Chapter 25 – Linger
Wednesday, March 19, 2036
Ted
I have back-to-back meetings up until the end of the workday. Usually time flies by quickly whenever I have such an action-packed schedule. It hasn't been the case most recently – especially when I'm constantly looking forward to spending time with a certain girl who brings with her a certain sweet, sweet scent whenever she enters my car. Just the very memory of her unique aroma sends waves of electricity up and down my legs as I sit.
While thinking of scent and her, I idly wonder what she prefers to daub on her neck and wrists these days. Maybe I can buy her more of it as a gift, or something similar that an aromachologist picks out especially for her that'll continue to bring out her natural pheromones, keeping me as a helpless bee to her luscious honey.
My mind immediately flashes back to a time as a kid when I'd gifted Sophie with a bottle of Chanel No. 5 – not knowing back then – and how could I've known? I was just a smitten young boy – that the iconic fragrance was associated with more um…seasoned women. I grin slightly at the thought.
Right now, I sit in a conference room along with two-dozen others as the CFO goes on his usual budget rant in the presence of my parents and the VP. My mind wanders back to how much fun Sophie and I had last night on our date. It was only a simple dinner and a movie – nothing more. But it just feels like every time I'm with her, it's always exciting and new.
Last night, I reiterated to her my promise of never letting go of her again. She only smiled weakly at me; she never replied. Does she believe me or not? – I thought. I wonder if our fight from before still lingers in her mind. Since then, I've told her all of my dirty secrets. I have nothing else to hide.
Does she have anything else to hide? I shake away the ridiculous thought. Even if Sophie did have some other deep dark secret, I can't imagine it being a deal breaker. Sure, I freaked out a bit after finding out that she was still in love with me after she'd left me for another guy. But she believed that she was caught up in an impossible situation. We're talking restraining order impossible.
I wish I could lock Sophie and Mr. Taylor together in a room. They need to finally put their longstanding feud to rest. It's simple – Sophie and I are back together and Taylor knows it. She needs to let go of the past and forgive her father. If she saw the man that I saw back at the hospital, she'd take pity on him. Taylor has even admitted his mistakes.
My eyes shift over to the head of the meeting room table where my father is seated next to my mother. Part of me feels that he wouldn't fight me over seeing Sophie these days. I saw how shitty he felt after he realized how wrong he was for pushing me to marry Diana. I hope to think that we are now at a point in our relationship where he will begin to trust and/or respect my decisions moving forward.
But for now, all of these things must first be discussed with Sophie before she and I come out in the open – especially the case with her father. It also would be nice if I could finally meet her mother Shannon and son Ronan, too.
After our date yesterday, I took Sophie directly home. Although our night ended with me walking her to the lobby of her apartment, I was fine with that. Now don't get me wrong – I would've loved have taken her back home with me, or even just up to her apartment. It's taking ironclad restraint for me to go this long without touching her in every way. But with a little boy in her life, it's rather difficult for Sophie to engage freely on some quality alone time with me. She also had to work the morning shift the very next day.
Good thing I got to see her again earlier today when I drove her in to work. Needless to say, I cherish all of the small segments of time that I'm able to share with her. I seriously don't mind that she splits her time and affection between me, and her doted four-year-old little boy.
Maybe it's a good thing we haven't had time to be alone at her place or mine. Since making up, we haven't come close again to having sex since the night of our big fight. Lately I've been in the mindset of not pushing her in that direction. Simply spending time with her, holding her hand, and kissing her sweet soft lips has been more than enough to satisfy me.
Sophie has been my pocket-full of sunshine that I can always reach into and brighten up an otherwise mundane day. She's the very spice that my life's recipe was lacking.
When the meeting concludes, Marco, my former M&A boss leans over to me for a quick bit of small talk. I truly miss working with him on a day-to-day basis. As we stand mid-conversation, I quickly check my watch and realize that my next meeting is just five minutes away in my office.
"Catch you later, Marco," I say as I move ahead of him.
"Later, Ted," he says right before turning to his side to catch up with another colleague.
Before reaching the exit, my father suddenly grabs me by the arm, stopping me.
"Son," he utters.
I nod at both him and my mother who just interrupted their conversation with the CFO – who now moves off to the side in order to allow the three of us some privacy.
"I spoke to HR earlier and they mentioned that your team was in the process of building a new employee wellness app," Dad says.
My lips form a straight line in disguise of my annoyance. This wellness app was a new strategy that Phoebe and I recently came up with. In fact, I was just on my way to meet with her and Marisol about it. When I spoke to the head of HR on Monday about potentially implementing a new wellness app as part of the 2040 PTF initiative, I'd assumed that our brief discussion was off the record.
"We're only in the process of forming our proposal. Nothing's final," I assure my father.
"I was confused when I heard it. You hadn't mentioned it previously," he reacts, looking somewhat contemplative.
"I think it's a wonderful idea, Teddy," Mom interjects with a smile. "Placing every employee health-related resource under one app – it's smart."
"Agreed," my father volleys, looking at her before he turns back to me.
"Do it," he says in a sudden verdict. Wha…?
My mother nods in agreement. "I'll have Lola schedule a meeting with you and me first thing Friday morning to see where you are. Maybe I can offer you some insight."
I gape at the two of them. They're blindly rubber-stamping something that my sister and I concocted, without as much as batting an eye. Have I officially entered into the realm of adulthood in the sight of my parents? It sure does seem that way.
"Cool," I awkwardly reply. I still can't believe it. "I'll also have an update at our next PTF meeting."
"Good," my father says, patting me on the shoulder. "We have the forecast meeting next, Mrs. Grey?" he turns to his side and asks my mother.
"That's at three. Next, we have media and charitable planning," she corrects. He clicks his tongue and winks at her in response when he realizes she's in fact correct.
I'll never get over how adorable my folks can be when they work side by side. When Dad drops the ball – which seldom happens – Mom's right there to pick it up.
"We'll see you later, sweetheart," my mother tells me.
There's something strange about the way she's looking at me. There's almost an air of nostalgia etched across her youthful face. Maybe she's…proud? Honestly I don't know what it is. But instead of wasting any more of her time and mine, I ignore the look and lean in to kiss her quickly on the cheek in goodbye.
….
"Regular health challenges…both team and individual. Cash incentives for meeting certain criteria, such as having a yearly biometric screening and speaking with a wellness coach."
As Phoebe spouts off her ideas at the small round meeting table in the far end of my office, Marisol expeditiously transcribes it on her tablet.
"The tool should link up with the insurance company's system in order for the user to have visibility to all of their claims. They'll also be able to see results of their recent lab visit," I add. Phoebe nods in agreement.
Marisol types away before suddenly pausing to look up at us. "What about appointment notifications, as well as reminders to schedule regular check-ups?" Marisol adds.
Brilliant.
"Hell yes," Phoebe says enthusiastically.
"Put that down," I order.
I beam at the two women sitting before me. One of these days, my sister is going to make a kickass CEO – and when that happens, I hope that she will take Marisol right along with her.
There's a surprise knock on the door. Marisol quickly stands, but doesn't get there before it swings open. Standing on the other side is my pal Monty donning his Sahara's white chef's coat. I blink at the out-of-place vision.
"Oh, my bad," he says apologetically. "I didn't know you were in a meeting."
I smirk. "What are you doing here, slacker?" I hear the sound of a wildly ringing phone piping from behind Monty. I look over to Marisol who's itching to answer it.
I nod, granting her permission to leave. "I think we're good for now," I tell her. Marisol quickly gathers up her things and promises Phoebe and I she'll email us everything we've discussed. She then exits, shutting the door behind her.
