Plot Twist

  As she bent down to leave the bagels on his welcome mat, she heard the unmistakable sound of his front door creaking open.

She looked up, and Dash stood there in nothing but boxers, rubbing at an eye with the palm of his hand. He ran fingers through his thick dirty-blond hair, and a strand fell across his forehead as he took her in. His hands landed on his hips, drawing her attention to the thick black outlines of a tattoo that traveled down and into his boxers.

“Shit,” she muttered. But what she meant was I cannot think about Poppy’s brother’s dick. Sophie was doing everything she could not to stare at his junk, but honestly, it was just there, filling out those boxers and practically winking at her.

“Are you telling me that’s what’s in the bag that you just left on my doorstep?” An amused look crossed his face, and his muscled thighs flexed as he shifted from one foot to the next.

“Uh, no.” She stood and brought the bag up with her. She held it out directly in front of Dash’s boxers so she’d have something physically blocking her view of the...elephant in the doorway. “This is not a bag of shit.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Good to hear.”

“I hope I didn’t wake you?” She waited for him to respond, but all he did was cross his arms over his chest so, yes, she’d guessed she had. She internally cringed for ruining not one but two mornings in a row for him. So much for making things right between them. “I don’t know if I’m Sorry Bagels are actually a thing, but I am sorry about yesterday. I still owe you, but food tends to make everything better, in my experience.”

Dash cautiously took the bag from Sophie and opened the top. He grunted back—a sound so low and deep it made the hair on her arms stand up.

“Poppy said you like cinnamon-sugar bagels?” Sophie really, really hoped he did, because if he didn’t, then she was officially the worst tenant ever.

“I don’t like them,” he said.

Her breath caught at the realization that she’d made a huge miscalculation.

“I’m obsessed with them.” He rubbed a hand across his chin as he eyed her. He had just the shadow of a beard. “Consider us even, Soph.”

She’d never heard him shorten her name to Soph before. She couldn’t help the small smile that crossed her lips. He held her gaze; she’d forgotten how deeply blue and piercing his eyes were.

She almost leaned toward him, but the sound of Dash’s phone pinging startled her. Dash flipped the phone over and read the screen. His expression went dark.

“Gah,” he muttered to himself.

But Sophie had always been a bit nosy. “What is it?”

He looked up and glared back at her, like he’d forgotten she was there. “You don’t want to know.”

4

DASH

FROM: [email protected]

CC: [email protected]

TO: [email protected]

SUBJECT: URGENT/TIMELY REQUEST/RESPOND

IMMEDIATELY

Dash, Kitty has requested to see a copy of the speech for William within the next few weeks. Please respond immediately with your thoughts.

Something about the email from his mom—well, his mom’s assistant—and the reminder of his mom’s expectations had his heart thudding harder than he liked. The same way it always did whenever he was dragged back into the family business.

Sophie’s earnest voice came through, though. “Maybe I can help?”

“It’s nothing.” He cracked his neck and intended to end the conversation and head back inside to deal with the email. He shouldn’t have even opened the door, but something had propelled him out of bed. And when he’d seen Sophie standing there, he couldn’t help but feel relief. He’d spent half the night wondering whether or not she was okay, but now he knew she was. He should’ve gone back into the house, but to his surprise, he continued, “I just got this email from my mom that kind of stressed me out. My dad is getting a star on the Walk of Fame, and she wants me to present it to him.”

“Wow, that sounds...” If he had to guess from the excited expression on her face, Sophie was probably about to finish her sentence with amazing! or fun! but then seemed to assess his demeanor and thought better of it. “But you don’t want to?”

“It’s complicated. I’d have to write a speech for him, but I don’t even know how to start something like that. I’ve never been great with words.” Dash fussed with his hair briefly. What he wouldn’t give for a long and intense workout to burn off some of the anxiety that filled him.

“Not to brag, but when I was in the fourth grade I won my class speech contest. So speeches are kind of my thing.” Sophie waggled her fingers in a razzle-dazzle gesture that made him chuckle, to his chagrin. “I could help write yours if you want. I do owe you.”

He was admittedly more than a little amused by the notion of her elementary-school speech qualifying her for this. “What did you write about?”

“Tractors. I made the argument that everyone should drive one.” Sophie absent-mindedly pushed a cuticle on her thumb back. “What? We grew up around a lot of farms, and they are honestly very cool.”

He tried his best to hold back a laugh, but a little one tumbled out as he said, “So just to be clear, you think writing about tractors would be the same as writing for the Hollywood elite?”

“That’s correct.” She cracked her knuckles in an intentional I-mean-business kind of way. “Did I mention they gave me a gift certificate to In-N-Out as a prize? Let’s just say I’m a big deal.”

He bit his lower lip. He didn’t want Sophie to feel like she owed him anything—she didn’t. So he’d change the subject, which was something he was quite good at. “Speaking of big deals, I saw your latest TikTok video. Are you going to document each meetup you have with your exes?”

“Do you think I should?” Her mouth stayed open just enough that her canine tooth poked out of the side. He hesitated, momentarily distracted.

“It would be pretty interesting. Ya know, you could kind of do an intro for each ex you’re about to see, then do an update after the meeting. You’d get a lot of video content and be able to create a narrative.”

She tapped an index finger against her downturned lower lip, which drew his attention to her mouth. He didn’t want to stare, so he asked a question. “Do you think it will help with your writing?”

She stopped the tapping and shrugged. The upward slope of her nose seemed like it would be an interesting shape to mimic for one of his craft projects. “It can’t hurt, since nothing else has worked and I’m kind of scrambling at this point. Did you like the video?”

“It was a solid response.” He leaned against the door frame and crossed his arms. “And TikTok loves authenticity,” Dash said. “That’s why your first video went viral. If you want to grow an audience, just be yourself. That’s what I do.”

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