“Sophie?”
She startled and her head pivoted toward Carla’s voice. There was her ex, Carla Shah, standing on the sidewalk with her glasses lowered down the bridge of her nose and her mouth open in confusion. Tall and slim, with a wavy chocolate-brown shoulder-length bob, she wore high-waisted silk shorts and a white button-down top. Her lacy black bra was just visible through the shirt, and the subtle sexiness made her even chicer.
Sophie attempted to remove herself from the dumpster situation but stumbled against one of the trash bins. A loose bag fell from the top and cascaded across her head and shoulders in a trash-filled shower.
“What the—” Sophie shouted. Her hands scrambled to brush away the pieces of paper, plastic containers, and old food. Her voice was thick with humiliation as she said, “I think there’s wasabi in my eyebrow. This isn’t happening, is it?”
“Unfortunately, it is.” And then there were Carla’s hands, which flew around Sophie’s face, clearing off trash and picking a used wet wipe out of her hair. “What were you doing back here?”
“I don’t know!” Sophie did know, though, but didn’t want to say Hiding from you. Once the trash was cleared from her body, including a packet of soy sauce she’d had to pluck from her cleavage, she moved away from the dumpsters and attempted to salvage the situation.
“Could we just pretend this never happened and start with me saying that I really love the new haircut?” Sophie asked.
And, to Sophie’s relief, Carla let out a generous chuckle, then closed the gap between them and pulled her in for a hug before she could even respond. The vanilla bourbon of her perfume surrounded Sophie as she hugged her back. Being wrapped in Carla’s arms felt familiar and safe, just as she’d remembered.
And as Carla guided them both into the restaurant, a firm hand on Sophie’s lower back, for a moment it felt like no time had passed. But then, she remembered Dash’s hand on her back as he...
“You okay?” Carla asked.
“Yup.” Sophie willed the memory from her thoughts and forced a smile. “More than okay.”
The restaurant was all low lighting meant to imitate the soft glow of candles, and chill hip-hop music played in the background. At the table next to them, two women posed for a selfie together while a waiter entered their order into an iPad.
Carla sat and crossed one long leg over the other, her skin gleaming as if buttered. Sophie could remember the feel of being caught up in those legs, but she dismissed the thought quickly.
“This place is secretly owned by Leo DiCaprio and impossible to get reservations for,” Carla said in a low tone. “But his cousin is a client.” She shrugged, like it was no big deal that she’d called in a favor to Leonardo DiCaprio’s cousin for their date.
Sophie leaned across the table, aware of how it would emphasize her cleavage, and said, “Since you were nice enough to get us in, then I’m going to be nice and let you order for us.”
Carla had always loved ordering for them—she was a self-proclaimed foodie. She licked her lips, then said, “You won’t regret this.”
“Unless you order too much food.” Sophie raised a brow, and a grin crossed Carla’s lips. On their first date ever, when Sophie was trying to impress her, she’d eaten all the sushi that Carla had ordered—too much—and proceeded to feel nauseous immediately after.
“You just have to remember to share what I order,” Carla said.
“Sharing is wildly overrated.”
Sophie was surprised that the conversation was easier than expected. Part of her had anticipated that this dinner would mostly be hashing things out, something they’d never had the chance to do, but maybe they could just move past their old issues and start fresh.
Carla reached across the table and tucked a loose strand of hair behind Sophie’s ear. The graze of those fingertips shot a little shiver down her, and Carla let her hand linger as she studied Sophie’s face.
“That wasn’t another soy sauce packet, right?” Sophie joked.
“No, it’s just really good to see you,” Carla said.
“I’ve missed you.” Sophie flinched, as she hadn’t meant to say that out loud—it was a thought she’d have about once a month, then bury. Carla had been the one person she’d never gotten over. A relationship that stuck in her mind and when she got lonely, or tangled up with a vibrator, she often pictured Carla there with her. Though lately, when she thought about touching herself, it wasn’t Carla’s face that came to mind...
Carla’s eyes flitted over Sophie’s breasts, then back to her mouth, and she licked her lips. “We have a lot to catch up on. I was surprised to see you telling the world that love wasn’t real.”
“Oh, that?” Sophie fake laughed, then shriveled as she remembered that Carla had seen the video. “Just trying to spread the good word.”
“So you still haven’t fallen in love, huh?” Carla asked.
“I haven’t. I think you know I haven’t.” Sophie wondered if she should say the thought that had come to mind. But before she could stop herself, the words tumbled out. “I could have, though, with you.”
Carla studied her. “I didn’t get that sense when we were together.”
Sophie had absolutely nothing to lose, so she pressed on, “You never even told me why you broke up with me.”
Carla smoothed the fabric of her shorts across her thighs. “Sophie, do you remember the first time I told you I loved you?”
“Yes.” She did. Of course she did. They’d been lying in bed with their bodies tangled up in the sheets and each other and been just drifting off. And Carla had reached over, pushed hair behind Sophie’s ear, then whispered, I love you. And Sophie knew she should say it back. They’d been dating for six months. That’s what you did when someone loved you. But the truth was, she hadn’t loved Carla back. Or maybe she had. She wasn’t sure what her feelings were, but she couldn’t say the words. So instead, she’d kissed Carla long, and hard, and then made love to her. The only way she could express what she’d felt.
And the next morning, over tea and croissants, Carla told her she didn’t need to hear it back until Sophie was ready. But then a month passed, and another, and eventually Carla ended their relationship.
“You were so closed-off with your feelings. But I thought that if I gave you a little push, you might fall with me.” Carla’s gaze flicked over Sophie’s face.
“I’m sorry.” She instinctively reached a hand toward Carla, then stopped herself. “I wanted to get there, but I needed more time.”