Page 44 of So Not My Type

“Well, I’ve certainly heard about you.” Heels and all, Ella’s mom trampled through the grass to shake Sophie’s hand. “I’m Claire.”

Sophie shook her hand with a firm pump. “Nice to meet you.” Her voice displayed a nonexistent confidence. She’d never been comfortable around wealthy people, especially ones like Claire who looked like they stepped out of a high-end yacht magazine perched on the end of a Whole Foods aisle, with her blond bob coiffed to perfection, and her simple strand of pearls not actually that simple.

“Well, are you girls almost done? Want to come in for some food?” Claire asked. “Lydia is prepping some fresh fruit and snacks.” She made no movement to leave.

Claire might look bougie, but she had a kindness to her voice and worried eye crinkles.

Ella tossed a look at Sophie. “Yep. We were just about to get out.”

Why did those words hit like that, like lemon seeped into a paper cut? Obviously, the moment between them had shattered. But Sophie nearly flinched as Ella lifted herself from the tub,wrapped her towel, and gathered her items without another word.

The drive back to her apartment was the first reprieve Sophie had from the most quiet, awkward hour of her life. Ella had hardly spoken since leaving the tub, except to say Sophie could use the shower to wash off the chlorine, and to remind her to grab her charger still plugged into the wall. After getting dressed and gathering all her work items, Sophie wanted to bolt. She thanked Claire for the hospitality and Ella summoned Thomas to take her home.

Ella did not offer to come with.

When Thomas dropped her off, she dragged herself up the three flights to her room. After kicking shoes to the side, she dropped her bag near the door, and flopped onto the couch.

“What in the hell?” she said to her fake ficus tree. A lifetime had passed since the accident in the office this morning. How could everything have changed so quickly, so intensely? She glided a fingertip across her lip, savoring the leftover tingles from Ella’s mouth. The kiss had been more than any kiss she’d had before. Purposeful and full, soft but intense, passionate and sweet, filled with trembles and promises.

Her body squirmed, replaying every moment. She lowered her hands, resting them on top of her belly, picturing Ella’s neck, her arms that glistened with water, feeling her body on top of her. Ella was fearless, much more than Sophie thought.

Sophie sprung from the couch. She shoved boots into a closet, tugged off sweatshirts hanging on the chair, and put away dishes. Was Ella okay? She had definitely been the instigator, right? Okay, it was a mutual instigation, but maybe Ella just wanted to scratch an itch. Get one night in, quench the thirst, and move on. And here Sophie was entertaining visions of datenights, their times in the cafeteria, and how Ella’s tortoiseshell glasses highlighted the amber in her eyes.

Ella’s reaction after their kiss was… unexpected. Sophie couldn’t stop thinking about the way Ella’s body felt pressed against hers, the taste of her lips. But Ella was so dismissive, so casual, so utterly nonchalant.

Putting away dishes, scrubbing the countertop until her forearms ached, and asking Alexa to blare Amy Winehouse did nothing to dull the internal monologue. What if Ella was how she portrayed herself in the ad? Maybe she really did just want a hookup and Sophie was convenient.

Sophie needed more than convenience.

So now what? Go to work tomorrow and pretend it didn’t happen? The thought made her heart squeeze. After scraping off all her nail polish, folding laundry, and getting ready for bed, she blinked at the ceiling, willing it to provide her with clarification.

Fuck it.

She grabbed her phone and searched her contacts. She and Ella had exchanged numbers weeks ago for work-related purposes, and this was definitely not work related. But it would most likely not violate any HR rules. Technically speaking, she wasn’t Ella’s manager. She had seniority, sure, but Ella’s dad was the boss. This might be considered a bigger infraction for Ella than Sophie.

Now she was overthinking as her thumbs shook over the hovered screen. She should just not do anything, let it go, and chalk it up to an emotional day.

Perfect—decision made.

In a stunning betrayal of the mind/body connection, Sophie’s thumbs flew off a message before she could stop.

Sophie:

For the record, I REALLY didn’t want you to stop.

SIXTEEN

ELLA

So that happened.

Ella stared at her phone, willing another message to appear. When Sophie had texted her a few hours ago, a thrill shot through her chest. She responded immediately with a blushing emoji and a follow-up:

Ella:

I didn’t want to stop, either.

And then… nothing. Just nothing. Not that she expected a ton more, but she hoped this would kick off some sort of banter. Maybe flirty messages, maybe some sexting. Who knew? Being in her luxury prison, she was a master at curating sexy messages.

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