Sophie almost choked on her wine. He was a crafter? News to her. He hadn’t so much as mentioned that he… What did crafters do? Macramé?
“What do you make?” Ned asked.
“Mostly ceramics, but sometimes I work with candles, soaps, and body wash.”
“You do?” Sophie’s voice sounded way too surprised but, well, she was surprised. The guy lived next door to her, and they’d spent more than an hour alone in the car together, but he’d never brought up anything about ceramics. “You never told me that.”
Dash looked at her, amused. “That’s because I can’t get a word in, most of the time.”
Ned snickered loudly.
“Sophie, I think I know why you and Ned didn’t work out—you both talk too damn much.” Brittany looked directly at Dash. “I can’t get him to shut up half the time, and he talks in his sleep. I never have peace.”
“Wait until the baby arrives,” Ned said. “You’ll think of this time as peaceful then.”
“We did four rounds of IVF to get this girl.” Brittany rubbed her bump. “When she’s here, she can scream as loud as she likes.”
“Congrats.” Sophie waved a hand at Brittany’s belly and then gave her a warm smile. “My sister, Nina, froze her eggs this year. She said the whole process was hard, but obviously worth it in the end.”
“Definitely.” Brittany nodded.
Ned and Brittany shared a look, and Dash leaned over to Sophie.
“Do you talk in your sleep?” His breath smelled sweet, like honey.
She didn’t think so, as no one she’d dated had ever mentioned it, but she said, “You’ll have to tell me if I do after tonight.” Their eyes met, and she nearly laughed at how forward she’d sounded. She’d really need to watch her words if they were going to share that bed.
“You look a little familiar, Dash. Did you act in anything I’d know?” Brittany asked.
Dash shook his head, as if dismissing the idea. “Mostly indie movies.”
“Well, everyone’s seen Holiday Bound.” Sophie elbowed him but found he didn’t playfully elbow her back.
“You were in that?” Ned asked.
“Yeah.” Dash scratched at the back of his head. “I played the little brother.”
“The little brother…” Brittany’s eyes darted around the lawn, as if searching for him. “The one who brings ice cream to bed and comes downstairs covered in chocolate?”
Dash seemed to fight back a smile. Sophie was relieved that he was warming up, especially since they had a whole night ahead of them.
“Oh, wait.” Brittany’s eyes narrowed. “Wasn’t the little brother the real brother of Reece Montrose?”
Dash paused before answering. “I am, yeah.” He looked down at his feet, and Sophie realized, too late, that maybe she shouldn’t have mentioned the movie at all. Maybe he was embarrassed by all the attention, or something?
“That is wild.” Brittany’s hands came up to her mouth. “We’re with Hollywood royalty.”
Sophie tried to shoot Dash what she hoped was an apologetic look, and he pursed his lips back, seeming to accept.
Ned lifted the wine bottle and peered at it. “You sure you don’t want some?”
Dash didn’t immediately respond, but his focus was on the glass.
“You know, I’m actually not feeling well.” Dash sent a hand through his hair. “I’m going to lie down.”
He looked to Sophie briefly, and she sensed he wanted to say something, but he didn’t. Instead, he turned to walk off toward the cottage.
“Dash?” Sophie called after him. She didn’t know why, but the look he’d given suggested that there was more going on. Maybe he really was just not feeling well, but she needed to see for herself. “Let me just make sure he’s okay.” Sophie handed Ned her glass and hurried after Dash.
The sun had completely set, and the trail back to the bungalow was lit by overhead strings of twinkle lights. The ground was uneven beneath her feet, but she took care not to deviate from the pavers lining the path.
“Dash?” she called out to him again, but he didn’t so much as turn to acknowledge her.
12
DASH
He’d heard Sophie call out his name. Of course he had. At this point, anytime she spoke, he paid attention. Still, he hadn’t stopped. What he needed was to get back to their room, close the door, and wait there until morning came. Then they could head home and pretend he hadn’t just fled a group conversation as if being chased by hornets.
He wasn’t going to drink. He wouldn’t break eighteen months of sobriety just because he was a little stressed at the idea of having to share a bed with Sophie or because someone happened to bring up his family. He wouldn’t.
Still, he needed to put distance between himself and the bottle. He didn’t want any unnecessary temptations. When he got to the room, though, Sophie had caught up and closed the door behind her. She wasn’t tall, but her curves took up space. Not that he should be sneaking glances at the top of her dress, where her cleavage was pushed up and toward him…
“Hey.” Her hands easily rested on her hips. “You okay?”
“Fine, just needed to get out of there.” Not exactly a lie, but also not the whole truth.
“Can I ask you something?” Her eyes were heavy with concern, and he couldn’t help but notice the faint lines at the edges. He nodded yes, and she continued, “You seemed upset out there—not like yourself. What was going on?”
He waited for another lie to come, but instead the truth tumbled out. “I don’t drink.” He said the words to a corner of the room but eventually returned his focus to her. And to his relief, her eyes were clear and gentle, not even a flicker of judgment there.
“Do you mean, like, ever?”
In that moment, he knew that if he told her the truth, he would be safe. He could trust her. He took a breath in, then out, and finally said, “I’ve been sober for eighteen months.”
The words hung in the air: humid and sticky and making Dash limp from the embarrassment of having to reveal them.
But Sophie did not seem fazed as she calmly sat on the edge of the bed. She eventually asked, “Does Poppy know?”
“No one in my family knows. Just Chris, who’s my best friend, and now you.”
“Oh.” Her brows furrowed.
He sat on the bed just next to her. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t say anything to them, if that’s okay. My family is important to me, but I can’t trust them with this.”
“Of course,” she quickly answered. “I won’t.”
At Sophie’s words, an unexpected shiver ran through Dash, like releasing this weight had also taken away some of its power. Chris had told him that when he was ready to open up to the people in his life—mainly, his family—he’d feel relief, along with dread and apprehension, of course. But he didn’t feel dread, not as he looked at Sophie and her eyes softened.
“That must be really hard,” Sophie continued. “To have this big thing that they don’t know about.”