Page 72 of Two Guys, a Girl, and a Tripod

“Fine.” She rolls her eyes. “Second date, confirmed.”

“Fantastic. I’ll take you home now.”

I park on the street near her place so I can walk her to her front door. When we reach the door, I pull her to my chest, out of view of her doorbell camera, which has a blue ring around it, indicating it’s on. I’ve been planning this move from the moment she said yes to going out with me.

There’s a hint of pink creeping into her cheeks, spreading down to her chest. It’s adorable. I bend to kiss her lips but pause. Hiding a smirk, I gently kiss her forehead and when I pull back, Sophie’s eyes are closed. Her head follows my lips for half a second before she stops. Her eyes snap open.

“That was sneaky.” She scolds with a grin.

“I know.”

17

Brody

“Just do me a favor.”

I don’t meet Miles’ eyes while I focus on the task he gave me. I hate dicing onions and he knows it. My eyes are already watering and I’ve only just begun, but I have to follow through. He said he would help me prepare dinner, so he’s been instructing me for the last twenty minutes.

“Remind you to use frozen in the future?” Miles asks. I glare at him before returning to the cutting board in front of me.

“I’m not ready to, er, share her,” I say slowly. Well, that sounded wrong. “I mean introduce you two. It feels too soon.”

“I’ll head out for the evening. Maybe see a movie. You need to dice that a little finer.” Miles grins like the smug asshole he is while he directs me around the kitchen.

Half an hour later, he’s gone and I’m standing in the kitchen, wondering if we turned off the AC for some ungodly reason. Sophie will be here in a few minutes. Miles texted me after he left to say he'll be out of the house until around midnight. Dinner is ready, but I’m not sure I can say the same for me.

I pace back and forth in front of the stove. The contents of the frying pan and the sauce pot are covered and Miles told me they will keep for a while, in case she’s late. I want to be ready and focused solely on Sophie when she arrives.

The doorbell chime grates on my nerves. Any other time, it’s a mildly annoying sound, but that’s probably because I hate answering the door. Tonight it reminds me I’m about to admit something I’ve only ever discussed with Miles and not at length. He’s tried to offer advice, even tips for a time when I might find myself naked in bed with a woman. I’ve shut him down almost every time.

Opening the door causes the dry heat of another LA August evening to hit me in a wave, but I barely feel it. Sophie is standing there, beautiful as ever in the warm glow of the sky just before sunset. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she’s dressed to make sure I know what I’m missing if I fuck this up. I know full well, but it doesn’t stop me from taking a quick look at those cut-off shorts that are just a tiny bit too short. Or at the neckline of her crop top, the scoop dropping far lower than necessary. Her hair is swept back with just a few curly tendrils framing her face. The final nail in the coffin is the dark red lipstick, standing out from her dusky complexion.

“You came.” I don’t bother to hide the relief in my voice or on my face. She has to know I had my doubts.

“I want that painting.” She flashes a smile and I’ll be damned if my heart doesn’t skip a beat or five.

I have to clear my throat before speaking again.

“Come on in.”

Sophie hesitates before stepping inside, allowing me to close the door behind her.

“Thought you’d never ask.”

When I turn, she’s eyeing the two paintings near the door.

“My roommate and I did those a few years ago,” I explain casually. I allow my eyes to roam down her back while she responds.

“Well, if that’s not an excuse to display a couple of mediocre art pieces, I don’t know what is.” She turns to face me and my gaze snaps back to hers, but she grins. She noticed.

“Mediocre?” I gasp. “How dare you? Those are our best works.”

“Please tell me they’re your only works.” Her musical laughter lightens the mood a little.

“Oh, no, my mom has the really good stuff. First grade is where I peaked.”

“Is this where you got the idea for last week?”

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