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Irritation that she won’t just take my goddamn help surges through me. “So you’d rather live in squalor, rather ask for anonymous help than ask me?”
The second the words leave my lips, I know I’ve said the wrong thing. “Squalor?” Her face turns bright red and I can almost see the steam coming out of her ears. “It’s small and a little messy, but it’s not dirty. This is a nice apartment, you asshole.” She shoves at my chest but I plant my feet and refuse to be budged. “Just because I don’t live in a mansion like you, with a ridiculous shower doesn’t mean I live in a dump!”
“I thought you liked my shower?” I don’t bother to hide the smirk on my face at the memory of her in my shower, the way she’d sank to her knees in there, water hitting us from all sides.
“Ugh!” Stepping away from her door, she pokes a finger into my chest with a growl of frustration. Hard enough to hurt a little. I probably shouldn’t antagonize her, but I can’t seem to stop myself. “You are such a…such a man. I am asking you to stop sending things. I told you, I can’t accept them.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
Sophie sighs, some of the fight going out of her. “Won’t. I told you, this thing between us isn’t meant to be. You can’t just throw money and gifts at me and expect it to solve everything. I’ll be back at work on Monday.” She steps back, hand on the door behind her. A sad smile graces her lips and I want to kiss it away. “I’m sorry.” She’s through the door and locking it before I can speak, my voice gone and throat dry.
Shoving my hands in my pockets, I tear myself away from the door and head to my car. It takes the entire two-mile drive before my thoughts are clear enough for her words to sink in.
She doesn’t want my help. She doesn’t want me.
Twenty-one
Sophie
"I look okay, right?" I tug at my pencil skirt, an awkward move when perched half on a bar stool.
"You look amazing, Soph. Stop fidgeting." Lauren's bright red lips close around the straw in her drink before sucking down a long draw of her vodka soda.
Picking up my tumbler, I copy her, the bite of my drink distracting me from feeling self-conscious about my sheer top and tight skirt. "Why are we here again?"
"Because you need to forget about Jake and Theo and live a little." Lauren raises one penciled eyebrow at me. “Also, Emma begged me to take you out. You’re smothering her.”
"She just had emergency surgery, of course I’m smothering her. And I don't need to forget about Theo. There's nothing to be sad about."
Lauren doesn’t answer, just stares at me while she takes a long drink.
"I did the right thing, Lauren. He lives in a completely different world to me.”
Silence.
"Stop judging me. I'm not that girl, I don't take handouts from rich men."
That gets me a snort and a response. "When have you ever been offered a handout by a rich man? Jake sucked every penny you earned since we were college sophomores."
"You know what I mean. I'm not..." My fuzzy brain won't offer up the word I want. "I'm not so desperate that I..." I don't finish that sentence because it would be a lie. I am that desperate, hence why Lauren is acting as my sugar-mama on this night out. Every time I try to buy a round, she won't let me.
We've been here long enough for a couple of drinks and four different guys to hit on Lauren. Being a good friend, she's turned them all down, staying with me while I wallow in misery. But even two drinks in, I can tell she’s losing patience with me.
I'm not supposed to be miserable—I had every reason to turn Teddy down. All those reasons feel hollow now, when I’m sad and lonely and want nothing more than to feel his arms wrapped around my waist. "He wants to just buy me. He can't just buy me like that."
Lauren pats my knee while rolling her eyes. "He's not trying to buy you, he’s trying to take care of you. Jesus Christ, woman. I love you, but you are so fucking stubborn."
I huff. "I am not."
"You are." Lauren sticks her tongue out. "You won't let me help pay for Emma's hospital bill, and you won't let Theo help you. Jake can’t help since him being out of work again is the reason Emma was uninsured. But you can't pay it either. I know you don't have thirty thousand dollars laying around, babe. What other option is there?"
I shake my head, unwilling to hear her point. "I'll figure it out."
Lauren stares over the edge of her glass. "How?"
"I don't know." I shrug. "But I'll figure it out. I don't need anyone's help."
“God, you are infuriating sometimes.” With a snort, she sets her glass down on the bar. “Let me know when you’re ready to be reasonable and have an actual adult conversation about this.” She stalks off to the dance floor before I can respond.
