Page 11 of The CEO I Hate

“Absolutelyyes.” Her smile was positively wicked. Sophie was always pushing me to take risks, and at moments like these, I wasn’t sure whether I loved or hated her for it.

I took the corset from her, pulled my tank top over my head, and slid into the silky material. It slipped like butter against my skin, and I let my hands drift down the fabric as Sophie turned on her speakers.

Cher’s “Strong Enough” poured out, filling the apartment with the kind of thumping beat that made me want to take even my terrible dance moves to the floor. Sophie returned to lace me up, spinning me around to face her when she was done.

“God, you look so hot.”

I inhaled sharply. “I’m not sure I can breathe.”

“You don’t have to be able to breathe. You just need to be able to shake things on beat. Let the va-va-voom seep into your soul.” She marched across the living room, letting Cher’s magnificent belt feed into every movement before pausing like a fashion model, one hand on her hip, the other held aloft for an invisible microphone.

Before my very eyes, she twirled and ripped away her skirt, tossing it at the imaginary crowd on the couch, leaving her in those teeny-tiny shorts. I blinked in surprise as sparkly strips of material flew around the room. Apparently, Sophie’s costume had been designed for a strip tease. She twerked at her imaginary audience.

“This thing isn’t going to spontaneously combust, is it?” I tugged at my own corset. The last thing I needed was for my bits and parts to be airborne.

“You’re fine. Yours isn’t designed to pull apart. Not like mine. Ugh, I love this,” Sophie said, pulling at more hidden snaps and strips of Velcro. Her costume came apart piece by piece.

And then she was standing there in nothing but her shorts and tassel pasties.

They were also bright blue, adorned with more little rhinestones. She dropped her hands to her hips with a satisfied grin. “You know, there’s just something empowering about being half naked in a room.”

“If you say so.”

“It makes you realize it’s all about owning the space. Like you did with Liam yesterday.”

“I was definitely not naked in the coffee shop,” I said. That thought made me flush, probably the same color as the corset I wore.

She took my hands. “No, but I’m still really glad you stood up for yourself.”

I snorted. To anyone else, this would look strange. But with Sophie, this was just a regular day—nipple tassels and all. “I hear abutcoming.”

“Buuuuuut,” Sophie sang, turning away and dragging in a chair from the kitchen that she sometimes used to practice her routines. She threw her leg up onto the seat, doing a sexy kind of stretch.

“You shouldn’t let what Liam said get to you so much. Caring that much about his opinion gives him power over you. And what do we not do? Say it with me now.” She clapped out each word. “Let. Men. Make. Us. Feel. Bad. For. Existing. We deal with enough shit, we don’t need to let them inside our heads too.”

“I don’t carethatmuch,” I muttered, plopping back down on the couch as Liam’s words echoed in my head. Truthfully, they’d stung more than I wanted to admit.

What was the last real writing job you had…God, what a complete ass! It was the kind of thing my parents would have said, though in their case it would not be to hurt me intentionally, but to point out they’d always been right—that I’d picked a risky, unreliable career.

“I’m just saying,” Sophie continued, “you need to take your power back. That’s the only way you’ll stop thinking about what he said.”

“Oh, I plan to. In the next update ofHeart and Hustle.” I was already envisioning a scene with Miles playing out in my head. It involved a bucket of oat milk,Carrie-style.

Sophie smirked at the look on my face. “Let me guess?—”

A knock on the door interrupted what she was going to say. She paused Cher, then danced over to the door and peeked out the peephole. Her face lit up like she’d just spotted a piñata full of bad decisions.

She threw the door open wide, fully rhinestoned and gloriously unbothered.

“Well, isn’t this an unpleasant surprise,” she said.

It was Liam. I could see his face from where I was seated. I was actually a little impressed that he didn’t seem flustered by Sophie’s near nudity. I knew she was trying to rattle him, but all he did was look past her to lock eyes with me. “Can we talk?”

Oh, so we were doing this.

“I don’t know, can we?” I said, voice sweeter than antifreeze. “Or are you just going to whine about Miles some more?”

Liam opened his mouth but managed to bite down on his retort, stuffing it beneath his signature scowl. “I think we can manage to have one productive conversation.”