Page 80 of Truth or Tequila (Grand Slam 1)

Chapter Thirty-Three

sophie

“I’m taking your phone with me,” Maisie says as she crawls out of bed. She tries to grab it, but I pull it away from her.

“I won’t text him back. I promise,” I say, burying the phone under the blankets. “And I need to keep it so I can text you if I change my mind about what ice cream I want.”

“Sophia,” she says, raising her eyebrows, “when have you ever wanted any flavor besides Chunky Monkey?”

“I won’t text him, Mae.”

“Okay,” she says as she gathers the wads of used tissues off the floor and throws them in the trash. “I’ll be back in fifteen minutes and I’m checking your phone.”

Seb’s been texting me for hours—all during the game. Maisie’s barely left the apartment when he tries to call me. The game must be over. He calls me a few more times. I send the calls directly to voicemail. I can’t handle hearing his voice right now.

“Sophie!” Seb’s voice vibrates through my apartment. I sit straight up in bed and look around. His voice is so loud. It feels like he’s right next to me.

“Sophie!” It’s even louder this time and accompanied by a loud pounding noise.

It takes me a minute to realize he’s at my front door. More pounding. I pull the blankets over my head.

“Sophie!” The louder he yells, the further I burrow down into my blankets. “Sophie! Open the door. I can explain.”

My phone beeps again. I peek at it. The text isn’t from Seb. It’s from my neighbor, Cameron. He lives across the hall.

Are you home? Some guy’s trying to break down your door. I looked through my peephole, but I don’t recognize him. It’s not Sam.

Are you ok? Do you want me to call the cops?

I throw off the blankets and jump out of bed. That’s the last thing I want.

I’m good. I was sleeping. It’s one of my friends.

No worries. I’ll let him in. Sorry to bother you, C.

I get to the door just as Seb hits it again—more softly this time.

“Soph,” he says. “Please let me in. I know you’re home.”

“I’m not letting you in,” I whisper through the door crack, “and you need to quit yelling. My neighbor wants to call the cops.”

“Sophie,” he says, letting out a long breath. “Thank God you’re okay. Please let me in. I can explain.”

I sink down the wall until I’m sitting on the floor with my back up against the door. “You can explain with the door closed.”

I hear him slide down the door. “It’s not what you think.”

“I think you lied to me. No, wait, I know that.”

“I didn’t lie to you.” His voice comes in through the crack right by my face. “You know I wouldn’t do that. I promised you I wouldn’t and I won’t. I swear.”

“You slept with her and you’re paying her to keep quiet.” The anger’s starting to rise in my voice. “I saw the bank transfers, Seb.”

“Yeah.” He’s whispering now. I can barely hear him. “I’m paying her, but it’s not for that.”

“Then what’s it for?”

It’s silent for about a minute before he says, “I can’t tell you, Soph. I wish I could, but I can’t.”

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