“I know I can, which is maybe the strangest part of all of this. Not because you’re strange, or anything. Wow, I’m starting to ramble the way you do.”
“Uh, easy on the compliments, Dash. You’re going to make me swoon here.”
He laughed, but then his expression turned serious. “What I’m trying to say is that it’s easy to joke, because then we don’t have to think about it. But that was a big deal for me. And I’m just really happy. I like being around you.”
His gaze on her was so earnest and vulnerable, but she looked away. She hadn’t expected him to open up to her, and now that he had she almost wished he hadn’t. Because he’d also made it clear that they would never be more than just friends with benefits, and she didn’t want to fall for him any more than she already was. Not when she wanted someone to love her in return.
22
DASH
Dash waited for Sophie to say something. He’d just revealed his feelings—a thing he never did—but she’d helped him to get to this place where he could be honest. Now he just had to see how she would respond.
But not knowing how someone would react was a special kind of torture. And as Sophie blew out a massive breath and brought her knees to her chest, he realized with a sinking weight in the pit of his stomach that he’d miscalculated.
“I don’t even know how to say this.” She avoided meeting his eyes. “But I think I fucked up. Like, I know you don’t want a relationship, or anything, but I do. In the past, I have this problem with not speaking up about what I need. And what I need right now is someone who wants to be with me.”
“Right,” Dash said. Of course she deserved an actual relationship. And while he’d expressed that she made him happy, that wasn’t the same thing she needed. If he was a stronger person who wasn’t terrified of losing their sobriety, he would commit to her. But he couldn’t, not when he knew that committing to someone could mean a relapse. Yes, he wanted to be with Sophie. And maybe someday he’d be ready for that, but not today.
His tongue was leaden as he searched for the right words to say, but in very Sophie fashion, she filled the silence. “And I, uh, just started seeing someone. We’re not exclusive, or anything, yet.”
“That’s great, Soph,” he forced himself to say. And he should be happy for her, but he absolutely wasn’t.
“Yeah.” She looked down at the bed and brushed a piece of lint from the duvet. “Yeah, um, it’s great. But what happened today just has to be it, you know? Like, I know we said it was a onetime thing before, but then we...”
He hesitated, but of course what happened today wouldn’t happen again. If she was starting to date someone, then she couldn’t keep being with him. He gave her what he hoped was an understanding smile. “Of course.”
“Okay. I’m sorry. I feel so ridiculous that I’m even bringing this up, but I promised myself to be more honest about what I need. I just really want to try to give this new thing a chance. I can’t do that if we’re...” She rapidly blinked, as if to fill in the blanks.
“Who are you seeing?” He sounded defensive and, he supposed, he was. He aggressively tugged his T-shirt back on and was grateful that it covered his face as she answered.
“Carla.”
Dash cracked his neck as he adjusted the shirt. “And you’re happy with her?”
He nearly shook his head for asking the question because, again, her choices were truly none of his business. But he liked Sophie as a person, and she deserved to find someone who appreciated all the cracks that made her so perfectly unique. Was Carla the right one? He had no idea, but he wanted to make sure Sophie was certain, if only because the friend part of their relationship was still important.
“I am.” Sophie rubbed her elbow with her free hand. Then she stood from the bed, grabbed her clothes from the floor, and slipped into her dress. “I think we could make it work. The last time we dated, I wasn’t true to myself. I just hope she likes what she sees this time around.”
“Of course she will.” His chest tightened. Of course Carla would like Sophie, more than like—she’d love her. And she’d find her happily-ever-after without him in it. He knew he needed to let her go, but he couldn’t help but feel like part of him would be hollow when she left.
“You’re a really good guy, Dash.” Her eyes finally met his, and he stopped himself from moving to hold her. She wasn’t his to hold.
“I want you to hear me when I say this, okay?” She waited for him to acknowledge her, but all he could do was swallow down his panic at losing her. “You deserve to be loved, deeply. Please remember that.”
Eventually, she walked over to him, grabbed his shoulder, and softly kissed his cheek. He closed his eyes. The kiss was friendly. Sweet. He shouldn’t have been bothered, but he also didn’t know how to think of her as someone else’s girlfriend. They fit together as naturally as his own hands forming clay. But what she wanted was so far from what he was able to offer, and he wasn’t about to make her think otherwise. She deserved a relationship, and he would let her have one. Even if it was with someone else.
Without lingering—because, really, what more was there to say?—she walked out of his room and, he worried, maybe out of his life for good. He barely remembered trailing her as she left his house, but what he did recall was the sight of her turning back to look at him one last time before she walked across their lawn without him.
As Dash sat across from his mom at a booth in the Polo Lounge at the Beverly Hills Hotel, he was distracted, not by the green-and-white-striped ceiling overhead, or the table of influencers creating a photo shoot with their caviar and oysters, but by his phone. More specifically, by the lack of any texts from Sophie on the screen.
“I didn’t know you could write.”
Dash looked up at his mom’s voice.
Kitty took off her reading glasses and leaned across the table. “You wrote this?”
Yes, he was going to tell his mom he wrote the speech, because if she knew that he had hired an outsider and told them private details about his dad, then she might actually have him killed. Or inundated with parking tickets, or whatever a powerhouse Hollywood agent was capable of. And he knew the speech might be the distraction he needed to keep her from asking questions about the reporter at Reece’s premiere.
“I did,” he said.
“This is good. I got a little emotional just reading it.” She wiped something away from the corners of her eyes, though there were no actual tears there. “Since you don’t want to be in front of the camera anymore, have you considered being behind it? Your brother is making his directorial debut. You could pivot to screenplays.”