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I’m more than just shy, Sophia wanted to say.
“But…” said Simon with meaning, “I think we’ve both figured out this last day or two that we’re probably going to work better as friends. I’m not wrong, am I Sophia? I haven’t offended you?”
She stopped dancing, too surprised to both think and move.
“Oh. No. I just thought…”
“I thought so too.” He smiled. “But I’m fairly sure that I could try to kiss you tonight and you wouldn’t really want me to.”
She stared at his chest for a moment, then risked a glance up. There was nothing but kindness in his eyes. And perhaps a little regret, but of a friendly kind.
“I would like to be your friend though, Simon. I’m starting to appreciate having friends.”
“Definitely, Sophia. I will gladly be your friend.”
They exchanged a smile, and on a rare impulse, Sophia hugged him quickly. When she drew back, Simon glanced over her shoulder and said, “And as your friend, my first piece of friendly advice is…go and speak to your sort-of neighbour, sort-of friend Jay Orton. Because the way he’s looking at us, it seems like he might have a few things he needs to get off his chest.”
Sophia spun around, just in time to see Jay leaving, pushing his way through the crowd and out of the ballroom.
Chapter seventeen
Jay
JaywatchedSophiadancewith Simon. He saw the way she smiled up at him, something close to joy on her face before she threw her arms around him and hugged him.
Hugged him.
Since when was Sophia a hugger? Since Simon came along, he guessed.
Wonderful.
It was all so wonderful that Jay thought he was going to be sick.
He turned away with a hot, shaking sensation in his chest, needing to move, to be somewhere, anywhere else. To look at anything other than Sophia in another man’s arms.
Because if he didn’t, he was going to break something or cry, or possibly both, and neither would improve this already dreadful party.
“Jay! Wait!”
That was her voice. He stilled. Looked back. She was coming towards him. Why, he had no idea, but then everyone started singing Happy Birthday and he looked over to the side of the room where a waiter was making their way carefully across the room carrying a large white-frosted birthday cake with a sparkler on the top spitting silver stars.
Sophia looked at the cake and then at Jay.
She came his way.
Or she tried. But her mother took her elbow, and Rose was there, and all their fuddy-duddy friends.
She was stuck. And she must be hating it, trapped in that circle of well-wishers, all eyes on her. Jay ought to be there at her side, shielding and supporting her however he could. But instead he saw Simon, the tall man easy to spot above the huddle of middle-aged women. He met Jay’s eyes, and his expression was…sympathetic.
He knew. In five minutes he’d figured out Jay’s feelings—and he pitied him. Jay flushed. He wasn’t normally the guy that didn’t get the girl. But this wasn’t just any girl.
He left before they all finished singing. Behind him, he heard everyone cheer.
“Make a wish!”
Sophia
Sophia blew out the candles hurriedly and started trying to extricate herself from the crowd. She felt a firm hand at her elbow. Simon, guiding her through the well-wishers.
