And over the next few hours, he became acutely aware of every sound Sophie made: when she went quiet thinking through a line or an idea, when she got up to take a steam room or sauna break, and when her head fell back and onto the lounge chair in frustration.
As she slowed her typing and began to nibble the tip of her index finger, he decided to make himself useful. He stood up, and made his way to the snack bar. In typical Poppy fashion, none of the snacks were his version of a good time. But still, he knew they were things Sophie would love. He grabbed a hot-pink plate and used a pair of tongs to pile on dried apricots, date bites, and something called a detox bar. As he turned around, he came face-to-face with Poppy, who cocked her head in an inquisitive way.
“You never come here, even when I offer to give you free services.” She crossed her arms. “Speaking of, do you want to try some filler for those under-eye circles?”
She playfully poked at his cheek, and he swatted her away. “You’re right, it’s so weird that I never come here when it’s always such a nice experience.” He glanced over to where Sophie sat. She’d stopped typing altogether, and he wanted to bring her the plate of snacks as writing fuel.
Poppy glanced to where Sophie was. “So, you and Sophie are friends now?”
He frowned. Maybe they were friends. He’d said they’d be friends. And now they were hanging out. Of course, he had also nearly come in his pants as she rode his face the other day, but...that wasn’t something Poppy needed to know about. “Yeah, I guess we are.”
“And she’s writing again, huh?”
“She is.” Why did he feel personal pride about that? He wasn’t the one writing, she was. Still, just by being next to her he felt like he’d been part of her process in some way.
“Good job. Maybe you aren’t totally worthless.”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”
“You should come here again. I like seeing your face.” Poppy gave him a pat on the shoulder.
And Dash liked being there, too. He realized that he and his family rarely came to Poppy’s spa, even though it was wildly successful. His parents always prioritized the Hollywood industry above all else, including their daughter’s self-made business. Dash was going to make a point of trying to visit and support his sister more often.
“I will,” he quickly said.
Poppy smiled at him. “Take care of her. She’s in a vulnerable place,” his sister said before heading back through the Employees Only door.
Dash swallowed down a little lump of apprehension as he looked back to Sophie. He wanted more than anything to be the person who could take care of Sophie. But how could someone as flawed as he was be trusted with someone as important as her?
21
SOPHIE
Sophie had turned a corner. She’d glanced down the road of the blank page, started typing, and turned right onto a street filled with words. Two thousand of them, to be exact. Sure, she’d started a totally new project instead of focusing on the one she was under contract for, but she’d filled up pages—plural. She felt so exhilarated by the feel of the keys under her fingers that she hardly noticed when Dash set a snack dish down on the side table next to her.
But, of course, she did notice because there was Dash’s earthy scent.
“Thanks.” She grabbed a dried apricot from the plate and met his gaze.
“How’s the new project?” He sat back into the lounge chair; swaddled in the robe, with his legs crossed at the ankles, and a book in his hands, Dash looked positively cozy. Adorable. Sophie had to stop herself from shutting her laptop and climbing into his lap for a cuddle.
“Probably garbage.” She chewed the piece of fruit. “All of my first drafts are. But it feels good to see words on a page again.” She gave him a pure and genuinely pleased smile because that’s exactly what she was.
“It’s nice to see you excited like this.” His eyes danced across her face, and she felt herself flush.
She looked down at her screen and the battery power was now in the red. Which was probably for the best anyway. Her hands were starting to cramp from trying to remember how to work, and she wasn’t sure she could take the heat of Dash’s gaze on her for much longer.
The man was like a damn human sauna. She’d need a bucket of ice water to stop thinking about how underneath that robe he was only wearing a pair of boxers...
“I didn’t bring my charger,” she quickly said. Sophie closed the laptop and ran her hands over the top of it. She had written. She was still a writer. There was hope.
“Should we head out?” Dash had already swung his legs around and stood.
Sophie sat up and tucked her laptop under her arm. She was ready to leave, but Dash stopped her. “Don’t forget to take your organic gluten-free collagen bar for the road.”
He tried to hide his cocky smile, but she clocked it as she snatched the bar off the plate and shoved it into the pocket of her robe. As she stood, they were eye-level, and she tried not to think of pulling his robe off with her teeth.
Not an easy thing to not think about, really.
As they left the spa, the summer swelter had cooled and the sun set behind them, turning the sky to the color of orange clay.
“You have no idea how amazing it feels to have written pages after going so long without having produced anything.” Sophie buckled herself in beside him, and he revved the engine as they backed out of the parking lot. “I have to thank you for getting me out of my own way. I wouldn’t have written anything today if you hadn’t helped. You’re a good man, Dash Montrose.”
Dash, who was maybe not that great with compliments, deflected. “What did you write about?”
“I did what you suggested and started something new. I’m still stuck on my book, but I started a few pages from the point of view of a spa owner. I think she’ll fall in love with one of the employees. Maybe it could be my book three.” She playfully raised her brows.
Wind whipped softly through the open windows of the car and blew Dash’s hair over the top of his sunglasses. Her gaze lingered on him for a moment too long, and when he looked over she had to quickly turn away, hoping he hadn’t noticed.
“If you’re writing about a spa, is there a happy-ending massage scene in there somewhere?” Dash sounded cheeky, but Sophie also sensed some heat behind his words. Or was she still so worked up from seeing him in a robe that she was adding that heat in?
“Only if I want to have a lot of fun while I’m writing, yeah.” She chuckled back.
Then they both went quiet. So quiet that all she could hear was the road. But there was unspoken tension between them, something almost chemical.
And that chemical attraction could no longer be ignored. “I guess I might need to do some research,” she finally said. She placed her hand on his knee, and as he looked over, his eyes burned back at her.