Monty admires my office space as he saunters over to the table where Phoebe and I sit.
"And what brings you here?" Phoebe says with a curious smirk to Hanson's former high school baseball teammate – and mine.
"Well look at you, Miss Grey," he says, overly admiring my little sister with his beady eyes. It's a little too much for my liking. "I just got done catering a decent-sized lunch meeting for the finance department."
"I find it rather ironic that the department who's most tight-fisted with spending decides to cater a meal from a high-end club," I simper.
"Seriously," Phoebe sighs irritatingly.
Monty hunches his shoulders, brushing off our work-centered rant before refocusing his greedy eyes on my sister. He places a hand on the table right next to her and leans in. "So gorgeous, are you ready for a real man who's unafraid to give a real woman like yourself exactly what she wants, what she deserves – or are you still pussyfooting around with the altar boy?"
Really Monty? He has the gall to come up to my job, barge into my office, and hit on my sister in my face? I should knock him out.
Phoebe narrows her eyes at him and pouts her lips. "You may think that Hanson's an altar boy from the years you've known him…playing ball and such. But with me, he's anything but that at home – especially in the bedroom," she purrs.
I start dry heaving from my seat while Monty whoops like a maniac. "Hell yeah – that's my boy! I had him all pegged wrong. Hanson Larkin is the man. In fact, I think I'll stop by his office on my way out and personally give him my highest regards."
"Yes, do that," Phoebe says sassily with a wink as she stands. I am absolutely repulsed by this exchange, but my sister pays me no mind. "I'll catch you later, brother," she says to me before heading straight for the door with her notebook.
"Bye Phoebe," Monty calls out to her like an annoying little boy with an adolescent crush, but she ignores him. Still, it doesn't stop him from ogling her from head to toe until she's gone.
"Day-yum. She. Is. Fine. Larkin is one lucky bastard," he sighs, practically drooling with envy.
"That's my sister – you asshole," I glower.
"Well maybe your sister shouldn't be so fucking hot," he ribs. I would sock the pig square in his snout if he were anyone other than my trashy long-time friend.
Yep, this is classic Monty Carlo.
"So check this out," he starts as he takes the seat Phoebe just vacated. I find it rather amusing that Monty has zero regard for my time. He simply plops his ass down in a chair and begins what I'm sure will be a long and useless story about some female that he tried to fuck the other night. Never mind that he just interrupted the tail end of my meeting with my support manager and office manager.
"So, I met this gorgeous girl two weeks ago at the club during a big corporate gala," he prefaces. I roll my eyes. Yep, I knew it. "She fell in love with the lobster risotto and just had to meet the brilliant chef face to face."
He proudly polishes his nails against his coat. I close my eyes and shake my head in rising annoyance. Get to the point, Monty. I ain't got all fucking day. I'm too eager to finish the remaining work in my queue so I can promptly leave here and pick up my girl from the hotel.
"The server pulls me out of the kitchen to meet her. We immediately hit it off and start talking fine cuisine. Then the conversation eventually moves from food to fun," he tells me. "Then I decided to press my luck and ask for her number. She didn't hesitate to give it to me," he beams.
I nod with a smirk. "Good. Finally, you're learning."
"Yeah, I finally picked up some game from the master," he chuckles. "So we've been talking for about a week and a half – texting and phone calls. She's a cool ass chick. I eventually get the nerve to ask her out on a date. We pin down a time when we're both not working. She's a big-time event promoter with crazy ass hours and shit, you know," Monty adds, practically bragging on her.
His prideful smile quickly wipes away before he picks his story back up. "So Saturday, I decide to send her flowers and a small stuffed teddy bear a few hours before we're set to go out. Then all of a sudden, she cancels our date. By fucking text!"
I narrow my eyes at him. "What happened?" He obviously did something to completely turn her off. It never fails – he simply doesn't know when to turn off that stupid mouth of his. And if he were to ask me ahead of time, I would've advised him to hold off on the flowers and stuffed animals until after the third date.
"No clue," Monty helplessly sighs. "And she didn't even lie to me. She pretty much said – Nah, I don't think this is gunna work for me, playa. Thanks, but no thanks. I texted her back asking if it was something wrong I've done to make her change her mind. Ten minutes later, I get a response in form of a picture of the flowers, which looked great, along with the bear I ordered. Ted…the cute, innocent little bear was wearing a t-shirt that read: Bitch, You Is Fine."
"What?!" I choke.
"Now, you know that gift was sheer Monty," he says in the understatement of the year. "Any other babe would've received such a gift from me – but never this girl. She was classy and I was more than willing to change my naughty ways after we connected so well. But dude, I'm highly convinced that someone who works at the florist knows me and decided to fuck me over."
Reflexively, I sputter out a laugh. "Let me see the picture," I goad. Monty glowers at me, but I could care less. He asked for this after being a permanent thorn in my side for all of these years.
"I deleted that shit – I was so pissed. I wanted to deliver an ass whoopin' to the florist in person, but I called them instead and lit those motherfuckers up." At this point, I am howling at my poor, pitiful friend.
"They were extremely apologetic," Monty says. "They got my order mixed up with someone else's. That particular bear was supposed to go to some dude's wife. Now why he would call his lady a bitch, I don't know; I'm the last person to judge," he acquiesces.
"The florist tried to get in contact with my lady friend in order to set things right, but they couldn't reach her. They were even going to throw in an bigger set of flowers and bear…no shirt," he chuckles. "And to think, I was so looking forward to coming over to her place and taking my shirt off for her." I roll my eyes at him.
"So, she didn't bite?"
"Hell no," he frowns. "And it wasn't even my fault this time."
"Seriously," I chuckle. "You normally manage to fuck up things all on your own. You didn't need…what's the name of the florist?"
"Arcadia's Roses," he seethes. "Dumb motherfuckers. I hate them."
"Dude, we've been using them for years. We've never had a problem with Arcadia's Roses."
Monty narrows his eyes at me. "Who's 'we'?"
"The company, my pops, me…" I rattle off.
"You?" he smirks. "Oh, right – for Cersei Lanister."
"What?!" I laugh. "Diana didn't fuck her brother. In fact she doesn't even have a brother."
"But homegirl tried to claim the throne when it wasn't even rightfully hers. Now if that's not on some Game of Thrones, shit, I don't know what is." I shake my head at my mentally stunted friend.
"So…since my new lady friend isn't speaking to me anymore, and since you're no longer boo'd up, I'm on a mission to get us both set up before cuffing season."
I gape at him. "Dude – what in the hell are you even talking about? Cuffing season?"
"We're only six months away, but we need to get a jump on it now so we can weed through the crops. If you wait until summer to get started, you'll get stuck with the skeezers."
I stare at my stupid friend, dumbfounded.
"Monty, stop it. Please."
"I'm serious. You'll only find the drunk and loose girls in the summertime. They might be really cute at first, but you can't take them home to your momma during cuffing season."
I'm running low on patience. "You sound ridiculous right now. Hey – you were obviously making decent progress with the girl you were just talking to. It was an honest mistake that wasn't even your fault. If she's reasonable, maybe she'll finally let you take her out on that date," I say in encouragement.
"Naw, man. I've already tried. I don't think I even want to be bothered with the drama if she's not willing to forgive a mistake that I didn't even make."
"You have no clue what she might've just gotten out of. Perhaps she recently broke up with a real creep, so now she rushes to judgment. You're giving up way to easily, my friend," I smirk, waving a finger at him.
