Page 37 of Trying Sophie

“Holy fuck.”

“Yeah,” I answered solemnly. “I know.”

“But dude, she hates you.”

She might have, years ago … but she didn’t any more.

“Nah, she really doesn’t.”

He tried to interrupt, likely to tell me I was fooling myself but I knew what I knew and that was some time in the last couple of weeks, Sophie’s feelings for me had shifted. I couldn’t pinpoint when it had happened, exactly, but there were two things in this world I knew completely: rugby and women. And I knew Sophie wanted me. Even if she hadn’t admitted it yet to herself.

“Ah fuck man, you’re not exactly trustworthy where women are concerned. You’re only going to hurt her all over again.”

“That’s not my plan.”

“What is your plan?”

His scrutiny was unnerving. The way he eyed me now, I wondered if I could trust him. I didn’t think so, not with how he felt about Sophie too.

“Why? So you can sabotage me?”

When the words came out, I wasn’t sure if I meant them as a joke or if I was serious.

Deciding I’d been serious, Cian adjusted his stance, feet spread apart, arms across his chest, and stared down at me in anger. “What the fuck did you just say?”

My body language matched his own. “It’s written all over your face every time you look at her.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he shot back, his eyes jumping everywhere but on me.

It must be killing him to have fallen for someone he couldn’t have. I tried to let that thought guide me when I stepped forward and laid my hand on his shoulder. I hated that he was into my woman, but I also hated that he was hurting because of it.

“Look man, I get it. She’s beautiful and smart. You’d have to be blind not to see that … and I know you’re not blind.”

“Fuck you,” he growled and shrugged my hand from his shoulder.

I shoved my hands into my pockets and rocked back on my heels. “So here’s the thing. I want her. I’ve wanted her since I was eight years old. You know it, I know it. Hell, old Colm knows it too.”

“What?” he croaked. “You talk about her?”

“Yeah, mate. For years.”

“In all these years, you’ve never talked about her to me. And if you’re as into her as you say you are, you would have,” he spat. “You’re no more interested in Sophie than you are any of your fucks.”

The accusation was dead wrong. Not only was I interested in Sophie, I feared I was so far gone on her there was no coming back. She was all I could think about; all I saw when I closed my eyes at night.

“How can I explain it so you understand?”

I stared out over the village, trying to hide my frustration. And yet no matter what I said, I didn’t think Cian wouldn’t believe me. He was too caught up in seeing what he wanted to see because he wanted Sophie for himself.

“You don’t need to explain anything,” he answered, emphasizing the word explain with a sneer. “You’re flirting with her exactly like you do all the others. Let me guess, you were caressing her palm with your thumb, drawing hearts on her skin.”

Shit, that’s exactly what I’d been doing.

With a mocking smile, he said, “That’s what I thought. She’s nothing but a play thing to you, someone you’ll fuck and toss aside when you get bored. The only difference is for once you have to chase her and that excites you.”

He was wrong. That wasn’t what this was about, was it?

No, I’d wanted Sophie even before I understood what those feelings meant. She’d been the girl of my dreams—both figuratively and literally—since I’d known there was such a thing. Cian was just trying to get under my skin.

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