Chapter 208

Arrick’s POV

~ Sophie, Natasha, and porn ~

There’s a choice of things Sophie normally orders from the menu, all her must have’s, from her favorite
Chinese. Food has always been the way to her heart, and I am pulling out the stops after my flowers
nose-dived, literally, out her bedroom window.

She knows how to make me suffer and I hate fighting with her.

She’s sitting herself at the table, eyeing up the familiar containers and I hold my breath for a moment.
Watching her, a smile spreading across my face as I see her expression soften a little. That pretty little
dainty face, dimples appearing as she stifles a smile and ends up smirking subtly. I think it’s working.
My sassy little hellcat looks less ferocious and maybe I can relax a little if she simmers a bit.

Dark hair and dark looks, glancing up from across the table and I try not to watch her too intensely as
she starts eating her food. I miss her natural blonde, but this is growing on me. She could pull any hair
color off, she has a face that could even pull off a shaved head.

“Still pissed at me?” I nudge her foot under the table with mine in a bid to get a response from her. If
she pushes back playfully then I’ll know she isn’t still as mad, and we are starting to get past her all-day
sulk. I can’t help smiling at her little pouted glare, the little sigh as she tries to convey that I am not
getting to her, and how she tries to keep her eyes on her food to ignore me. She can only hide so much
from me and I know the food has softened her enough to be open to a little forgiveness. Knowing her
so well has its perks; I can win her around with effort, and sometimes by pulling out all my Sophie tricks
in my massive arsenal.

“Maybe.” She answers flatly, mood still simmering but she doesn’t react to my foot shove and I sigh too.
She can be hard to crack when she’s hurt, and I guess kissing her then brushing it off is more than



enough to be upset over. If it were the other way around, I guess I would be more than mad, I would be
crushed, so I get why she’s ignoring me. I just can’t tell her that all I’ve thought about since, is kissing
her again. She doesn’t need to know that all I do nowadays is try to figure out what the hell to do when
it comes to her. If anything, she messes me up in the head more when I’m with her nowadays than
when we were apart, and I can’t ever seem to catch a break from the constant emotional turmoil.

I watch her for a moment, tucking into her food with that little tiny frown on her brow, the little turn up of
her top lip as she pouts and sulks and its distracting. I funnel my own food into my own mouth in a bid
to try and ignore how much this is getting to me. Push down the knot of anxiety and heaviness. Sulky
Sophie always makes me anxious, nervy, and tonight I seem to be hypersensitive to her. I guess it
doesn’t help that all I see when I look at her now is that mouth and how good kissing her felt last night.
My head already having a hard time over my feelings and kissing her has sent me into overdrive. I’ve
kissed a lot of girls in my lifetime and none come close to what she made me feel. It was more than the
actual kiss, her technique, her mouth. It was the entire experience, it blew me away, and all it has done
is left me even more screwed up in how I feel about her. I seriously need to stop this shit.

We’re interrupted by the buzzer and I check my watch, confused at who would be showing up this late
in the evening without a heads up. Most of my friends know I was going to be travelling back from
home today, so wouldn’t show up without calling me first. They know I like my down time.

I catch Sophie’s eyes flicker to me as I slide up and head across the floor to the intercom panel by the
elevator. Annoyed that we have an intruder, just when I am starting to try and fix this mess with her. I let
her sulk all day to get the worst out of her system and now, when I am pulling out my arsenal of Sophie
softening, someone shows up to fuck with my plans.

“Hey, who is it?” I mumble into the intercom, hoping it’s a delivery, or someone who won’t be sticking
around. I really need to get things back on track with Sophs and now she is mulling rather than raging, I
can finally talk to her properly. You need to let her be sometimes, or it’s like talking to a brick wall and
she only throws verbal knives at you. Sophs needs finessing and special handling.



“It’s Natasha. I came for some things, and maybe a chat.” The gentle tone is the last thing I want to be
hearing right now, like a sucker punch to the gut, and I glance across at Sophie’s back nervously, in two
minds about what to do. They don’t get on at the best of times and that was before all of this. I really
need to fix shit here before I add Tasha to this equation, but as I still have her hanging on in my life
without a clue what to do with her either, then I’m fucked.

Shit

“Sure.” I answer and press the buzzer, knowing I have no choice. I’m still trying to figure things out with
her at the same time as figure things out with Sophs, the last thing any of us need right now, well, me,
is tears and drama when my head is already struggling to function as it is. If I tell her she can’t come
up, she won’t leave, and if I leave with her, Sophie will get upset and probably never talk to me again. I
can’t win in this.

I take a deep breath to calm the crazy nerves that explode in my gut and suddenly feel pretty darn
afraid that Sophs is going to react badly. She’s already pissed, and she’s volatile when she’s like this,
unpredictable. She’s good at blowing like a bomb when cornered and I would say this was pretty much
an all-time cornering, on my part.

