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“Like sick, hospital sick? Or sick, soup and crackers sick? Because I thought someone died just a moment ago. Or that you were going to kill someone. I’m not really sure.” The corners of his lips quirked up and Sophie’s heart thudded in a different direction. Not one she was emotionally up for feeling right then.

  Sophie knew she’d overreacted. Though, at the moment it wasn’t an overreaction to her. Not until you’ve lain on a bacteria-riddled tile floor, hugging a toilet because you’re too weak to get up after nearly cracking a rib from convulsing. Sometimes overreaction was the only reaction. So, considering what she knew from firsthand experience and why the girls were in the group, it wasn’t a far reach to assume puking meant purging. “Soup and crackers,” she said. “Don’t worry about it.”

  Ryan pressed his lips together and nodded. Sophie knew he was probably thinking she’d lost it. But he didn’t say anything like that to her, so it wasn’t fair of her to assume. And he wouldn’t say anything because he was the nice guy. Though, not nice enough to sign the card his office sent her when she won an award this past spring for her piece on senior citizens and orphaned dogs.

  Still, he was nice enough to walk with her, even though she was still wet and people stared. But now she needed some space. The more she dwelled on Deidra and the café, as well as a hundred other potential problems, the sicker she felt.

  They walked the rest of the way to the Ducati in silence. But not the kind of quietness where you’re wondering what the other person is thinking. It was where the other person is diagnosing everything about you. Coming here with Ryan was a mistake. The scavenger hunt was a mistake . . . and it irritated Sophie to no end that she thought she had a chance to win.

  “Are you mad at me?” Ryan asked, unlocking the Ducati.

  “No. I’m drenched.” And quite humiliated.

  “You want a cab?”

  “I want to get back to the ship and take a nap.” Actually, she wanted to check her email. Typical response time for locally sponsored grants ranged in the forty-eight-to-seventy-two-hour mark. It had been several days.

  Ryan didn’t respond. He walked up to one of the waiting cabs and said something in Spanish, then slipped the cabby ten bucks.

  “What was that?”

  Ryan grinned sweetly and for some reason that caused bile to seep up.

  “I just arranged a comfortable ride back to the ship. You don’t want to ride back on this. You’ll chafe for days.”

  Okay. Way too nice! What was she missing? “I can pay for my own ride back.” She reached in her pocket and found it empty. She stifled a groan. Her money was fish food at the moment. “Never mind. I lost my cash.”

  “Don’t worry about it. It’s not a big deal, Sapphire. I’m just trying to be nice.”

  There! He’d said it. Oh, God I’m going to be sick. “Thanks.” Sophie ducked around him so he didn’t feel like he had to hold the door for her or hug her goodbye.

  Her attempt at not letting him touch her failed. His warm hand pressed into her shoulder anyway. And as much as she wanted to give in and give up, she couldn’t. But she waved the white flag anyway. He was the handsome hero all over again.

  “Sophie, are you all right?” His steady voice was calming, but at the same time stirred something in her stomach that she’d long thought she’d defeated.

  One trick she’d picked up from years of the mean girls walking all over her was to keep her head high and never let them have the satisfaction. “Thank you for the cab ride. I’ll pay you back at the event tonight, okay?”

  Ryan opened his mouth to say something but Sophie didn’t let him. She didn’t want him to say anything else. It’d been a long day, and after spending all this time with her ex, who’d managed to strum her heart like a runaway roller coaster, this was more than she could handle right now. “I had a lovely afternoon. I mean kind of crazy that I fell in the water, but you know . . . accidents happen. So, if you’ll excuse me, I don’t want to keep this guy waiting. Have a good day.”

  She gently closed the car door, its audible click reverberating in her head, and left Ryan with his incredibly sad Caribbean eyes staring blankly back at her. This was the right thing to do. She didn’t want him to have to go over and beyond his call of duty. He was here for training, not to mend any hurt that she was so over she didn’t even consider it a “thing” anymore.