He sighs. "Man, I just don't know."
"Call her back. Leave her a message – short and sweet. Only say enough to leave her wanting more. Mark my words: She'll be eating out of your hand in no time – but only if you play your cards right," I grin. My encouraging words apparently do nothing to sway him. He still looks at me with a doubtful expression.
"You even like her?" I ask, questioning his motive.
"Hell yes," he say without hesitation.
"Well, there's your answer," I say poignantly.
Monty seems to reflect on what I've said. Gradually, it seems like there's some hope that he will give this girl another try. When his eyes zoom back to me, he blinks before narrowing them.
"Alright, Grey. Who is she and what has she done with my sensei?"
I immediately crack up laughing. "What in the fuck are you talking about?"
"You know damn well what I'm talking about. This isn't Player Ted I'm talking to…the man that all of the guys on the squad know and love. The same dude that can make any girl drop to her knees and bwok down his cock like a starving chicken," he says, animatedly flapping his bent arms and bobbing his head.
I rub my hand over my face in weariness and quickly recall why I can't 'Monty' for longer than a few minutes at a time. Why me? And I fucking used to live with this nutcase. How I survived during that time, I'll never know.
"Player Ted is no more," he theatrically declares. "This is…this is Whipped Ted. Hubby Ted." I gape at him before bellowing. I'm at a loss for words. "So, who's the new missus?" he asks. His eyes lock onto my face, demanding straight answers.
"Don't you need to get back to Sahara? I'm sure they're missing your mad risotto skills in the kitchen right now," I rag.
"Aww – Teddy's in love," he mockingly swoons, teasing me in a singsong fashion. "Why you cheesy motherfucker," he adds with a fake scowl.
I've had more than enough. "Bye, Monty. I've got work to do." I stand up and walk over to my desk and he follows me.
"Talk to me, bro," he pleads. "I need to know about the girl who dethroned Maleficent."
"Monty. Bye," I say clipped as I turn to my computer and start working.
….
After a seemingly long day, I finally pull up to the main entrance of the Fairmont Olympic Hotel. Valet knows who I am now, so they don't bother me. Sophie exits the building before I have a chance to text her. Every time I see her, she never ceases to take my breath away.
I see her wave goodbye to the two valet guys who are gathered by the podium before she reaches the passenger side of my car and climbs in. I immediately lean over the center console and kiss her soft lips. She smiles when I pull away.
"Hey," I beam like a fool in love.
"Hey," she answers with a sweetness that's all her own.
Once she buckles up, I shift the car into drive.
"How was your day?" I ask, glancing over at her.
"It was rather tame. Well…at least it was until I had to personally ask some b-list celebrity to leave the hotel after housekeeping reported that his roomed smelled like a Las Vegas casino," she says matter-of-factly.
I frown. "Really?"
"Yeah," she adds. "His room smelled like he, his entourage, and the entire cast of Mad Men smoked in there."
I laugh at her, not failing to be amused by her affinity for binging out on extremely old television programs. It goes to show why she and I fit so well together. Like Sophie, I love watching shows that originally came out many years before I was even born. They just don't make quality programs like they used to.
"So, what happened?" I ask. I signal the car to turn right and break first before I execute the maneuver.
"Well, when I asked him to leave the hotel, he yelled at me and then proceeded to call me Sugar Tits…"
"Wait a second," I say, cutting her off. I am now seething. "Who's this asshole, anyway?" If I ever meet this fucktard face to face, I will crush him with my bare hands for speaking to her like that.
"No one worth mentioning," she sighs. "So I kindly asked him once again to leave on his own, or I would be forced to call my big and burley security staff to show him the way. I also told him that I couldn't guarantee that any of his adoring fans or the paparazzi wouldn't be standing outside of the front door with cameras and camera phones in hand to capture him in being dragged out by security. I essentially told him that we could either do this the easy way, or the hard way."
Mid-acceleration, I briefly take my eyes off the road and beam at her. "Miss Sophie Taylor – I don't know whether to be turned on by you, or deathly afraid." She blushes a bright pink at my praise. "You strong powerful woman, you. I'm just sorry to hear that you had to put up with that bullshit today."
"Don't be sorry. It definitely pumped a little excitement into an otherwise boring Wednesday. It certainly helped to pass the time. I've been looking forward all day to having dinner with you," she smiles oh so sexily.
"I can most certainly relate," I say, reaching for her closest hand and pressing it to my lips. "So, what do you have a taste for?"
"Tacos," she sparkles, practically bouncing in her seat.
"Wasn't it just Taco Tuesday yesterday…with Ronan?" I remind her with a smirk.
Her smile dips slightly, but is still present. "It was, but I only made enough for him. I didn't have any. I had dinner with you afterwards, remember?"
"Ah," I exclaim at the recollection. "So tacos, huh? I know just the place."
Sophie takes my right hand and folds it in hers on her lap. I steal a glance of her gorgeous profile, and my heart soars. "I know you're tired of hearing me saying this, but you just don't know how happy I am that you're safe and unharmed from the accident."
When she flashes me a sentimental smile, I suddenly think about how happy her father would be if he could only see her now. "Believe it or not, it would've completely destroyed your dad if anything happened while you two were still estranged," I say to her. I catch her rolling her eyes as I ready to make a left turn.
"I still don't want anything to do with him," she says, playing with my fingers in her lap. "He's the reason we broke up."
"I know, but we're both past grown now. No one can stand in our way now," I argue. "I think it would be kind of cool if Mr. Taylor could finally meet his grandson." Immediately, she drops my hand from her lap and turns cold. I nearly lose my grip of the steering wheel with the other hand. I quickly gather my composure and study her once we reach the next red light.
"That will never happen," she murmurs under her breath.
And in that moment, I decide to back off from the topic of her father. I completely understand why Taylor was so adamant about me not mentioning him to Sophie. This is much more serious than I thought.
"Why are you mentioning him all of a sudden?" she asks with a puzzled squint.
"I'm sorry – I didn't mean to harp on it," I say, quietly hoping that she doesn't prod me for additional details.
She can't know that her father came by to see her at the hospital, or paid for her super pricy lawyer…or had a hand in her landing her dream job.
….
Thankfully, our time over dinner was enough to erase the uncomfortable tension from earlier. I don't know what I was thinking playing my entire hand like that. The healing between Sophie and her father needs to happen organically.
"Thanks for dinner, as always," she beams after I sign the check.
"Of course. Although, I much rather taste your fabulous cooking over going out to eat," I tease.
"Well if you're lucky, I may cook for you tomorrow night," she says all too sweet. I smile wide at her. "I'll ask my mom to keep Ronan at her place for the night and have her bring him home Friday morning since that's my day off."
"You and Ronan have any big plans?" I ask. For some reason, she tenses up when I ask this. I wonder why every time I veer into the topic of her son, Sophie essentially freezes up on me.
"We're spending the day at the Children's Museum," she says eventually.
"That's fantastic. I used to love going there as a kid. He'll have a blast. Has he ever been?"
She nods. "It's one of his most favorite places to go. I think I have an aspiring scientist on my hands," she says wistfully. And I idly wonder once more why she's being so distant. We were having such a good time earlier – and I long to have that again, so I quickly change the subject.
"The Lion King's coming to the Opera House in a couple of weeks," I tell her.
She gasps. "I've heard. I love The Lion King."
I narrow my eyes at her with a sly grin and she narrows her eyes back at me.
"I know exactly what that means," she giggles.
"You know me all too well, Miss Taylor."
"Now I have to find something to wear to the Opera House," she beams, staring up at the ceiling.
