she and her mom had always dreamed of. Her career and future were on the line. So what if kissing Dash had felt like the only right move she’d made in months? Her night with him was a distraction, if anything. And she needed to cut him loose before she lost sight of her end goals: finding a way back to writing.
Still, she needed some clarification. “So, what are we, then? I know last night wasn’t serious or anything...” She lied, because while last night had just been kissing, the whole thing had felt special, somehow. She’d sensed that he didn’t let just anyone behind the high walls he’d built, but she’d made her way to him. He didn’t seem like a casual-fling kind of person but, apparently, he didn’t do serious either. So what the hell had their night been?
“We’re...friends.” He looked to her, as if for reassurance. “And I hope we can stay friends.”
Sophie nodded back, even though she did not kiss her other friends or grab their asses while she ground against them. The part of her that had opened itself to Dash started to close again. A kind of resignation filled her throat instead of the frantic butterflies she’d had hours earlier.
“I just can’t risk—” he shook his head “—I can’t risk relapsing.”
“No, I don’t want that either,” she said emphatically. Suddenly, she felt more than a little selfish for wanting anything from him. She didn’t know much about sobriety—she made a mental note to do research—but she didn’t want to be the reason he couldn’t stay sober. And she didn’t want to lose him as a friend either. She liked being around Dash. And she wouldn’t hold it against him that he couldn’t date her.
But then, what was she going to do about that part of her that still wanted to grab his ass?
She shook that thought off. “We can just pretend last night didn’t happen.”
He began to slowly nod. “Okay.”