Page 112 of Trying Sophie

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Declan

After that night, our conversations became more intimate and we shared things I was sure no one else knew. I felt closer to Sophie than anyone in my life, and that included my teammates or my family. I knew I was heading for a wreck of epic proportions but I didn’t see an alternative. I couldn’t force myself off this runaway train.

“What’s your worst memory?” she asked, her question picking up on the conversation from a few nights ago.

“Hmm,” I stalled for time.

There was one night in particular that stood out but I didn’t think I should share it with her. As close as we’d become, there were some things the woman in your life didn’t want to know. And yet, she’d told me about that fuck face Stephen and what he’d done to her. Maybe I owed it to her to fill her in on what had happened with Natasha?

“There was this woman,” I started.

“There always is,” she murmured with a chuckle.

“Yeah, there is,” I agreed because it was true. Every time one of my friends got all messed up, there was a woman to blame.

“But Natasha did a number on me.”

“Natasha?” she asked, and I worried about what I heard in her voice. Not jealousy or envy but something else. Something … uncertain and insecure.

Wanting to set her mind as ease, I said, “It wasn’t like that. I was only with her one time.”

Fuck. I hated detailing my sexual history like this. Sophie knew I’d been no saint before she came along, but it still felt sordid to talk about my past.

She exhaled in a long, drawn-out gust. “Okay, go on.”

I debated backing out, saying “never mind,” but now that I’d started down this path I didn’t think she’d let it go, especially now that she knew Natasha’s name.

I took a breath of my own and forged ahead. “At first she seemed like an answer to my prayers, but things got all twisted up and that night fucked me up good.”

“What happened?”

“The first time we met was at a special event for Irish athletes. I don’t know what she was doing there because she wasn’t one, but she stood out that night. She was understated, elegant. Something different from what I was used to.”

An image of Natasha the night we met flashed through my head and I pushed it aside. If only I’d been more observant, I might not have gone home with her.

“I flirted with her, and she flirted back. At one point, she dropped her underwear in my lap when she walked past my table.” I shook my head and shrugged apologetically. “What can I say? Her boldness turned me on.”

“I can imagine. You seem to have a thing for brazen women,” she chuckled and it felt forced, but I appreciated her effort.

“Before the night was over she sat next to me, whispering all the things she wanted me to do to her. Before she finished, she cupped my dick under the table where no one could see.”

Sophie sucked in a quick breath. Fuck, I should stop. This wasn’t fair to her.

“Never mind,” I hurried. “It’s nothing. Remind me again, what’s your favorite movie?”

“I’m a big girl, I can take it,” she answered.

“But you shouldn’t have to.”

“I asked you what your worst memory was and I want to know because I want to know you. If this woman is a part of that, then I want to hear it. You don’t have to tell me, but I’d appreciate it if you would.”

I’d never told anyone about Natasha but suddenly I wanted to unburden myself of those memories. And even if I was conflicted about sharing them with Sophie, I knew no one else would listen to me the way she did. No one else would care why it had been so bad but Sophie would. She’d care because she cared about me.

“Are you sure you want to hear this?” I asked, giving her one more chance to back out. “Because it’s not pretty.”

“Life isn’t always pretty Declan.”

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