Trillion(38)

At least Westcott is upfront about what he wants.

He’s not pretending like most men do.

He’s stated exactly what he expects from this arrangement, even going so far as to put it in writing—unlike Nolan.

Nolan lied.

Nolan manipulated.

Nolan obliterated my heart and changed me forever.

This arrangement isn’t forever—it’s two years with a side of co-parenting.

I could do a hell of a lot worse than Westcott.

Lord knows I once gave my heart to the devil himself.





Twenty-Seven





Trey

Present



She’s in silk pajamas, hair back, face free of makeup. Still the fascinating beauty who first intrigued me, but there’s a vulnerable quality to her now. As if she’s removed a mask and stripped down to a more natural state.

She climbs into bed beside me, tense as she get situated. And she fusses with the covers, getting them just so.

It’s awkward, sure. But we’re separated by a continent-sized space. She’ll survive.

I get the lamp. The room succumbs to darkness.

“Relax, Sophie,” I say, exhaling.

“I am relaxed.”

“You really need to practice this lying thing. You’re terrible at it.”

She rolls to her side. I can almost see her smiling in the dark. “All right. Fine. This is weird for me.”

“You’ll get used to it.”

“This isn’t weird for you?” she asks.

“Of course it is. Think of it as a sleepover with your best friend.”

“Best friend?” She laughs. “We’re moving at breakneck speed, but I don’t think we’re there yet.”

“Then we’ll fake it until we make it …”

She yawns. “I told my mom about … us.”

“What’d she say?”

“She wasn’t thrilled. But I told them they could meet you this weekend.”

“I’m actually going to Seattle this weekend …”

“Oh. I didn’t know.”

“Of course not. I hadn’t mentioned it yet. I was going to ask you to join me. I’ll be working most of the time, but you can explore the city and we’ll reconvene at night,” I say. “The following weekend, I’d be happy to meet your mother and sister.”

Sophie yawns. “Sounds good …”

“So you’ll come?” I ask. “On the trip?”

“Sure …” she’s checked out, giving into the day’s exhaustion. It’s easy to forget that not everyone crams a million life-altering decisions into their day and sleeps like a baby at night.

A minute later, she rolls to her side, covers pulled just beneath her chin. I could reach across the bed and feel her warmth, and yet she couldn’t be more untouchable.





Twenty-Eight





Sophie

Past

“Your mother called me today,” Nolan says.

“What?” My stomach sinks. She had to have gone through my phone when I was sleeping to get his number. She’s never done anything like that before. Then again, I’ve never given her a reason not to trust me until recently.

“She doesn’t want us to be together. She thinks I’m using you.” He scoffs. “You know I’m not using you, Soph. Right?”

“God, yes.” I climb into his lap and kiss him to prove that I know.

His eyes examine mine in the dark.

“Don’t listen to her,” I say. “My dad broke her heart. She’s worried you’re going to break mine.”

“I would never.” He cradles my face in the warmth of his palms, a light trail of cologne wafting from his wrists.

I breathe him in. “I know.”

“I promised her I’d take care of you.”

“What’d she say?”

“She hung up on me.”

I laugh. That sounds exactly like something she’d do. Whenever she’s upset about something, silence is her primary response. Sometimes it’s a relief, knowing the argument is over. Other times it’s terrifying, wondering what she might be thinking or if it’s tearing her up inside.

There’s more weight in the things people don’t say than what they do say.

“Don’t let her get to you,” I tell him. “I’m an adult. She can’t tell me who to be with.”

He rolls me to my back, pinning me beneath him. His hardness presses between my thighs as he kisses my neck. “Enough about her.”

If he doesn’t care, then I won’t either.

Tonight, it’s us against the world.





Twenty-Nine





Sophie



Present



The Westcott mansion comes to life shortly before sunrise the next morning. The scent of coffee and eggs permeate the air the closer I get to the hustle and bustle of the kitchen. When I pass the main foyer, a woman in a gray uniform arranges a fresh assortment of flowers in an oversized vase. I offer her a nod and a quiet, “Good morning.” She nearly does a double take before offering me the same.