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“What the fuck did you say?” he bellowed.
Loch’s eyes darted to Levi before slowly moving back to meet his. “I just meant, you know her mom, right?”
“Fuck you, Lochlan,” he snarled.
“Lennox!” His mother’s gasp could be heard a mile away he was sure.
“Ma–"
“Don’t you ‘Ma’ me, young man. Watch your tongue, and we’ll be fine.” The anger in her voice shocked him until he turned around and saw Sophia standing on the porch with her.
The sunlight hit her in such a way that it was like a spotlight, and she was on display just for him so he could admire her beauty. Take her in a like a breath of fresh air.
Her light blonde curls framed her gorgeous face. Lips plump and begging for him to nibble on them, eyes so dark and expressive. He saw her confusion about his mother giving him shit, a small smirk playing on her succulent lips.
“It’s alright, Lorraine,” he heard her whisper.
“No. It’s not. You keep those words for the shop, Lennox.” Suddenly he was five years old again and sniffing his pop’s whiskey glass.
“Whatever you say, Ma,” he submitted.
Lorraine Hogan was what her friends called sweet as cherry pie. He called her a tyrant. She ruled the family home with an iron fist, and heaven help those that tried to defy her. If they were walking straight the next day, they were lucky sons of bitches.
“Why don’t you boys come inside for some sweet tea?” she asked them with a Cheshire cat grin, and he knew she was up to something.
Nox was man enough to admit he should probably be scared.
Sophia’s intoxicating aura held him a captive, willing audience, and he’d walk through hell to be closer to her. She refused to look any of them in the eye as they marched past her and his mom one by one. When he would have entered the house, he stopped in front of her. Wanting—no needing—their eyes to connect. To feel the punch in the gut he was sure he would get.
As her hands began to fidget, he could tell she was uncomfortable, and yet, he couldn’t draw his intense gaze from her if he’d tried, which he didn’t. Not when his mother lightly touched his elbow in support—the sneaky witch—and not when she realized he was blocking her way into the house.
Once he was sure they were left alone, he whispered, “Sophia,” letting her name roll off his tongue. Fuck did he ever love the sound of it on his lips.
He saw her dart a quick look up from below her lashes before her eyes shot to the ground again. Her breathing picked up, and she began rocking on the balls of her cute little pumps.
“How old are you, Soph?” She couldn’t be over twenty, he’d swear on it.
“Nineteen,” she murmured after clearing her throat.
He was internally pumping his fist while outwardly he smiled, still waiting for her to look up. Hoping his silence would unnerve her enough to finally meet his stare.
He’d have sworn she was about to say something when some fancy looking BMW pulled up to the curb, and her entire body tensed so hard he thought she might shatter.
“You okay, Soph?” He didn’t recognize the vehicle, but she obviously did.
Nodding, she whispered sadly, “Please tell Lorraine thank you for me,” darting down the porch before he could say anything in response.
When the driver’s side door opened and her mother stepped out, a string of curses flew from his lips. “Well, hello, Lennox,” Rebecca purred, making him want to vomit. His eyes remained glued to Sophia, though, as she stopped in front of the car, shoulders slumped. “Why Sophia,” she says loudly, “if I’d known you were coming for the view, I’d have joined you.” Her sly smile didn’t fool him.
“I read with Mrs. Hogan, Mother.” Sophia’s voice was robotic. It was eerie.
“Don’t be so stupid, Sophia. We know Lennox is a better
view.”
He was disgusted with her. Absolutely repelled.
What he saw in Soph as she looked back towards him was what had him stepping forward. Her body wilted at her mother’s words. Her eyes were cold and detached.
