Page 93 of The ABCs of You & Me

Followed by making out for M,I think but don’t dare say.

“Knock off a bunch of letters in one day?”

“Why not? There was no rule that said we had to do them all separately.”

There were no rules at all, from what I recall. Boundaries had been brought up but not set, and so far she hasn’t named a single one. She’s been receptive to every question, every touch.

“No rules,” Sophie says quietly, her gaze dropping briefly.

“I do have one request, though.”

“Shoot.”

“Let me sing one song.”

She immediately sits, crossing her legs and looking at me with anticipation. “Oh, please do.”

I scroll through the songs, passing by all the usual ones until I get to “To Be With You” by Mr. Big. She may read into it, but so what? I’m not planning on singing it to her exactly, so it may be subtle, especially if she doesn’t know the song. It’s not exactly a hit from our generation.

Peeking over, I don’t see the opening bars register. Through the first line, however, I watch her face transform from indifference to something else. With each line the words don’t just pass over her, they begin to register. Her eyes close as her lips begin mouthing the words, a tiny smile appearing there.

Reaching down I take her hand and pull her to her feet, holding the mic between us. I’m almost surprised as she actually starts to sing. And wouldn’t you know it, this stunning woman who is just about perfect in every single way cannot carry a tune to save her life. That doesn’t stop her from getting into it, though. For someone who didn’t actually want to participate, she’s not holding back. It’s like the concert again except I can hear her. And despite her ability to hit every note sharp, I’d pick singing in private with Sophie over listening to one of the best singers in the world, any day of the week.

An hour later, we’ve made a decent dent in the top songs of the nineties, all of which have been about eternal love. She’s breathing heavily as the last chords of Letters to Cleo’s cover of “I Want You to Want Me” fades. Flushed and smiling, her head tips back with a light thud against the flower print wallpaper.

Kissing her throat right now would be intimate. Running my tongue from her collarbone to chin would be sensational. My eyes are still glued to her when her chin drops back down, her eyes wide as she takes in my attention. I should look away, maybe make it less obvious how badly I want to show her a whole other side of intimacy. It takes several blinks and a slight shake of my head to pull my gaze from her.

“Um, so,” I stutter, trying to get my brain restarted. “What should we do next?”

“It’s your letter, rock star.” She bumps her hip into mine, and I fight the urge to wrap my arm around her to keep her pressed firmly against me.

“L…” I hem and haw for a few seconds before grinning over at her. What I’m about to suggest is going to get a hard no really fast, but I’m going to say it anyway. “Line dancing.”

“Line dancing?”

“Yep.”

“Like…” She starts shuffling her feet. “Line dancing, line dancing?”

“Is there another kind?”

“I don’t think so, but maybe you know something I don’t.”

“There’s nothing I know that you don’t, sunshine.”

Her brow furrows as she sets me with a hard stare. “You know how to calm Pete down when he’s having an anxiety attack. You can make all the kids laugh when they’re having a bad day. You can take a bunch of random ingredients and make an incredible meal. You make me feel seen,” she almost whispers the last part as she looks down.

Taking her chin between my thumb and forefinger, I tip her chin up so she’s looking at me. “Everyone sees you, Sophie. You’re impossible to ignore.”

She shakes her head, and I watch as her eyes fill with tears, rain clouds darkening her irises. “No. People see what they want to see. And it’s easier to see a smile as something it’s not than it is to ask what’s going on behind it. I got so good at hiding things. But I know you see me by the way you look at me and speak to me.” I freeze as her hands cup my face, and I fully stop breathing, afraid that I may wake up and this will all be a dream. But no dream has ever felt like her hands on my face. No dream could produce the way her eyes search mine. “By the way you touch me.”

I’ve got my hands clenched at my sides because I’m not sure if I could touch her right now in a way that reflects everything she’s saying. If I touch her now, it will be desperate and careless, and the very last thing I want to do is touch her with careless hands. If I get the opportunity to touch Sophie Hore, to really touch her, every single graze of my skin on hers is going to be intentional.

“I’m sorry.”

Confusion spreads across her beautiful face. “Why?”

“I’m sorry people haven’t seen you.” She wraps her arms around my neck, hugging me tightly, halting my words as I finally move my arms to wrap around her waist. She calms me. Grounds me.

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