  That thought squeezed her gut until she was certain the bile was going to surface. Her smile felt so tight it didn’t come close to meeting her eyes, but that was okay. She smiled right through the pain and squeezed her eyes until a single tear traced her cheek and landed on her clenched fist.

  As the cab pulled away, Sophie slowly opened her eyes. She’d conquer this . . . just like every other challenge in her life. She’d go back to the ship, check her email for good news and regroup. And though the scavenger hunt today proved unsuccessful, it wasn’t over. She’d figure out the next logical step and charge forward. Just like always.

  She could do this. But when Sophie saw Ryan’s reflection in the rear-view mirror, his grave expression took her back to the night in the bed of his truck. That same look promised her the world. Before page seventy-four. Her mouth went instantly drier than the Sahara. Her heart pounded faster than ten galloping horses. She gripped her gnawing stomach as if it was about to claw out of her skin.

  Sophie recognized this. If she were honest, she’d tell herself she was no more recovered from bulimia than any other functioning addict. She’d only managed to white-knuckle it long enough until the right trigger found its mark. The horrifying cocktail mixing all-things-Ryan with losing the café and letting so many people down sent her spiraling.

  If Ryan with his nice eyes wasn’t the smoking gun, he’d certainly pulled the trigger.

  ~ ~ ~

  Four months after Sophie had given herself to Ryan, someone anonymously mailed her a copy of Sports Now, page seventy-four dog-eared.

  Ryan’s magazine. He had taken that coveted job at Sports Now in San Antonio, and she was finishing college, making up the work she missed when she took a leave of absence at the end of her senior year.

  Did he send the magazine and leave a hidden message? Was he trying to apologize? Because, you know, that’s what nice guys did. And she was ready to apologize for essentially shutting him out. She did owe him a huge explanation.

  Hadn’t they talked about a future together? The memory of those best-laid plans kept her wound quite tightly. In all the good ways, of course. Maybe he’d just needed a break—some time to get situated at his new job. And he had to know she didn’t want to actually break up. She just had a lot going on, too.

  Turning to the folded page, she didn’t find an apology. In fact, what she read in that article was an apology’s direct enemy. It was gossip. Worse, it was her gossip. It was her story.

  Larger Assets, Lesser Access—How Women in Sports View Themselves.

  He didn’t even bother to change her name. He’d written about her, adding sensitive details relating to woman in sports. The article highlighted how the industry wasn’t fair to woman. Especially women who ate too much. And there it was. In black and white. Her name. How he felt about her eating. And how she scampered away behind food.

  Even now, the food in her stomach felt like a belly bomb ready to explode. It didn’t surprise her that she wanted to rid her body of this bomb. No, what surprised her was how quickly she eased that discomfort by gaining control. It was numbing and comforting and exhilarating. The pain stopped hurting so much when she learned how to gain control. By sticking her finger down her throat.

  So the nice guy wasn’t so nice.

  Had she always been just a story?

  Chapter 15

  Ryan watched the cab until it was out of sight. He shoved his hands in his pockets and mounted the Ducati. He couldn’t put his finger on it, bu
t something was definitely off with Sophie.

  She seemed a little embarrassed to have fallen in the water, which couldn’t have been more than fifty-five degrees, poor girl, and then the call from work had really upset her. Yet, she shook it off and said it was fine. But he’d missed it.

  Again.

  Had it really been nearly a decade since he’d last missed it. Not even sure what it was, but it had been the beginning of the end for them. For what he’d had hoped would have been so much more. That was, until he screwed up and threw it all away.

  Ryan kicked the starter and revved the engine. He needed this forty-five-minute ride back to the boat. He only hoped Sophie was okay too.

  A few months after Ryan had taken Sophie to his frat party, they’d curled up together on a nest of blankets in the bed of his Ford truck to watch for shooting stars. He pointed out a number of stars by name.

  “You see that one?” He wrapped her up and pointed to the Big Dipper.

  “Yeah.”