"I'll take you shopping."
"Teddy," she says, now looking at me with scolding eyes. "You know you don't have to do that."
"But I want to. I enjoy spending time with you…even if it's just to shop," I respond.
She shakes her head in mere disbelief. "Men hate going shopping with women."
"Not me," I smirk.
"What planet do you come from, Ted Grey? I don't deserve such a guy," she breathes with a chuckle.
"Yeah you do," I wink at her. "Ready to go?"
She nods.
….
Sophie and I walk hand in hand crossing the parking lot. We're talking and laughing, and at one point she leans her head over against my shoulder mid-stroll. The Mexican restaurant is in the middle of a plaza along with a dozen other retail businesses. It's a pretty hopping area, so we had to park quite a distance away.
I offered to bring the car up to Sophie, but she insisted on walking along with me. And if I'm being completely honest with myself, I'm rather enjoying this time with her, holding her hand as we walk and talk together. It just feels like I'm really hers and she's really mine.
We're about a few yards away from the car when a couple looks at me and does a double take. The female looks to be especially taken aback. I suddenly feel Sophie's hand stiffening in mine. My mind's elsewhere, so it takes me a few beats to register that I am in the presence of Phoebe and Hanson.
Dammit – why am I always running into these two yahoos at the most inopportune times?
"Oh my God!" Phoebe squeals as if she just saw her teen idol live and in the flesh. But she's not screaming at me. Phoebe immediately runs up to Sophie, and Sophie lets go of my hand in order to meet her.
The two girls hug each other so hard and practically weep like two long lost friends who have finally reunited. It's an incredibly heartwarming moment to see. Meanwhile, Hanson and I awkwardly stand there and watch the two girls reconnect.
With her hands still on Sophie's arms, Phoebe leans back and examines her. "Oh my God – Sophie! You look amazing!"
"Phoebe," Sophie gasps in utter shock. "You're beautiful!"
"You too!" my sister gushes. I smirk at the two of them.
"Where did you…?" Phoebe starts, but then she stops herself and suddenly lets go of Sophie. She takes three steps back and searches both Sophie and I with a very critical eye. Suddenly, a scandalous grin takes over her face. "What's this?" she says, happily pointing back and forth between Sophie and me.
Just like two children with our hands caught in the cookie jar, both Sophie and I begin to act extremely bashful.
"We're just hanging out," I mumble. Phoebe knows right away that I'm completely full of shit.
"Does Mom and Dad know?" she says excitedly. When she catches our dejected expressions, her face instantly drops. "Oh."
"Yeah, we were keeping things sort of quiet – for now. There's unfortunately a negative history there," I say stone-faced.
"And I'm absolutely clueless about any of this," Hanson sighs.
"I'll fill you in later," Phoebe stage whispers to her boyfriend. Sophie and I chuckle.
"Sophie," I say to her at my side. "You've met Hanson before, right?"
She looks over at him and nods with a sweet smile. Suddenly, his eyes widen at the recollection. Yes, Larkin – you once had a crush on my sisters' babysitter, too. But I never fessed up to him that she belonged to me even back then. With me being in high school at the time, it was too forbidden to disclose such news – even to my best friend.
"So where did you guys just come from?" Phoebe asks the two of us.
"La Mesa Azul," Sophie replies.
"That's where we're headed," Hanson says.
"Cool," I add.
"So, how long has this um…been going on?" Phoebe inquires awkwardly.
"A little over six weeks?" I say with uncertainty as I look over to Sophie for confirmation. She smiles and nods. She's always been much better at remembering important dates and durations than me.
Phoebe can't take her eyes off of Sophie and I, but when she finally turns and catches the hangry expression on poor Hanson's face, she remembers herself. "Well, I won't keep you. And don't worry, your secret is most safe with me," she says with an excited grin as she gestures to zip up her mouth and lock it with an imaginary key.
"I appreciate it, lil' sis," I smirk.
"But understand that we need to have a double date soon. Discrete or not – I must see Sophie," Phoebe demands, but does so lovingly. Her eyes return to her long lost big sister whom she's missed terribly over the years.
"Absolutely," Sophie smiles wide. "It's mandatory."
"Fine," I sigh, exasperated with my sister. "We'll set something up."
"Yay!" Phoebe cheers. She jumps up and hugs Sophie once again. "Let's exchange numbers now!" she peps as she yanks her phone from her shoulder bag.
Gosh, Pheeb. I roll my eyes at her and Hanson laughs.
Thursday, March 20, 2036
Ana
Kate's been on the ball. She called Tuesday night informing me that one of her contacts wanted to meet with me at the Zig Zag Café early Thursday evening – which is finally here. Kate doesn't have to work at the station until eight, so thankfully she'll be able to join us.
Most importantly, I wanted to know how Kate's meeting with the lawyers went. She says that she wanted to wait before our meeting with her PI guy to tell me everything. So Kate and I arrive at the bar thirty minutes ahead of schedule.
Sitting at a small table with four chairs, the waitress promptly brings us our yummy strawberry mojitos and leaves us to it.
"So," Kate starts. "Tom signed the papers."
"Yes!" I say in celebration.
"And he brought his young Russian whore along to flaunt."
I quickly turn sour. "Are you kidding me? What an asshole," I scowl.
"Oh – and she's real pretty, too. Poor tramp. She's totally wasting her time with Tom's micro-penis."
I practically choke on my drink. She continues. "But I wasn't shaken by her presence at all; it was typical Tom. I didn't expect any less, but I'm just glad that it wasn't more. And most importantly, he finally signed the fucking papers," Kate beams as if she'd just won the lottery.
"But still," I frown. "Bringing his girlfriend to your divorce negotiation and signing was a total dick move."
"Well – That's So Tom. Anyway, we agreed that he would keep the house and get nothing else. I'd walk away and get nothing, which I already did four years ago. Today, the divorce is signed, sealed and delivered. The judge signed off on it first thing this morning," she beams.
"Thank God," I sigh in utter relief.
Kate is now totally free from this long ass sham of a marriage from a legal standpoint. But part of me wonders if she is emotionally free from it all. I know that she's over the moon with Elliot, but part of me is afraid that marriage has left a bitter taste in her mouth.
Elliot loves her without a doubt, and Kate absolutely loves him. But I wonder if he's eager to marry her, while she's not as willing to get married again. However, I put those lingering thoughts on hold and bask in the glory of Kate's newfound freedom. We toast to the glorious occasion and continue to drink up in hopes that our visitor who's on his way can help me solve a nagging puzzle.
Is Ronan actually my grandson?
Fifteen minutes later, Kate and I sit across the table from an older gentleman – about in his early sixties. Don Locke is short and husky in stature, donning a tan jacket, dad-jeans and a dark gray newsboy cap. While in the business for over four decades, Mr. Locke's past clients include the police department as well as a few notable award winning investigative journalists from all mediums – television, radio, and print. Hailing from Massachusetts, Locke is supposedly one the best in the business.
After Kate introduces us, I give him the entire rundown of why I've sought his help. I tell him about Shannon, Ronan and the whole bit from start to finish. At some point, I realize that I need to cut away and backtrack to explain the past relationship between Teddy and Sophie. Then I begin to connect the dots for him. Mr. Locke seems to be quite intrigued by my story.
"So you see – we may be in a bit of a time crunch. I need to know if this little boy belongs to my son before people start to grow more suspicious about me digging around, and decide to move the boy away," I tell him.
