Page 74 of Daring You

“Come on in,” I say, and back away from the door with reluctance and shame. Carter was willing to wait for me around my office for a few hours today. The least I can do is let her in for a while.

“Pretty sure your brother has put a GPS tracker in your phone,” Sophie says as she passes me.

I raise my eyes to the ceiling and follow behind them after shutting the door.

Sophie thunks her boots near my hallway closet, but quickly becomes distracted. “Oh! Wine! My kind of girl. Can I pour us some glasses?”

“Sure,” I say. “Doesn’t look like I’m getting rid of you any time soon.”

“Not if I like you.” Sophie grins, then makes herself at home in my kitchen.

Carter sits on my wide gray-suede couch, and pats the seat next to her. “Come take a load off.”

I can spot a trap when I see one, but I’m too tired to put up a fight. Plus, Mike and I bought top-of-the-line furniture. That couch is really comfy and my feet are aching to be raised.

Sophie clatters around my cupboards, and I swipe my wine glass on the way and sit next to Carter.

She smiles, rests her arm on the back of the couch, and curls up her legs to face me, her body language practically screaming, LET ME BE YOUR THERAPIST.

I take a long, quenching, sip of wine.

“Seriously, how did you know I was here?” I ask her.

“Ben texted Locke. Locke texted me.”

I pretend not to feel hurt over the idea that Ben summoned his best friend and my brother to do any emotional clean-up I may require. “What the hell do they want? Did Locke think sending a female in his place would somehow get me to regurgitate my feelings?”

“No, it’s because I’m the least annoying of the three,” Carter says. “And we’re all worried about you.”

“The case is almost over,” I say on a sigh. “By the time trial starts, if there is a trial—”

“That’s not what I’m talking about.”

I delay any response by taking another sip.

“Something else is going on with you, Astor. Something personal. And I want you to know—”

“Mike and I broke up.”

Carter sits ramrod straight. “What?”

I stare at my glass of wine, now one-third full, blaming it for the sudden confession.

Yet…it feels rather freeing, blurting it out like that, no longer containing it in the cold, steel vault within my heart. Not to mention, it’s a hell of a lot better than saying, Ben’s in the witness protection program and I might’ve screwed it all up for him.

Sophie swoops in at that moment, laying down three very full glasses of wine on my marble coffee table. She gently pries my mostly-empty one from my hand. “You need a refill, new friend.”

“What happened?” Carter asks, scooting closer.

“He cheated.”

Another, wondrous thrill courses through me, almost like exorcising a demon.

“That rat bastard,” Carter mutters. “I fucking knew it.”

After she refills it, Sophie cups the bottom of my glass and tips it to my mouth. “There, there.”

“Multiple times,” I say after a gulp of wine.

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