  She smelled so good. He was falling for her, and he was pretty sure she was already in love. Something he’d never really understood. Love wasn’t an emotion he’d seen much growing up. But Sophie wasn’t the kind of girl to hide hers. She pretty much wore her emotions on her sleeve. He liked that.

  “Did you know it’s not a constellation? It’s a group of stars that will eventually face the opposite direction.”

  “Really?” Sophie said. He was shocked she was enamored with astrology. None of the girls he’d dated before cared.

  “Yes. In about 50,000 years, give or take a few.” He kissed her temple. He knew each constellation’s unique history and every formation by heart. He could even recite the history of how they earned their names. This was useless information he’d retained since childhood. But tonight, he loved how this bit of knowledge served him well. She was eating it up, so he’d enjoy dishing it out.

  “Hmm.” Sophie’s burrowed deeper into him. She fit perfectly next to him. “That’s so fascinating. How do you know all this?”

  “My dad. We spent summer nights stargazing.” A dormant flame ignited in the pit of Ryan’s stomach. “It was our thing before . . . well, before he changed.”

  “Changed?” Sophie’s soft hands toyed with the buttons on his shirt, eliciting an expected response from his lower half. He didn’t want to assume she was ready to sleep with him. He knew she was a virgin, but her touch felt nice. He stroked the back of her hand with his fingertips.

  “Um, yeah. We don’t talk anymore. My dad and I don’t exactly see eye-to-eye on anything.” That was the first time Ryan mentioned his dad to any girl. And though he sensed an easiness with her, he hoped she didn’t probe. His mom was a much safer subject, but he generally avoided talking about his parents at all. He’d never forgive his dad anyway, so why rehash all the reasons his dad was a prick?

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Sophie said, a hint of sadness in her voice.

  Time to change the subject. He pointed to another constellation. “You see that one?”

  “Which one?”

  Ryan pulled her closer so their cheeks touched. He held up her hand and aligned her vision with his. She smelled sweet, his mouth watered and his body ached. “That one. Follow the Big Dipper’s handle about forty-five degrees south and then look really hard. You can only see this one on a clear night during fall equinox.” Sophie squeezed in so close he thought she was going to crawl on him, which he wouldn’t have minded, but if she did his brain would probably go numb and do something they’d both regret. She wasn’t like any of the other girls he’d been with. She was different. More fragile. He refused to push her into anything she wasn’t ready for.

  Sophie’s breathing slowed and then stopped. “I see it,” she said enthusiastically. “What is it?”

  His fingers drew her face to his. “It’s yours.”

  “Mine?” Her eyes danced. The two shades of green mixed with a speck of blue locked on his and he thought how easily he could get lost in them. “What do you mean?”

  Her breath was sweet too. He breathed her in and it took everything he had to refrain from kissing her right then. “I have something for you.”

  She tensed as a hint of hesitation washed over her. Did he scare her? Something about her screamed that she was a kicked puppy, and every time they were together, he was careful not to spook her. “What’s wrong?”

  She shook her head. “Nothing. I-I thought we were looking at stars tonight, and it’s not my birthday or anything.”

  “Does it have to be your birthday for me to give you something?”

  The corner of Sophie’s lip quirked up and he felt her relax. “No.”

  “Good. But you do have a birthday coming.”

  Her smile widened. “It seems to be an annual occurrence.”

  Ryan tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear. “I can wait if you want. Give it to you on your actual birthday.”

  Sophie bit her lip and a thrill shot down Ryan’s back. He loved when she did that. It was usually followed by a kiss. But she rolled her eyes instead. Oh well. “Um, I don’t want to be rude or anything. I mean you brought it, so . . .”

  He tapped her nose with his finger. “That’s what I thought.” Taking the time to stroke her cheek, he placed gentle kisses around her face. “Here.” He reached beneath the blankets under her head and retrieved a sheet of paper.

