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And I know that something is actually someone.
After the show, Fritz and Karl go out to party as per usual with their groupies. Adrian goes straight to his room to avoid temptation, and I also stay in, hoping Sofia is still awake after closing the bar.
When she texts back that she’s up, I’m like a kid on Christmas morning. This woman has brought me down to my knees, and she doesn’t even know it.
Or does she?
I smile when the video call icon appears on my phone, and I sit up on my bed. When the call connects, my jaw nearly drops at the sight of her.
Sofia is sitting up against her deep-blue velvet headboard. She wears a white ribbed tank, and grey satin sheets cover her legs. I don’t want to be anywhere but with her between those sheets. I almost think I feel...homesick.
“Hi,” she says and bites her lip, which drives me wild.
“Don’t do that,” I say.
“What?”
I smirk at the camera. “You know damn well what. Don’t bite your lip.”
She blinks for a moment, then bites it again—the insolent woman that she is. “Why not?” she asks demurely as if there is an ounce of demureness in her.
“It does things to me,” I warn her.
“Oh?” She continues to play dumb.
“Yes. Now tell me. How was your day?”
She shrugs. “Same old, same old.”
I sigh. “I don’t know what that is, Sofia. You’re going to have to give me a little more than that.”
“Okay. Let’s see. It wasn’t too busy tonight, so I let my waitress Tracy go home early. Joe closed up. Nothing spectacular, really. How was your concert?”
“It was okay. I’m a little jaded at this point,” I admit. “So, can I ask about why you opened up a bar?”
Her nose scrunches up. “I guess we’re talking about me tonight.”
“If you don’t mind.” I flash her a smile to hopefully make her comfortable. She laughs.
“Well, I knew I wanted a business of some sort once I got my MBA. I bartended through college and really loved it. When I got my business degree, I knew exactly what I wanted to do with it.”
“I can tell you love what you do.”
She grins wide. “I really do. It’s a lot of hard work, but it’s worth it. It’s pretty successful, actually.”
“That’s great,” I say.
“Yeah. I even have this restauranteur from Chicago interested in buying it, but I’d never do that.”
The pride she takes in her work is refreshing, and I find myself feeling proud of her and her accomplishments too. I already knew she came from a single-parent family and that her mother lives in Mexico. For her to have such a successful business so young is pretty fucking spectacular and damned impressive.
Then she bites her lip again, and I doubt she realizes she does that when she is thinking. “Stop biting your lip, Sofia—”
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to that time.” After a half-smile, she asks, “How did you get into music? I want to hear about you.”
“I didn’t. I got into writing first.”
“Writing?”
