Page 9 of Saving Sophia

“Does that help?” he asked, a tease of a smile playing at the corner of his lips.

“Oh … no … an accident …” I let out an embarrassed laugh. His hair was just the right amount of tousled on top, the color like wet sand with a precise side part leading to a smooth fade, and the goatee framed his tilted rockstar smile perfectly.

“Is that why you’re here? An accident?” His eyes narrowed slightly from curiosity to concern.

“No, I … nothing like that,” I said, finally getting my buckles done. I tucked my feet tighter under my chair and tried to find some shred of dignity in my uniform, sitting up as straight as I could and hoping I didn’t reek too badly of Budweiser.

“People rarely find themselves in police stations under happy circumstances,” he offered.

I blew out a sad little puff of air at the accuracy, but before I could say anything, my stomach twisted and let out a long, slow, unrepentant growl.

“Whatever happened, it must not have involved dinner?” he chuckled, a soothing sound that somehow eased my embarrassment.

“No, I guess not.” When had I last eaten? I remembered a PB&J before my shift, but that felt like weeks ago.

“Here, maybe this will help?” He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket, pulled out a bright red object, and held it out to me.

I stared at it for a minute before a burst of laughter escaped me. Apparently, this ultra-attractive and mysterious man traveled with a supply of oversized, cherry red lollipops in his pocket. This day could not get any weirder.

His amused smile turned into a full grin. “It’ll give your tummy something to do till you can get some real food.”

Helpless against his charm, I grinned back. “Don’t they literally warn about taking candy from strangers? It’s like … a standard rule, I think?”

It was his turn to let out a laugh. “True. You should follow those rules.” He put out the hand not holding candy. “I’m Ethan.”

I hesitated a second, then shook it. The warmth of his grasp surprised me. He didn’t hold my hand too long or squeeze too tight. When he released me, I was almost sad to let go.

“Sophia,” I said, following it up with a self-conscious laugh. I dropped my eyes to my lap, unable to keep looking at him. He was so handsome, and I wasn’t exactly great at casual conversations.

“Nice to meet you, Sophia.” On his lips, my name sounded like silk sliding against bare skin, and I shivered, wishing he would say it again.

“You too,” I mumbled. My stomach let out another growl. I clutched it with my hand, trying and failing to silence it.

“And now we aren’t strangers, Sophia.” He tipped the lollipop toward me.

If he kept saying my name like that, I could be persuaded to eat anything.

I took the lollipop, unwrapped it, and popped it into my mouth.

“I would have been more impressed if you had a plate of spaghetti tacos in there,” I blurted out around the lollipop.

Really, Sophia?

Why was my mouth determined to humiliate me?

“Spaghetti tacos? Now that’s something I haven’t heard of before,” he said with another warm chuckle, raising an eyebrow. His brows were thick and expressive, and his eyes were gorgeous, but his laugh was becoming my favorite part about him, that, and the fact he had candy.

I sat quietly for a moment, rolling the lollipop around in my mouth to prevent any more ridiculous comments from popping out. The intense cherry flavor was actually helping my rogue stomach behave.

“So why are you here?” he asked again. “Want to talk about it?”

I sighed as it all came back to me. This stranger might be handsome and distracting, but I would need more than a lollipop to escape my problems. Did I want to talk about it? No. I wanted to talk to him about happy things, like books and puppies and his favorite kind of coffee.

“A big misunderstanding. There was a raid, I guess,” I mumbled around the lollipop. “I ran away before the cops came, but I needed this.” I kicked my bag with my foot. “They grabbed me so I couldn’t warn the other girls.” I heaved a sigh. “They’re after the guy I work for, and I don’t think they believed me when I said I wasn’t doing the illegal stuff.”

I shifted in the chair, suddenly aware of my skimpy uniform combined with my words. What misunderstanding would involve me getting swept up in a raid, dressed like this, with a shady employer? “I’m not a prostitute,” I blurted out, my cheeks burning. “If that’s what you were thinking.”

“No assumptions,” he shook his head and held up his hands in a stopping gesture. His face was kind. No judgment. It was nice.

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