  She took the paper and lifted herself onto one elbow, reading it beneath the glow of the crescent moon. It was a certified document with her name and the location of the constellation and a star, which he named after her: Sophie’s Sapphire.

  “It means wisdom. Your name, that is.”

  “You named a star after me,” she whispered.

  “Yeah. That one.” He pointed to it again.

  “You got me a star that can be seen by the naked eye.”

  “I didn’t realize your eyes were naked,” he said, brows raised.

  She hit him. “Such a guy.”

  He smiled.

  Sophie blushed still looking at the piece of paper. “I didn’t mean to fall so hard, but you’re kind of perfect. Which sort of scares me.”

  “Why?”

  She squeezed her eyes. Throwing off the blanket, she revealed a creamy patch of skin. “Because of this.”

  “What?” He shrugged. “You have a belly button ring I’m not aware of?”

  She giggled, pulling the blanket up to her chin. “No.”

  “A tattoo? Is it lame? Do you have your ex boyfriend’s name stamped there and you’re afraid to show me? It’s okay, I have six girl names on my back.”

  Sophie’s eyes went wide.

  “Just kidding. Only three.” Ryan laughed and then covered her hand with his. He knew she was referring to the fact she wasn’t pencil thin. The ultimate girl hang up. “I don’t care, Sophie. You’re beautiful.”

  “I just have a little . . . extra. In comparison to Leggy Blonde.”

  “Who?”

  She sunk in the blankets. “Never mind.”

  She was referring to the girls from his past. But that was just it, they were in his past. A past when he was still pissed at his dad for being a mean drunk and was trying to numb the pain with girls. It didn’t work. He wanted something more than a fling. He wanted to be with a girl with substance, who he could have a conversation with and buy a star for because she was interested in him. All of him.

  He softly stroked her back, drawing her into him. She surprised him when she kissed him. The kiss lingered, and he savored every moment. She made a small sound, and he backed off, only to feel her press deeper. He took that as permission.

  Slowly, he reached up the back of her blouse and unhooked her bra.

  “I’ve never—” she started.

  “I know,�
�� he said softly, not breaking the kiss. “We don’t have to.”

  “No, it’s okay. I love you. Don’t leave.”

  Where would he go? “I’m right here,” he assured. And if she were willing, he’d give her everything that she felt she was missing. He’d show her how he wouldn’t leave. Not now. Not ever.

  They’d made love. And it was amazing. Well, a little awkward, as expected for the first time, but really good, too. He knew it’d only get better. She rested against his chest, he stroked her arm, goose bumps shivering beneath his touch. The only sound was the restlessness of the trees and each other’s beating heart.

  Sophie had been quiet a long time. He didn’t want to interrupt her thoughts, but desperately needed to know about her. He wanted to know everything. For someone who talked a lot about her grandmother, he didn’t know anything about her parents. It was a good place to start. “Hey, Sophie?”

  “Hmm?” Her naked flesh rested perfectly against him. He kissed the top of her head. “Tell me about your parents.”

  Sophie’s entire body flinched. It was like he’d hit an exposed nerve. He didn’t like talking about his family, and with a reaction like that, he bet she never talked about hers either.

  He gently squeezed her arm. “You okay?”

  Her breath hitched, and Ryan knew immediately something was wrong. She wasn’t facing him but when she opened her mouth, he could hear the tears in her eyes. “I . . . um, don’t remember much.”

  That was a lie but maybe her lying about it was easier than reliving it. “You don’t have to tell me, I’m sorry I asked.”

  Sophie wiped her face with the blanket. “No, it’s okay. I can.”

  “Don’t force it, I was just curious.”

  Sophie dragged in the deepest, most unsteady breath he’d ever heard her take. “Mom was beautiful. She read Jane Austen to me every night and took me to the ballet in the City every year on my birthday. We’d dress up in formal gowns we bought at the Goodwill and have our nails done. Dad worked a lot. I didn’t see him much, but he loved us. He’d send me flowers from wherever he traveled. He was in telecommunications.”