"Ma'am, have you thought about contacting the lady's daughter and asking her yourself?" the guy says in a heavy New England accent. And I know right away that Kate's 'source' isn't too bright. Did you not hear what I just said? She might move if I catch on!
"Or better yet," he continues. "Have you spoken to your boy? He would know if he boned her." I gape at him.
"Excuse me," Kate snaps. "That 'boy' is my nephew!" I'm amused that she's quick to snap his neck, when she was saying similar things about my son just two days ago.
"Look ladies – I'll do what I can, but I'll warn you that if your kid finds out about my investigation, he may be royally pissed," Locke grunts.
"So don't let him find out, then!" Kate bites. "Look, Charlie told me that you were the very best. If I'm barking up the wrong tree…"
"No, I'm your guy," he insists. "I'm just trying to prepare you for what may come. Look, I'll get my ears on the ground. If I need to interrogate anyone, I'll be sure to warn you first."
"Interrogate?" I gasp, eyes gaping widely at him.
"Yeah, I've worked as a specialist during Operation Desert Storm. I've been thoroughly trained in the art of 'extreme questioning'. You know – waterboarding…whatever it takes to get the job done."
"You've gotta be fucking kidding me," I sigh, throwing my hands up in surrender.
Kate has completely had it with this guy. "Look, we appreciate you coming out. We'll give you a call you if we need you. In the meantime, just lay back," she says, proudly wearing her infamous 'fuck off' expression.
"Are you certain?" he says, looking like he just may have fucked up a major job. "I can get started…"
"No – we're sure," I say all too quickly. "Thanks," I say, nervously extending a hand.
When the man is finally a safe distance away, Kate and I immediately crack up laughing.
"What the fuck, Kavanagh?" I squeal.
"I'm so sorry. I didn't know the guy would be such a nutcase," she sighs.
"So I take it that you don't have any better ideas," I say deadpan.
"What about Christian's guy?" she suggests.
"Oh no…I don't need Christian involved," I shake my head profusely.
"I said Christian's guy, not Christian," Kate reiterates.
"It's one in the same. Grey pays his guys so much that they are one hundred percent loyal to him. Telling Welch is like telling Christian himself."
"Fuck," she sighs.
I drop my head in my hand while my elbow is propped on the table.
So what next?
"Although I hate to admit it, Major Dumbass did make an excellent point." I raise my head and squint at Kate, befuddled. "You need to talk to Teddy."
I sigh.
"Ana, I'm serious. Talk to him in the morning. In fact, pencil him in after he's had his first cup of coffee. You'd be surprised what people will tell you after they've had their morning java."
I shake my head at my best friend. I don't believe her.
"Just ask close-ended questions, like – Son, did you fuck Sophie Taylor without a condom anytime during the months of August and September in the year 2031 – yes or no?"
"Kate!" I squeal, beyond flabbergasted.
"Well?" she says matter-of-factly.
"I'm not going to ask him that!" I say, irritated.
"Well, you really don't want to know the truth, then," she says point blank.
I sigh again. Honestly, I do want to know. In fact, not knowing is slowly killing me. I can't function during the day without Ronan being in the center of my thoughts. It may sound crazy, but I feel such a strong connection with him.
I love all of my children. They are my entire world. And when I look at Ronan, I see exactly the same thing I see when I look at my five kids.
I need to know if he's my grandson. I must know. I check the calendar on my phone and perk up once I realize something. "I have a meeting scheduled in my office first thing Friday morning…with Teddy," I say.
"Good. It'll give us ample time to come up with some good questions for him," Kate replies.
Thursday, March 20, 2036
Sophie
"Mommy – look!"
As I'm tidying up the kitchen after our pancake breakfast, Ronan sits nearby at the dinette table along with his little toolbox filled with pencils, crayons, and markers – all neatly organized in their unique, individual compartments. He holds up a page in his drawing flipbook that's done mostly in crayon.
"Oh my goodness, honey. That's a beautiful galaxy you drew," I say in sincere amazement.
"It's a brand new galaxy in our solar system," he explains.
"Oh really? What's it called?" I say, looking over my shoulder as I now load the dishwasher.
"The Ronan Taylor Galaxy," he says so proudly.
My little boy is such a wonder. He places his book back on the table and flips the page to start a new masterpiece on a blank sheet. His legs and feet are tucked under him as he sits in the chair appearing much taller than he really is. He's wearing one of my favorite pair of rugged little-man jeans along with his yellow Minions sweater and matching socks.
I smirk at him. "Just Ronan Taylor?"
"Yes – just like your name is Sophie Taylor, my name is Ronan Taylor," he says pointedly.
"Sweetie," I start, readying the wet cloth to wipe down the counters. "My last name is Taylor. Your middle name is Taylor."
"But can't we have the same last name? Just like the other kids have the same last name as their mommy?"
My heart skips a beat, but I hold it together in order to protect my son. I walk to his side for a moment and stand over his shoulder. "Now if you and I shared the same last name, your name would actually be Ronan Taylor Taylor. Now doesn't that sound silly?" I say, fluffing up his previously perfectly combed hair. I'll definitely have to comb it again when Mom gets here.
"No – that sounds really cool," he gasps in wonder. "Ronan Taylor Taylor. Ronan Taylor Taylor." He begins to chant it again and again quietly under his breath as he starts to draw – using a marker this time. I quickly get a thought in my head that nearly causes me to panic.
Even he knows his name's not right.
Starting many weeks ago, Ronan has been on a little tear over his friend from swim class – Ted's little brother. It nearly broke our hearts (my mother's and mine) to separate them. Those two little boys have done nothing to deserve being kept apart. Ronan likes to wear his Minions stuff even more these days because it was one of the things that he had in common with Topher.
But when my mind tries to go there, I immediately pull myself away before I fall right into the depths. If I don't keep a handle on things, I will utterly fall apart – just as I nearly did the night that Ted and I got into that fight.
I've come all this way. I can't be stupid.
Then I think that perhaps I'm too late for that. I've already fallen into something that's only going to get more and more complicated as time progresses. I continue to see Ted, even though I know that it's going to get very messy. But whenever I'm with him, I simply get caught up in the moment. I end up throwing all caution to the wind.
I don't want to lose whatever it is we have. Is there a way to finally be set free and still get to keep the love of my life? I've been searching for this answer for weeks…years, even. So far, I've only come up empty.
Pretty soon, my mother is opening up the door and entering the apartment.
"Hey guys," she calls out.
"Hey, Ma," I mutter.
"Granny!" Ronan squeals from the table.
"Ro-ro!" Shannon calls back to him as she walks over to him and kisses him on the forehead. "Are you ready to spend the night with me?"
"Yes! Can we watch all of the Minions movies today?" he says with blue puppy dog eyes. He is definitely hard to resist when he pulls out that little number from his mischievous bag of tricks. I laugh.
"Of course," my mother replies. "Why don't you go and get your things from your room and we'll get ready to go."
"Here – Granny, look at what I drew," he says, flipping back his work in progress to show his grandmother his recent work of art.
"Oh my word," she gasps. "Ronan…honey, that's beautiful."
"Thank you," he says, folding his book by the glossy cover to close it all the way. He hops on his feet and makes his way over to his room.
My mother looks over at me as I rinse the dishtowel in the sink. "So, what's going on with you this evening after work?" she asks.
"I think I'll relax for a bit," I say nonchalantly. "Tomorrow's the day Ronan's been most looking forward to. Oh, and remember…you'll have to drop us off at the dealership in the morning so I can pick up the new car," I remind her.
She nods but pushes on to something else. "Are you still seeing that business man you met at work?"
Oh, geez. Not this again.
