She bit her lip as she inspected the sweet drawing. “Oh, Dash, I want to laugh so much, but I honestly think the winking eye makes it very endearing.”
“I don’t really remember getting that one. All I know is I woke up the next morning with saran wrap on my foot and couldn’t put any pressure on it for a good twenty-four hours. Which the director of the movie I was working on loved, obviously.” He looked down at the bedspread, maybe embarrassed by the memory. “But at least I didn’t get it on my ass?”
“That’s the spirit.” She rubbed his back, which was still damp with sweat.
“What about this?” The tip of his finger ran across the scar on her chest. “What’s the story there?”
She ran her own finger across the faded pink scar. “I was born with a congenital heart defect. This thing called aortic stenosis, which basically means I had a valve that was too small.”
“The valve couldn’t handle your big heart,” he said jokingly.
She rolled her eyes but also appreciated that he wasn’t scared by her condition. “They did a surgery to try to replace it when I was a kid, but the valve wasn’t growing the way it needed to. We decided the pacemaker would be the best option after I passed out when I was driving one time. That’s why I still don’t drive, actually.”
He brushed hair behind her ear and placed a soft kiss on her cheek. “You’re one tough lady, Soph.”
“That’s what makes me part robot, as Nina likes to say.” Sophie shrugged because she barely noticed the pacemaker anymore.
“If you’re telling me I just slept with an AI, then that makes me weirdly more excited.”
She giggled because anything that made him happy made her happy, too. “You have a scar, too, you know.” She ran her thumb across the little line in his eyebrow.
“Mine doesn’t come with technology that makes me superhuman, though.” He purposefully raised his brow. “I was five, and Poppy was chasing me through the house. I tripped on the marble stairs, and my face landed at the edge. Apparently I almost ruined my mom’s antique Persian rug with all the blood.”
Sophie imagined his mom emphasized that point when she retold the story. “Kitty always knows what’s important in life.”
“Always.” His jaw tightened slightly. But then Dash’s doorbell rang, and they both turned. “It’s probably a delivery.”
But then it rang again.
They eyed each other. “Maybe it’s your friend Chris?” Sophie wanted to at least be wearing a bra if it was someone who wasn’t a delivery. She stood, found her bra, and quickly put it on.
“Chris knows I hate surprises.” Dash stood and slipped into his boxers. His phone on the bedside table vibrated, and he frowned as he picked it up. “It’s Poppy.”
Sophie checked her phone, but there was nothing from her.
“Poopy Pants?” Dash answered. His tone changed to something more akin to panic. “You’re here?” He moved to his bedroom window to glance out, but as he did, Poppy’s face appeared.
Sophie dropped down to the ground and hid herself behind the bed. Poppy was there, at Dash’s place, and Sophie was inside, and they’d just...
“Shit,” she muttered to herself. Had Poppy just seen Sophie in her brother’s room in nothing but a bra?
28
DASH
When Dash opened the door and saw Poppy holding a Tupperware container, he felt a few things. First, annoyance that she’d shown up at the absolute worst possible time, and then an overwhelming sense of guilt. Because Sophie was Poppy’s best friend, and he’d wedged himself between them.
“Bone broth!” She smiled brightly as she held up the container. “I had extra in my fridge and just figured that since we’re doing the random stopovers I would bring you some. It does wonders for the digestive system.”
Poppy breezed past him in oversize jeans and a plain white T-shirt, her long blond hair swishing as she walked. She’d been thinking of him, and he hadn’t so much as considered how his actions were about to change her life.
She went into the kitchen and put the broth on the countertop, then she opened his cabinets until she found a mug. “Oh, this is so cute. Who knew you had taste?” She rotated the mug—his design—and appraised it with an appreciative look. It would be the perfect time to tell her he’d made it, if he didn’t need her to leave. “The broth makes an excellent snack. I’ll heat some for you. There should be enough here to last the next two days.”
He could not think of anything less appealing than a cup of hot bone broth as a snack, but he would keep those thoughts to himself. Especially because he wanted to get her out of his house before she realized Sophie was there.
“I can heat that up.” He quickly moved to take the mug from her, and she let him. Maybe if he just drank the damn thing she’d leave.
“Ew, Dash, what’s that on your hands?” She eyed the clay still dotting his hands. “Were you gardening?”
“Uh, yeah,” he lied, the same way he always did whenever his family got close to learning something real about him.
“Well, wash them before you get your sod, or whatever, all over the place.” She took the mug back from him.
He was about to make an excuse for why she had to leave, but then there was a crash from his bedroom. He winced, and Poppy turned toward the noise.
“Oh, no, don’t tell me you have someone here? Gross.” Poppy’s nose wrinkled, but she walked toward his bedroom because she couldn’t help but be her nosy self.
“It’s probably just the wind.”
“It’s as hot as a sauna outside. There’s no wind...” Poppy trailed off as her eyes caught on something. He followed her line of sight as she bent down and picked up one of Sophie’s sandals, then her dress. She held them at eye level and her face shifted from curious to confused. “Aren’t these Sophie’s?”
He didn’t answer. He couldn’t. He was frozen in place from fear that he’d just completely destroyed his sister’s trust, and he had no words that would make the situation okay. In his silence, though, Poppy advanced toward his bedroom.
He took a step to try to stop her, but then his door creaked open. Sophie held on to the frame and looked over at Poppy. She wore a long T-shirt of his that just skimmed above her knee, and he wasn’t quite sure, but he thought he saw a tremble in Sophie’s hands.
“Sophie?” Poppy’s voice went up in surprise, and then she turned to Dash. Her expression went from dazed to hurt as she began to understand exactly what was going on.
“Hey.” Sophie cleared her throat, then tried again. “Hi there.”
Poppy’s shoulders shrunk in on themselves. “Sophie, please, please, please tell me I’m jumping to conclusions about seeing you in my brother’s clothes and walking out of his bedroom.”
Sophie shot Dash a look, but her expression was unreadable, which made Poppy glance over, too. He knew he should say something to smooth the situation, but all he could come up with was “You should’ve texted before coming.”