Page 41 of Trying Sophie

Chapter Fourteen

Sophie

I glancedat the list in my hand, one item jumping out at me like a neon flashing sign: coffee. I really wasn’t comfortable driving on the other side of the road on a totally different side of the car, but I couldn’t drink one more cup of those crappy instant granules my grandparents called coffee. When I’d asked my grandma to pick up something fancier she had: pricier instant granules.

Shoving the list in my pocket, I crossed the empty street and heard my name being called from down the road. Stepping over a puddle to land on the sidewalk, I hitched my purse on my shoulder and scanned the area to find Declan hurrying toward me.

“Wait up!” he called, picking up his pace.

“Hey,” he said, coming to a stop next to me and shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

Jeans, I wasn’t ashamed to notice, that clung deliciously tight to his rock hard thighs.

Yeah, I thought as my eyes roved appreciatively over him, Declan O’Shaughnessy is my personal catnip.

And like a frisky feline, I wanted to rub myself up against him, feel his hands pet me all over. Shaking my head, I blinked a few times and smiled back in greeting.

“Something wrong?” he asked, pointing in the direction of my eyes.

Thankful he’d misinterpreted my reaction, I rubbed my knuckles over them. “Yeah, this wind,” I answered. “I think I got a leaf particle or something in there.”

Thankfully it was windy, but since I wasn’t a great actress the chance of him buying the fib were slim to none. Thankfully, I’d distracted him in other ways.

When I pulled my hands from my face, Declan eyed me curiously then coughed and tentatively raised his hand toward my face. “You’ve got a little …”

Reflexively, I wiped where his fingers hovered, scant inches over my skin. “Did I get it?”

“Um.” He stifled a laugh. “Not really.” He pointed to the area near his cheek. “It kind of spread.”

“What is it?”

“I’m not sure.” He leaned in close to examine me. “It’s sort of creamy and hot pink.”

Oh shit.

I looked down at my right hand and the lipstick samples I’d swiped across it at the drug store fifteen minutes prior. They’d blended into one giant blob that looked suspicious like something found at the Museum of Modern Art.

I let out an exasperated sigh. Of course I looked like a raving lunatic in front of the guy I had the hots for.

“Yeah, that’d be lipstick.”

At least since my cheeks were already fuchsia, he wouldn’t notice my blush.

When I’d gone in to Boots to pick up my grandpa’s medication, I’d no intention of buying anything for myself, but I was obsessed with drug store makeup and being in a new country presented a whole new, wonderful world of products to try. Boots was a makeup fiend’s mecca.

The funny thing was, I didn’t actually wear a ton of the stuff, but in my teens I’d developed an overwhelming fondness for the possibilities it presented. For a while I’d even thought about going to school so I could become a Hollywood makeup artist but the sad reality was I was shit at applying anything more than the basics.

“Normally I’d say it’s a good color on you, but maybe keep it to your lips, yeah?”

While it was embarrassing to be caught with lipstick smeared all over my face, if it had happened to my best friend Katie I’d probably pee my pants laughing. Alas, it wasn’t Katie standing here looking like a little girl who’d gotten into her mother’s makeup case; it was me, and I was standing in front of my crush looking like an idiot. So yeah, way less comical.

“Ha ha, very funny,” I remarked, pulling out a hands-wipe from my purse and cleaning my face.

Opening the car door, realizing too late I’d gone to the wrong side. Again. I dropped my purse and the bag containing my grandpa’s medication and my new makeup on the seat, hoping he’d assume that’d been my intention the whole time.

“Wrong side again?” he asked, his lips hitching up in a grin.

I groaned. “Yes.”

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