Plot Twist(66)

Though, perhaps the fact that they could never be in a relationship should’ve worried her more. Because, really, what Sophie felt for Dash went beyond friendship. When they were apart, the nudging reminder that she was missing something rose up. And when she was around him, she wanted to touch him, or hold his hand, or feel the press of his lips against hers. She’d started to daydream about the simple act of exploring his tattoos with her fingertips.

“What does this tattoo mean, Dash?” She turned on her side and traced the ink that wrapped around his forearm with her middle finger. “Why is there a little seagull flying above the waves?”

“That birdie is called a tern, actually.” Then Dash sat up and extended his right arm to give her a closer look. There was one enormous swell of inky black and dark blue with sea spray all around. She rubbed her thumb across the lone bird just above the tip of the wave. “I got this one after being sober for a year. One of the people I met in AA was an ornithologist. She was always talking about birds she’d seen. She told us that whenever terns are threatened by high water, they furiously collect objects and vegetation to raise their nests and protect themselves. And I liked the idea of that. These small but mighty birds who will just adapt and do whatever it takes to build a wall of protection from the chaos around them. So the waves, for me, symbolize the chaos, and the tern is a reminder that I can stay above it.”

Sophie admired Dash, her little tern, all the more then. She’d wanted to get a tattoo but had never been able to settle on what design would be meaningful. She’d had a hard time landing on something that would always bring joy when she looked at it. Plus, she hadn’t thought as deeply about a tattoo as he clearly had.

She propped herself up on her elbow. “If I got a tattoo, I’m pretty sure I’d get something really ridiculous that I’d be embarrassed about.”

“Oh, you mean like this?” Dash brought his leg up, grabbed his foot, and lifted his big toe to reveal a little smiley face inked on the underside. The face had one winking eye and a floppy tongue hanging out playfully from the side of its thin mouth.

She bit her lip as she inspected the sweet drawing. “Oh, Dash, I want to laugh so much, but I honestly think the winking eye makes it very endearing.”

“I don’t really remember getting that one. All I know is I woke up the next morning with saran wrap on my foot and couldn’t put any pressure on it for a good twenty-four hours. Which the director of the movie I was working on loved, obviously.” He looked down at the bedspread, maybe embarrassed by the memory. “But at least I didn’t get it on my ass?”

“That’s the spirit.” She rubbed his back, which was still damp with sweat.

“What about this?” The tip of his finger ran across the scar on her chest. “What’s the story there?”

She ran her own finger across the faded pink scar. “I was born with a congenital heart defect. This thing called aortic stenosis, which basically means I had a valve that was too small.”

“The valve couldn’t handle your big heart,” he said jokingly.

She rolled her eyes but also appreciated that he wasn’t scared by her condition. “They did a surgery to try to replace it when I was a kid, but the valve wasn’t growing the way it needed to. We decided the pacemaker would be the best option after I passed out when I was driving one time. That’s why I still don’t drive, actually.”

He brushed hair behind her ear and placed a soft kiss on her cheek. “You’re one tough lady, Soph.”

“That’s what makes me part robot, as Nina likes to say.” Sophie shrugged because she barely noticed the pacemaker anymore.

“If you’re telling me I just slept with an AI, then that makes me weirdly more excited.”

She giggled because anything that made him happy made her happy, too. “You have a scar, too, you know.” She ran her thumb across the little line in his eyebrow.

“Mine doesn’t come with technology that makes me superhuman, though.” He purposefully raised his brow. “I was five, and Poppy was chasing me through the house. I tripped on the marble stairs, and my face landed at the edge. Apparently I almost ruined my mom’s antique Persian rug with all the blood.”

Sophie imagined his mom emphasized that point when she retold the story. “Kitty always knows what’s important in life.”

“Always.” His jaw tightened slightly. But then Dash’s doorbell rang, and they both turned. “It’s probably a delivery.”

But then it rang again.

They eyed each other. “Maybe it’s your friend Chris?” Sophie wanted to at least be wearing a bra if it was someone who wasn’t a delivery. She stood, found her bra, and quickly put it on.

“Chris knows I hate surprises.” Dash stood and slipped into his boxers. His phone on the bedside table vibrated, and he frowned as he picked it up. “It’s Poppy.”

Sophie checked her phone, but there was nothing from her.

“Poopy Pants?” Dash answered. His tone changed to something more akin to panic. “You’re here?” He moved to his bedroom window to glance out, but as he did, Poppy’s face appeared.

Sophie dropped down to the ground and hid herself behind the bed. Poppy was there, at Dash’s place, and Sophie was inside, and they’d just...