Bad Impressions (Revive Me #1) (13 page)

But I’d wanted to stop her from leaving, no matter what it took. Because, I knew, if she’d walked out that door, she’d have really been walking out of my life. And that was not fucking happening.

“I love you, Soph,” I repeated.

“Why did you lie to me?” Her voice wavered and she sniffled. Was she crying? I wanted to go to her, to comfort her, but I was afraid she’d open the door if I made even the slightest move.

Instead, I answered her question. “I didn’t want you to know about it. I didn’t…I hated the idea of you thinking I was still that guy. I didn’t want you to think I was that guy with
you
. I didn’t want anything to
taint
us, darlin’. So, I stayed away from you until my injuries healed.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“I’m getting that, yeah.”

“I already know about the brunette. The thing with Claire happened months ago. None of it happened while we were dating, so why did you think I’d care?”

“You’re a very jealous person,” I told her, truthfully. “I didn’t want it to come between us.”

She didn’t say anything for several long moments.

And then she suddenly burst out laughing.

She turned around and there were tears in her eyes. She
had
been crying. And now she was laughing hysterically.
Shit.
Was I driving her into some sort of manic episode with all my bullshit?

“I can’t believe you slept with Claire Guildford!” she choked out through her laughs. “How desperate were you?”

That had me bursting out laughing as well.

“You should’ve heard Doris and Gloria talking about it. They love you to bits. They were badmouthing her like crazy. By the end of it, you were the hero of the entire thing.”

“It’s my natural charm,” I said, grinning at her.

She pushed off the door and walked towards me. She stopped laughing, her gaze becoming serious. “We have enough obstacles in our way without throwing them in each other’s way, Brad.”

“I agree.”

“You won’t lie to me again?”

I shook my head. “I swear to you.”

“If you need space, you tell me. Just say the words. Don’t make up some bullshit excuse or pull away from me. I don’t like…uncertainty, okay?”

“All right, Soph.”

She stopped in front of me and laid her hands on my chest. She looked up at me nervously. “Okay, then in the spirit of honesty, I need to tell you something.”

“From the look on your face, I’m thinking we should sit down for this.”

She nodded.

I took her hand and led her into the living room. I didn’t let go of her as we both lowered ourselves onto the couch.

She curled her legs up under herself and turned to face me. “That night I was in the city, I
did
see Jake.”

She stopped to gauge my reaction. I had to grind my teeth to stop myself from showing much of one. Just hearing that asshole’s name made my blood boil. “Okay,” I ground out.

“Tiff would only go to a place she already knew, so we went to a club I knew from my time at college. It was right around the corner from where he and I used to…live together. Anyway, I went out for a smoke and…he saw me.”

She squeezed my hand tightly and looked away.

I shifted closer to her and stroked the back of her head, guiding her eyes back to mine. “It’s okay.”

“He was angry. Angry that I’d left and angry when I wouldn’t take him back. I told him we were done the moment he hit me. He wouldn’t accept that and he thought it was about something else.”

“What?”

“You.”

I cocked an eyebrow in surprise. “You told him we slept together?”

“Yeah. I told you; I don’t like secrets,” she snapped, defensively. “Anyway, he tried to hurt me, but a bouncer stopped him. That’s why I came to you and asked you to teach me how to fight. I felt so….”

“Helpless?”

“Yeah.”

I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her close. “Thank you for telling me, Soph.”

She pulled away. “There’s one more thing.”

I tensed immediately. “Christ, what is it?” I asked, grinning at her. “Do I need to be
lying
down for this?”

Her eyes lit up and she leaned into me and whispered, “I love you, too.”

Chapter 19

~Brad~

As I approached our secret hidden location in the park, I caught sight of Soph sitting against the trunk of an old oak tree. Her knees were drawn up to her chest and a notebook rested upon them. She clutched a pen in her gloved right hand and it moved across the pages at a furious pace.

“Hey,” I greeted her as I sat down beside her.

She jumped, almost dropping her pen in the process and cocked her head towards me. “Shit, you scared me. I didn’t hear you approach,” she said, slapping her hand over her heart.

I laughed and then I looked her over. She was bundled up in a blue wool coat. A pale gray scarf encircled her neck, matching her pants. Her cheeks were flushed from the cold. With every day that passed, it was getting closer to winter and a hell of a lot colder outside. Too cold to keep meeting outside for our secret lunch rendezvous.

“You were writing?” I asked. “I haven’t seen you do that since you came back here.”

She smiled elatedly. “Yeah, I was. It’s been a long time.”

“How long?”

She broke eye contact with me and shrugged. And then she answered in a small voice, “A little over a year.”

“What?”

“I…uh…I hadn’t been feeling it.”

“
Hadn’t been feeling it
? It’s who you are. It’s who you’ve always been. Sophie, the writer.”

She struggled to meet my gaze and when she did, I didn’t like what I saw there. Embarrassment, shame and guilt. I knew her too fucking well. “Because of
him
? You stopped writing because of him?” It came out a little more abrasive and accusatory than I’d intended it to and her eyes narrowed, her body tensing, readying for a fight.

“It’s complicated,” she snapped, closing her notebook and shoving it into her bag along with her pen.

“It’s
not
.”

“Brad, don’t start this. Please.”

“I’m just trying to understand.”

