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He made a face. “Sorry I mentioned it. Go back to keeping your pie hole shut.”
We were stacking traps but I was straining to see the docks. I was tired, my muscles aching from lousy sleep and a hard day’s work, but it didn’t bother me. I liked it that my body reminded me that I wasn’t numb. Or dead. That I was alive and kicking despite the abuse I subjected myself to.
And today I wanted to be alive because today I was going to see Sophie.
I could admit that to myself.
She made me forget all the shit that dragged me down.
Which was why I found myself fighting a grin when I saw her walking down the dock and pausing to look around. I knew it was her. I would recognize that body anywhere. Her hair was whipping around in the breeze and she raised her hand to her forehead to scan the bay. I waved. She waved back.
“Who is that?” Liam asked, far too much interest in his voice for my taste.
Liam was a gossip. But while I had no intention of explaining myself, I realized I couldn’t care less about what he spread around town. This wasn’t like talk about Camp. This wasn’t me looking like a complete idiot. This was normal stuff. Seeing a girl stuff. I decided I liked this stuff. For today.
“She’s a friend.”
Liam grunted as he lost his grip on a trap. “Like a friend you play poker with or a friend you play strip poker with?”
“None of your business.”
“That tells me everything I need to know.” Liam sounded smug.
I didn’t care. As the captain brought us in to dock, I blew off my duties and jumped off the boat. “Hey,” I said to Sophie. “You found me.”
“I asked around,” she said, sticking her hands into the front pockets of her jeans. “You seem to be notorious. Everyone knows who you are.”
Everyone knew who all the Jordans were. “That’s because I’m fucking awesome.”
Sophie appeared to have one outfit. Jeans with a different T-shirt daily. The glory of that tight black dress had most likely been her sister’s idea. The eyelashes had been, for sure. This T-shirt was pale gray and was actually a little see-through, which I approved of, and I didn’t mind her casual wardrobe. It fit her. Her mind was too preoccupied with other things to have room for fashion.
It had been hard to crawl out of bed that morning and leave her behind. I knew she hadn’t slept well but I was glad she hadn’t booted me out of her bed right after I pulled out. Which I had been half expecting. She had been awake when I fell asleep and awake when I woke up. While I felt guilty about that, I also kind of liked it. Seeing her intense gaze on me as soon as I dragged myself out of a drunken slumber. It amazed me that she didn’t seem to care about my drinking. She never gave me a sidelong look of disdain or worry.
There had been a lot of women who had tried to offer me advice. To suggest that I drink less. Or settle down with them, because the love of a sweet girl would obviously fix all my nasty shit and dirty habits and lack of fucks to give. But what they never understood was that I had once thought I’d had the love of a sweet girl and she had turned out to be an accomplished liar with a dark need for hurting me the deepest way possible. Sweet girls were good for sucking my dick and nothing more. It was all superficial, all a bunch of bullshit. All words and winks and selfish manipulation.
What it meant when someone wanted to change you was that they wanted you to become more of what served them best.
Maybe that was the beauty of dating a genius. Sophie was smart enough to know you can’t change another person.
“You look hungover,” she said.
Trust Sophie to keep it real. “I am hungover a little. But mostly I’m tired because I couldn’t sleep with a certain mathematician hottie staring at me all night.”
Her cheeks got a tinge of color. “It wasn’t all night.”
“Who’s your friend?” Liam asked, his voice nosy and booming. I decided the crew and I needed to chip in and get the guy a hooker. He had too much free time on his hands.
I turned and gave him a dirty look. “This is Sophie.” I turned back and rolled my eyes at her. “This is Liam, the guy without a girlfriend, for obvious reasons.”
“Fuck off, Jordan,” Liam said. Then he smiled at Sophie. “Nice to meet you.” He clapped me on the back, hard. “See you on Monday.”
“Yeah. Have a good weekend, man.”
“Nice to meet you too,” Sophie said, though she wasn’t even really looking at Liam. She was looking at me.
It felt amazing and powerful. I had this girl’s attention. Fully. She wanted me. Not just to have her own ego stroked. But because I made her feel good physically. Which, yeah, I was proud of that.
Peeling my work gloves off, I reached out and touched the ends of her hair, flipping them up. “I’d kiss you but I don’t want to embarrass you.”