Nope – I am not going there. I am not opening up a can of worms and telling her that I've been secretly dating Christian Grey's son. She will freak the hell out.
I give her an ever so slight nod before I busy myself with wiping around Ronan's things on the dinette table.
"Things getting rather serious between you and him?" she prods again.
I know exactly what she's doing. "Mom – give it a rest. I'm just hanging out with a great guy," I say in a sigh as I place down the cloth and begin to arrange all of Ronan's art supplies into one neat little pile.
I can tell by the temperature of the air in this room that she's not the least bit satisfied with my answer. "You've been seeing him for over a month now. Don't you think that he should at least meet someone in your family?" I can tell that as her eyes briefly scan my apartment, she's looking for the photographs that were once visible when I stayed with her. "Remember, you have your son to think about," she preaches to me for the hundredth time.
I suddenly snap. "I know," I say in extreme irritation.
She acquiesces. "Fine. Just be careful, okay? You know that I love you." Ronan comes running out, dragging his overnight bag behind him. "I love you both," my mother reiterates. She pats her grandson, my sweet little guy on his head before she turns to me with a bittersweet smile and holds out her arm. I fall into it and briefly hug her back.
"I know," I murmur, subdued.
….
An hour and a half later, I'm walking away from Ted's car and towards the hotel with the hugest smile on my face. Boy that man can kiss. I swear, his snogs serves as my fuel to get me through the most mundane of workdays.
Just before I reach the revolving door, I turn around and Ted is still parked. With dark tinted windows, it's hard to tell if he's even looking at me. Maybe he's checking a quick email on his phone before he sets off to work. But when the passenger window comes crawling down, I know for a fact that he was staring at me. He gives me the biggest smile that says I can't wait to see you tonight.
Tonight.
Yes, tonight – I'm going to make Ted a chicken with creamy wine sauce and angel hair pasta. He was very excited when I told him about it. It's something that he hasn't had for years that my stepmother used to cook for his family.
I'm kind of excited by the fact that Ted won't just be dropping me off after work tonight and driving away. However, I can't help but be slightly nervous about potentially having another night like the one we had before my accident. I just know that whatever there's left to tell will absolutely change everything.
I'm not quite ready to face that yet.
In the meantime, I promised myself that I'd simply enjoy his company. It's okay to tell him that I love him, because it's the truth. It's okay to kiss him. It's okay if kissing leads to other things. But for right now, I can't allow myself to fall apart. The guilt and shame that I continue to feel whenever I allow myself to feel it is enough to choke the very life from me.
The front office in the morning is quite hopping as many our corporate guests are checking out in droves in preparation of traveling back home in time to enjoy the weekend. There's a team of three working the front desk – two gentlemen and Stacey. I decide to pitch in.
My good friend Stacey, who I lived with while fighting for custody of Ronan, just started working here last week. She's technically a trainee, but that's pretty much a joke considering how long she's worked in the hotel industry. It only took her three days to learn the different systems and nuances that the Olympic has in comparison to the Marriott, and she took off running. I'm so glad that I was able to get her in here. She loves working here, and it shows.
When the rush finally comes to a halt early afternoon, one of the guys goes home and the other one takes a well-earned break, leaving Stacey and me alone at the counter. She approaches my end of the counter and leans my way.
"So, I saw the hot guy who dropped you off earlier when he rolled down his window," she smirks.
I blink, taken by surprise and not knowing what to say at first. I jump straight into defense mode. "It was just a ride," I say nervously. "I bought a new car with the cash from the accident the other day. I pick it up tomorrow."
I don't know why I'm still so nervous. I mean, Stacey knows who Ted is, but perhaps she'd forgotten all about him. He used to come up to the Marriott to see me all of the time. And why do I feel the need to still creep around with him in public? Phoebe now knows, for crying out loud.
"But if I were you, I'd keep taking that ride from Mr. Hottie," Stacey says – but I don't think that she's fully aware of the double entendre. "Is he yours – officially?" she asks with a hopeful grin.
I sigh but I'm unable to hide my contentment. With a crooked smirk, I nod.
"Yes," she quietly cheers on my behalf. And with that, I step away from my good friend and head right into the management office to check a few emails and return a couple of phone calls.
In the management office, I have a small desk off in one corner of the room. One among three others, it's nothing fancy – but it's mine. Right by the phone is a beautiful royal blue potted orchid that Ted had sent here the day I returned to work from my auto accident. And next to that is a photo of Ronan when he was just three. He's climbing up the ladder of a small slide at the park.
The photograph's rather odd since the viewer can only see the back of him. I've had a couple people question me about why I don't have traditional portraits of him instead. I tell them that I simply like how this photo captures my life as a mother and how I see my child as I'm watching him closely from the sidelines. The image is the true essence of what being a mom is about.
I feel that explanation works better than the one that goes – I'm extremely paranoid and don't want pictures of my kid's face sitting freely for just anyone to see it.
After fifteen minutes of calls and quick emails, I finally have a chance to update the digital manager's log for the afternoon. But suddenly, my phone starts to vibrate in my blazer pocket. Being a mom, any non-business related call at work might cause the nerves to startle a little.
When I finally grab hold of my phone and view the screen, I'm surprised to see Phoebe's name. I answer it.
"Hey Phoebe."
"Sophie!" she says cheerily. "I catch you at a bad time?"
"Not at all," I say. "I'm alone in an office at work. What's up?"
"You were on my mind. It was just so awesome seeing you yesterday," she says ardently. Her tenderness warms my heart.
"You too," I sincerely reply.
"I've missed you so much," she gushes. "When I saw you with Teddy, I was just thrilled. I've always hoped that you'd um…reconnect."
Her statement takes me by surprise. I had no idea that she even knew what was going on with us way back before I stopped babysitting her and her sisters. I was under the impression that their parents shielded their little girls from all of that.
"That's very sweet of you to say, Phoebe." It's all I can assemble at the moment in a reply. My feelings are all over the place – happy, anxious, nervous – but most of all, I'm overly cautious.
"I don't know if my brother ever told you about his evil ex-fiancée," she says with disdain dripping from her voice.
"Diana," I chuckle. "I've met her before."
"Really? Oh my God…she's such a b…ugh!" she groans out in frustration. I laugh. "Did Teddy tell you what she did to me and Hanson?"
"Yes, I heard. That was pretty bad," I understate with a sigh.
"My brother – bless his heart. Mom and Dad wanted to squash her like the conniving little spider that she is. But Teddy wasn't having it. She didn't deserve him back then when she had him, and she most certainly doesn't deserve his kindness and mercy after everything she's done. Teddy's way too forgiving for his own good."
Her words cause the pit of my stomach to bottom out.
Substitute Diana for me; would Phoebe feel the same if she knew everything?
I quickly flick away the thought.
"He deserves the very best, but I'm sure you know that," she says, now more upbeat.
"Absolutely," I breathe. And I can't help the feeling of dread that starts to spread from my stomach and up into my chest and throat. It's a suffocating feeling that I wish would dissolve. It doesn't.
"I've always known how my brother felt about you. I was happy when he finally opened up to me about you. I've always suspected that there was something going on between the two of you, but I was never quite sure until he told me," Phoebe says with a voice that sparkles straight through the phone. It touches me. "I'm just upset that I didn't know about you two reuniting until after my 21st birthday party. I would've loved to have seen you there," she vocally pouts.
"You do understand why we've been so discrete?" I say cautiously.
"Oh, absolutely," she replies insistently. "I knew that there was something different about Teddy recently. I must say…he's been much happier since you two started hanging out again. I'd even go as far as to say that he's the happiest he's ever been."
