Plot Twist(4)

And he couldn’t linger for too long, as Sophie was waiting. So he walked to the kitchen, went to the sink, and cleaned up with paper towels. His shirt was another matter, so he decided to just take it off. Dash carefully peeled the shirt over his head, crumpled it into a ball, and threw it in the trash.

In the kitchen, she’d installed a twee, retro-looking fridge, but the only food inside was a half-eaten wheel of Manchego cheese. There was, however, an abundance of water options—sparkling, mineral, and coconut, which he grabbed a bottle of.

As he walked toward the door again, she was not sitting in the grass, as he’d instructed. Instead, she stood at the top of the steps with her body pressed against the pillar for support. Apparently, she hadn’t listened to him at all.

“Dash...what happened to your shirt?” She smiled, a cocked little thing that raised one side of her mouth and revealed a very pronounced canine tooth, like a demented hungover vampire. He’d occasionally found that smile charming, but today? Not as much.

“Someone puked on it.” He gave her a tight nonsmile back.

A hot wind whipped across the porch and her dress opened slightly to reveal a sliver of freckles that trailed between her breasts.

He coughed and looked away. Part of the problem was that Dash had always found Sophie attractive. Before renting to her, he’d met Sophie through Poppy a handful of times, and every time, he inevitably noticed something kind of tempting about her. Like, when she genuinely laughed, it was loud and uncontrolled and caused people to turn and stare. And perhaps it was a little weird, but he liked the scar on her chest and always wanted to ask her how she got it—he knew there was a story there. Not to mention that she wore these light, flowing dresses that clung to her whenever there was so much as a slight breeze...

But despite all those little details he continued to notice, he knew that he had to keep his distance from Sophie Lyon. Because not only was she his tenant but also his sister’s very best friend in the whole world. And his sister didn’t have a lot of close friends. None of the Montrose children did, because of who their family was. And he wasn’t about to mess up the one true connection Poppy had just because he thought Sophie was kind of cute.

“You’re dehydrated,” he quickly said, clearing away any lingering thoughts. “Here’s your papaya water.”

“Coconut water,” she corrected. “But thank you.” She reached for the bottle, and their hands met. Despite the heat outside, her fingers were icy cold.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re not usually this...messy.” He couldn’t think of a better word for what she was in that moment, but he still winced as he said it. “What happened?”

She let out a pitiful little laugh, then unscrewed the cap and took a small sip. “Well, my life is over. Like, I will probably never work again, and I’m totally embarrassed, and I can no longer go to karaoke bars. And I love karaoke, so it’s kind of tragic... Did you see the video of me?”

“I did.” He’d watched it over Sophie’s shoulder right before she let out the scream of an angry banshee. Not that he blamed her. She’d gone viral while drunk and shouting that love wasn’t real. How many times had he been wasted and done things he couldn’t remember?

“Are you going to make a response video or something?” Dash tried to be helpful, as TikTok was something he actually knew a bit about. “People would eat that up.”

“A response video?” She swallowed loudly. “Maybe I’m just really hungover, but I feel like you’re not using words correctly.” She rubbed the back of her hand across her forehead.

Why had he said anything? He didn’t need to be doling out advice, but he couldn’t seem to help himself. “Just tell people your side of the story. And make sure to add hashtags. Those are important.”

Sophie frowned. “The thing is, I don’t really have my own side of the story. What I said is true—I’ve never been in love.”

“So I heard,” he said jokingly, but she just carried on talking.

“And I can’t seem to finish my next book because I can’t figure out how to give my characters a happily-ever-after.” She blew air through her lips. “Sorry, I know I talk a lot.”

She talked a lot and kind of quickly. But Dash wasn’t comfortable with people who just unzipped their issues and spilled their feelings all over the place. He found that a lot of actors had this quality. Being on camera meant you were required to be able to tap into a range of emotions at the word Action! But he’d never gotten used to the immediate openness of his former job. Dash was more of a tin can when it came to feelings: tightly sealed, hard around the edges, and not worth the effort.

So he did what any person would when wanting to avoid emotions and pivoted the conversation. “I’ll carry you to the couch,” he said.

“You will not carry me,” she said. “Dash, that’s absurd.”

“I don’t have all day.” He checked the time on his phone, as if he had somewhere to be when, really, he had an entire day of nothing ahead of him. “If you fall here, it’s much more serious than falling in the grass. And besides, I can bench-press at least five of you.”

Her gaze flitted to his bare chest, and he decided to flex his pecs, just for fun. She awkwardly coughed at that, but eventually looked back up.