She blew out a breath. “Jake is a practical guy. And I’m a dreamer.”

“And?”

“
And
life isn’t built for dreamers. He just pointed that out to me. Writing wasn’t going to get me anywhere. That’s why I stopped.”

“It’s a big part of who you are.”

“I know. Coming back here made me realize that. Hence, you seeing me writing just now. So, it’s all good now, isn’t it? You can relax.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being a dreamer, Soph.”

She scoffed. “Dreaming is for people who never figured out how to grow up. It’s for people who don’t know how to live in the real world instead of in a fantasy.”

I shook my head vehemently. “No. Creative types dream. They’re the people who shape the world. People like
him
just fall in line and can’t see past their own 9-5 monotony. The girl I know would never stand for that bullshit.”

She turned away and moved to get up, but I gripped her arm, stopping her. “Brad—” she started to protest.

But I cut her off, “That’s why you came back here, wasn’t it? You lost yourself. You let some prick indoctrinate you.”

“How weak do you think I am? He just pointed out what I’d already started to realize.”

“It wasn’t a realization. It was just a crisis of faith, Soph.”

“Maybe,” she murmured.

“The dreamer in you is what’s special about you. Losing that or denying that means you’re not
you
.”

“I guess,” she said, hesitantly, clearly still unsure.

“You know I’m right. I know you better than anyone. Better than Tiff
and
Ollie.”

She smiled. “You’re the only one who’s read any of my stuff.”

That was news to me. “Really?”

“Yep.”

“How come?”

She shrugged. “I dunno. I guess…I trusted you. And….”

“And what?” I pressed, intrigued.

“I’m not sure I should say. Your ego is already inflated enough as it is.”

“Is that right?”

“Yep,” she said, grinning widely.

“Just tell me, woman.”

“You’re the smartest person I know. You always were. And you…we…get each other.”

“And that makes me a good candidate?”

“The perfect candidate.”

“Then you’d better keep writing. I want to read something soon, okay?”

“I promise.”

“Good,” I said, releasing her and getting to my feet. I held out my hand to her, “Come on.”

Her brow furrowed, but she took my hand anyway and I pulled her to her feet. “Where are we going?”

“It’s too cold to eat out here now. We’re going somewhere warmer.”

“Where?”

“The bar. No one will be there. It doesn’t open until late afternoon today.”

“But people can see in through those huge windows.”

“We’ll eat in the back room.”

“Okay,” she said, nodding in agreement.

I wrapped my arm around her, but she pulled away hastily. “What’s wrong?”

She glanced around erratically. “Secrecy, remember?”

Oh right. Shit.
I sighed with agitation. “I’m tired of sneaking around.”

“What are you saying?” she asked, worriedly.

“I should tell Ollie about us.”

“What? No! You can’t!”

“It won’t be as bad as you think. We’re not just fucking about. We’re dating, Soph.”

She shook her head.

I could tell immediately from the look in her eyes that she was hiding something from me. What the hell was it? “What, Soph?”

“He…he’s
really
against us hooking up.”

“What?”

“A few weeks back, we stumbled upon the subject of you—well
he
did. And, trust me, he’s against it. He even warned me off you, saying you were just a player and would never settle down.”

I felt my blood boil at her words. Ollie was going around spouting that shit about me? Why was I so fucking surprised? He’d always thought he was the better man. I was the reckless womanizer and he was the responsible relationship guy in his eyes. I wasn’t a fool. I’d noticed his digs plenty of times and the condescending way in which he looked down on me. I’d always risen above it, or just straight-up ignored it. But now it really fucking bothered me. Because of Soph—because of
me
and Soph.

“I don’t give a fuck what he thinks, Soph. Do you?”

“He’s my brother, Brad.”

Her words sparked a warning in my brain.

It was clear she wasn’t ready for Ollie to know.

As much as it bothered me that she was so hung up on his approval, despite the very clear way that we felt about one another, I knew I had to back off immediately.

We were fast approaching dangerous territory. If I pushed it further, I’d basically be asking her to choose between her brother and me. And I sure as hell wasn’t gonna make her do that. I wasn’t a fucking prick. Besides, I knew what Ollie meant to her. He was her only remaining family.

No, I’d just have to wait for her to come around on her own without my influence.

“All right,” I forced myself to agree, backing down. “Subject dropped.”

There was an awkward long pause between us. And then she finally said, “I’ll go first and meet you at the back door to the bar. You go in through the front and let me in.”

“Sounds good, darlin’.”

I watched her hurry off. There was a noticeable spring in her step. Knowing I was the one who’d put it there sent a warmth through me that I was determined never to fucking lose. Ever. That girl was my everything. And I wasn’t gonna let anything or anyone fuck with that, least of all Ollie and his poisonous comments. No one was gonna take her from me.

Sophie Clinton was mine.

***

I frantically worked to undo the buttons of her wool coat. Too many damned buttons.
Argh!

I had her pushed up against the shelves in the back room of the bar. She was rolling her hips and teasing my already painfully hard cock to the point of insanity—my insanity.

It’d been too long since I’d had her, thanks to my stubborn idea of holding off on sex with her for a while.

But, as she’d managed to convince me just moments earlier, we were past that. Ever since we’d exchanged the
I-love-yous
a few weeks ago, things had changed and we were way beyond lust and just screwing around.