Phoebe's news renders me speechless. It's also true that Ted has done the same for me. Outside of my son who's everything to me, I didn't have much of a life. I've never had any hope for true love. After I lost Ted, I've discarded the very idea of having a soul mate…ever. He was it for me, and he was no longer in the picture.
You saw to that, Sophie.
"You and Teddy are both adults, so screw anyone who doesn't like it that you're together. Just know that I am one hundred percent pro-Steddy," Phoebe quips. Steddy? I blurt out a laugh and she giggles. "It was either that or Tophie…but that sounds entirely too much like Topher – and my little brother wouldn't take too kindly sharing a similar sounding name with my favorite new 'ship."
Phoebe Grey is a riot. She has always been one of my favorite people. I'm so happy to have reconnected with her. I just hope that she doesn't regret reconnecting with me later. The last thing I want is for her current fondness of me to change into abhorrence.
….
When Ted arrives to pick me up from work, he's apparently changed out of his Friday business casual gear from this morning and into a Seahawks tee and jeans. And even though he looks scrumptious, I'm a little out of sorts.
My mind has been all over the place since hanging up with Phoebe earlier. Now there's someone who knows about Ted and I, and that someone is rooting for us. There's this uncomfortable amount of pressure that's radiating. I'm expected to meet certain expectations now. It's frightening – especially when you know that you could possibly be worse than the girl he had before.
It's terrifying.
Ted leans over to kiss me after I shut the car door and then studies me.
"What's wrong? Did everything go okay at work today?" he asks with a deep fold between his brows.
"Yeah – it was good," I say, trying my best to disguise this lingering dulling feeling in my gut.
He narrows his eyes. "I don't believe you."
I smile a bit. "Ted, it's fine. Honest."
"You promise?" I nod in high assurance. "Okay," he says with a smirk, still rather skeptical. He then starts to drive and gets a sudden thought. "Hey, you remember that time I gave you that bottle of half-used perfume when I was eight…for your birthday?"
I crack up laughing at the memory. "Yes. I was over to my dad's for a weekend visit."
"I was so fucking excited to finally give that to you," he chuckles. "I had no clue when you'd be back on the property. So when you finally came, I was ecstatic." His memory affixes a permanent smile on my face.
"I put it on the very next day," I giggle.
Ted is trying hard to maintain composure behind the wheel, but is losing the battle, as he is nearly breathless from laughing. "When Pheeb and I were blowing bubbles with you out in the meadow, she kept saying that someone smelled just like our Grandma Grace."
My stomach practically hurts from guffawing. "I can't believe you swiped that bottle of perfume from you grandmother to give to me."
He briefly turns to me as he drives and says, "Love makes you do stupid things, Miss Taylor."
His words stop me cold in my tracks.
You've done a lot of stupid things too, Sophie – in the name of love.
I try to push away the sour feeling, but it continues to drift inside of me all the way home.
….
When Ted and I arrive in my apartment, I briefly excuse myself while he's on a work call in order to change into sweat pants and a gently used UW t-shirt. When I resurface, I get a jump on dinner and Ted's eager to help the second he ends his call.
Not quite two hours later, we're stuffed and slouching together on the living room sofa. Both he and I are barefoot and beyond comfortable as Ted points the remote to the television, bringing up the streaming channel. Neither he nor I can agree on what to watch. Completely in relaxation mode, I lean into him and place my head against his chest. He kisses my hair and moans. Soon, the remote is tossed aside.
"We're only kidding ourselves. Netflix and Chill – is that still a thing?" he jokes.
I laugh but I quickly turn serious once our eyes meet. Thirty seconds of staring feels like a lifetime. I'm falling in love with him all over again. Without any rationalization whatsoever, I kiss him. I can tell that my action takes him by surprise, but he finally gives in and blends into the moment, letting it consume him.
We're more heated than the time before. Three minutes later, without even asking, he picks me up in his strong arms and carries me over to my bedroom. I'm burning with a severe yearning and desire for him, so when he tosses me onto the bed like a rag doll, I'm like a siren unleashed.
Ted crawls on top of me and we kiss like mad people. I'm tugging at his shirt as he slides his lips down to devour my neck. I moan, relishing in his touch and the eagerness of his beautiful mouth. He's soon helping me out of my t-shirt, and my sweatpants follow afterwards. Once he masterfully slips his t-shirt over his head, my mouth salivates over his perfectly chiseled upper torso.
He's back on top of me, skin against skin as his arms wrap around me and reach the fasteners of my bra strap. Soon, it's loose and he slides it over and off of my arms until I'm completely naked, except for my panties.
He begins to caress my entire body as if it's to be cherished.
I've never felt so loved.
So wanted.
"I love you," he murmurs, and every nerve ending in my body ignites. I'm floating on a cloud that's far beyond reach of the ground. It's both altogether liberating and entirely too dangerous at the same time.
"Teddy," I moan.
As my mouth and tongue entangle with his, my hands smooth up and down the soft and rugged skin of his back. Just the feel of him gives me chills. When his face lowers and his mouth quickly claims one of my breasts, my body bows from the bed. I didn't know that my body ached so much for him. I never knew that I had such an unquenchable thirst for everything that he has for me. No matter what he gives and how much of it he gives, I always want more.
My hands move from the outside of him to the inside. They glide down his sides until I reach the fastener of his jeans. While taking my other breast into his mouth, his hands echo mines and reach for my lacy red panties. Soon, one hand breaches and touches me directly there. I groan.
"I can feel you, Angel. You're so wet," he exhales, his blue eyes gazing up at me in extraordinary awe.
And I can feel him, too. He's rock solid for me right through his jeans. Greedy for him, I frantically pull the fastener apart. I am panting so hard as his fingers continue to caress the outer layer of my sex. At the same time, I unzip his jeans and tug his boxers down. My hand slides into them and reach his glorious erection. I groan in desperate anticipation, and so does he.
As I begin to stroke him with my fist inside of his jeans, he inserts a finger inside of me. "Ah," I gasp. He slides up and sticks his tongue inside of my ear, sending me into a daze.
He and I eventually fall into a rhythm all our own as his mouth returns to mine – moaning and groaning together at the intense contact. His fit, taut stomach ebbs and flows against my arm as I jerk his cock up and down. I groove with him as he touches me. Then one finger suddenly turns into two, setting me ablaze.
"Jesus, Soph…" he gasps. "I want you so fucking bad."
I moan. "Me too."
He kisses me hard and I know immediately that this is it. We're finally going to do this. He lifts away from me to tug his jeans and boxers completely off before sliding off my panties, leaving the two of us completely naked and panting something fierce. He presses his warm bare body against mine – his erection pulsating against my inner thigh, teasing me – as his mouth takes mine once again.
Soon, his lips surpass ravenous as he brings them back down to my breasts, savoring each one. I am beyond the point of surrender. I'm at his total mercy – loving him; cherishing him.
Just being here with him like this, it feels like I'm finally home. Not realizing it until now, I was truly a vagabond for all those years. I completely forgot what this felt like until now. A few beats later, Ted's mouth is covering my sex. I am wild and he is relentless. I'm grasping his mane of hair with both hands as my thighs rise up with his shoulders. He's hungry, so he simply takes all he can while I'm reaching the point of falling.
"Ah – I'm gunna come," I cry out.
He moans but doesn't stop what he's doing, pushing me to the max. And I scream –my entire body shaking. Fuck, I haven't felt this in a very long time, since…him.
He's then back up and my mouth meets his. I taste both him and me, and it's oddly refreshing. It doesn't take long for me to return back to earth, and I'm quickly yearning for more of what he has for me.
Ted reaches for a condom that he apparently placed on standby when he removed his jeans. Just before he rips it open, I quickly snatch it away. He gazes at me with narrow and confused, but hungry eyes.
"I'm clean and on the pill," I rasp. "I want you to come inside of me."
Ted's eyes grow large before he nods his approval and slides back onto me. I toss the condom to the floor as he brings my legs, up…up…up… The front of my thighs are firmly pressed against my breasts just before he slides into me and stills.
"Oh!" I moan.
"Oh, fuck – you feel so fucking good, Angel," he growls.
I moan again and he starts to move in me at a steady pace. It doesn't take long for us to get eager. I want more, then he wants more. It's a sensual tit for tat game that I hope he and I will get to play all night long.
After all these years, and after all of the tears, we finally find ourselves back in each other's tight embrace. It's so liberating and frightening all at once. I push for more and he gives me exactly what I want. And at the same time, I pray that I'm giving him just what he needs.
"Sophie…baby…"
"Teddy, please. More."
Soon, my entire bed is essentially lifting from the ground with the speed and force that he's giving me. I can barely make a sound because we are moving entirely too fast. Before we know it, I'm clinching all around him and bursting forth yet again.
"Ahhh…" I cry out in the most colossal orgasm that I've ever had. His groaning gets louder until he finally releases violently inside of me. I'm drenched in our combined sweat, and so is he.
He pulls out and tugs me into his arms, kissing me all over my face and mouth. "That was…" He has no words and neither do I. I simply smile and nod in agreement.
"Can you believe how long we've been away from each other?" he says in utter disbelief.
"No, I can't," I breathe.
"We belong together," he declares.
"I know," I answer back.
He kisses me once more and we hold each other for what seems to be an hour.
….
I glance over at the clock on my nightstand. It's 11:30. Ted and I don't appear to be anywhere close to sleeping. Soon, we're kissing all over again; our hands are re-exploring one another. The spark re-ignites and then he's back on top of me.
Not before long, we are making sweet, slow love. I'm slowly going out of my mind as Teddy stares deep into my eyes in my dimly lit room, and telling me repeatedly with his body and with his words how much he truly loves me.
Then something happens on the inside. I begin having ominous thoughts that show up out of nowhere.
Phoebe, protecting her brother –
"Teddy deserves the very best, but I'm sure you know that."
Are you giving him your best, Sophie? No, you're not.
The thickness of guilt begins to ooze like a thick sludge down my chest.
Aiden and his sacrifice –
"You don't have to do this," I plead.
"I know, but I want to," he answered.
"I'm going to treat this child like he's my very own.
No one will ever know the difference. "
He was all too eager to do it because of his shitty upbringing in Nevada with present-but-absent parents. He promised himself that he'd never be like them. He thought that if he had a child that he could call his own, it'd be just enough to help him kick the habit for good. But it only got worse.
Oh no.
And then, there were all of the lies I told.
Lies that I thought I absolutely had to tell.
"But I want you!" Teddy cries out over the phone.
"Sophie…why are you doing this?!"
"Teddy, stop it – please. I'm so sorry that it has taken me this long to explain everything to you. Look, I thought I had feelings for you.
Now, I'm with someone my own age."
It was all a lie.
Age was never a factor for me. I never saw age with him. My heart wouldn't let me see anything but him. But I knew that if I stayed, he would be where I once was – struggling to find himself without the blessing or security of his strong family unit. I just new he'd eventually come to despise me for placing a wedge between him and his father. I couldn't bring myself to let him be cloaked in dishonor and shame.
"He has everything to lose, Sophie," my father growled.
So I placed myself on the sacrificial block – for him…and for my father.
But in the end, I wound up sacrificing so much more.
I see that now so clearly.
My God…what if I died in that car accident? What if I died and Ted never learned that he was our son's true father. I'd be wiped away from this earth and Ronan would go on to live with a family that's not really his.
I begin to have a full-on panic attack. Tears immediately flood my eyes. Right away Ted pulls out of me and starts to cradle me like a child.
"Angel, no. Please…don't cry," he coos. But my heart begins to shatter over and over again.
I can't help it. The dam has finally breached.
"Baby, talk to me," he pleads through my uncontrollable sobs.
As soon as I can muster up the faculties to form a sentence of any kind, I gasp out, "I…I've never stopped loving you."
"I know, baby. I know," he says, smoothing down my hair.
"No, you don't understand," I choke up. "I've kept something from you."
His eyes zoom into me more, but he doesn't stop petting my hair and giving me comfort. "But you've already said it. You've told me everything."
"No… I…"
"Sophie, it's okay. Just let me love you. Whatever it is, our love will fix it, okay. We don't have to run anymore," he says with the utmost assurance.
But if he knew what I knew, would he still be this sure?
I can't do this anymore. I need to tell him. I've already fallen for him again. There's no way I can turn back after arriving back here with him. It's all or… I can't even say it. I can't even stomach the alternative. But reality tells me that even the strongest man in the world wouldn't be able to endure what I'm on the brink of exposing.
Fuck – fuck – fuck.
I cry even more and he starts to rock me, humming sweetly in my ear. "I love you, Sophie Taylor," he sings in a whisper, and I feel like the lowest scum of the earth. Suddenly, my initial good intentions don't mean jack shit. It's all evaporated into a puddle of nothing, and I no longer have a single leg to stand on.
"H…have you?" I stammer through the tears.
"Hmm? Have I what, sweetheart? It's okay…I'm here. Tell me what's wrong," he hums in the most reassuring voice. And I'm feeling more and more like the shittiest person on earth for such a beautiful and loving man to yearn to bring me comfort. I'm the last person on earth who deserves it.
Who will give him comfort after I tell him everything? I can assure you that he won't want comfort coming from the source of his pain.
"Have you ever wondered why I've never shown you any photos of Ronan?" I finally spit out. His expression transitions from comforting to puzzled. I have no idea what's going through his mind right now. "Have you ever wondered why I haven't introduced you to my son?" I add with a shaky voice.
His face moves from confused to shock. "Sophie…" he whispers. "What are you saying?" I can see the wheels churning in his head but once more, I don't know exactly what he's thinking.
I know that I only need to tell him one thing. Ted is a brilliant man. Just expose this one thing and he'll derive at the conclusion all by himself. He won't believe it any other way.
"Ronan's birthday is May 31st. I had him a week late," I gasp out.
He's quiet once more as his thoughts continue to have him arrested. It's then when I know that he's calculating the math in his head. Finally, his eyes grow extremely wide.
"The middle of August," he says, dumbstruck.
I nod and my face floods with tears.
And even through the tears, I can see it clearly on his face. He's thinking back to that afternoon when he and I made love in a room at Marriott where I worked – just before he returned to Stanford. Suddenly, Ted turns cold before pulling away from me entirely and rolling out of bed.
All of the air rushes out of me.
A/N: So we're finally here. No clue how our girl's going to get herself out this colossal mess she's made. :(
In the next chapter – Ted absolutely loses his shit, and rightfully so. Thankfully his mother so happened to call a meeting with him the very next morning at work. Ana has no idea what's about to hit her.
Later, Sophie has a heavy talk with her little boy just before the nurse sticks him with the scary needle. He'll most certainly be overwhelmed by all of the major changes that are coming his way.
For those who have left me encouraging words and have stuck with this story, I appreciate it more than you know. Thanks for reading! – ST2