I walk back to the table and hover beside her as I try to find the words that won’t set sulky into storming
again and hesitate. Chewing on my bottom lip as nerves get the better of me and my stomach and all
my organs nosedive into my sneakers. She looks innocent and defenseless, but my girl is a hurricane
in a teacup when she wants to be, and she knows how to make me suffer.

“What is it?” She blinks up at me before I get a chance, obviously wondering why I’m footing around the
side of her indecisively. My blood runs cold with a fear I’ve never known when it comes to her; that
furrowed brow and angry look on her has me instantly worried that she is going to seriously flip her shit.
Memories of Sophie lash outs, tears, and tantrums, from her younger teens flit through my mind and I
wonder if she has more fight in her than I have witnessed, or ever had to control. I crouch down beside



her and scoop her hand in mine, enveloping that dainty warm softness that always seems so fragile, in
a bid to appeal to her sweeter side and calm the beast before it bites.

“I need you to be good, just for once, Sophs. I need you to behave, and not throw your dummy out, for
like one night. Even if you’re still pissed at me.” Practically pleading, knowing Tasha is almost here.
This could all kick off badly and I am in no state to deal with a cat fight. Sophie would annihilate Tasha
and in that I wouldn’t have a clue which girl I would protect. Obviously, Sophie is fiercer and would
probably inflict damage on Tasha, but my undying need to shield Sophie might get in the way.

“What?” She screws up her face, confused and wary, yet still pissed. Not a good combo on her. She
pulls her hand away and I sigh slowly, edgy, knowing deep down this heavy ache is anxiety at an all-
time high. This is not going to be good.

“Natasha is here. She wants to collect some things, and to talk. I just need you to not react.” I try to
keep my cool, that flicker of rage in her face makes my stomach drop further, and honestly, for the first
time in my life I actually wish Natasha would not come up and leave me to work on getting Sophie back
to sunny. I can handle Sophie when I’m left alone with her. I cannot handle Sophie when she throws a
shit storm around other people.

“I’m staying right here to eat. I’m not moving from this room, so if you want to talk, then take her
elsewhere.” She snaps and goes back to eating. Digging her heels in and being her delightfully difficult
self, always making a point of making me put her over Tasha. She doesn’t think I’ve noticed how many
times she has done this over the past two years and all the stupid fights it caused. I curb the urge to
rub the tension out of my face and implore her with a pleading look and a heavy sigh. I can see the light
on the elevator rising, getting closer to this floor and I am glued to this spot, set on making sure she
agrees to some level of good behavior.

“Promise me you’ll try to behave, that you will try to be nice for once. Remember, she’s hurting too.” I
hope I sound endearing, appealing to her softer side somewhere deep down, who does love me still,



despite being a dick.

Please, please, behave, beautiful. For me, for once.

“Why don’t you just come out and say it, huh? Sophie, please don’t mention the fact you’re the reason I
broke up with her and have kissed you twice!” She snaps at me again and gets up to slide past me
stroppily, with her plate in hand and a hair flick over her shoulder that conveys her attitude towards me
right now. My girl can definitely pull off sass. She’s a born natural and if I wasn’t shitting a brick with the
drama heading my way, I would be smiling at the little Diva she can be. She storms towards the kitchen
and I am powerless to do anything but follow her. Groaning inwardly and trying to keep my calm so I
don’t make her worse when she’s brimming for a fight, I can tell.

“Sophs?” I go to follow her again, but the ping as the elevator hits this floor signals the end of life as I
know it and interrupts my last-ditch attempt. This is going to be the death of me, I can feel it and my
body sags, insides disintegrate with a hot flush of defeat.

“Better go run along and welcome your girlfriend in.... I think I’ll take the couch and watch a movie!”
Sophie raises haughty brows, pointed snappy tone and saunters off wiggling her butt towards the
couch. I literally have to tear my eyes from that view and shake myself with a ‘what the fuck are you
doing?’ My whole face tense as I watch Sophie’s ass and try not to think about the fact that when faced
with ultimate death, I checked out my best friend unintentionally. No idea where the hell my mind went
in that moment, all of a sudden, zoned in on sexy wiggling butt in a tight dress, and not on the current
situation.

Where the hell did that come from?

“Don’t make this worse for her. I’m trying.... Just please.... For once in your life. Think about someone
else’s feelings.” Shaking myself and watching her get comfy on the couch, while trying to stop myself



from over analyzing the fact I legit checked out her ass; it’s thrown me, and I am trying to get my shit
together.

What the hell is wrong with me tonight?

I take an extra deep breath and move to the elevator fast as the door opens, in a bid to get my head
straight and plant a somber smile and genuine look on my face, which I hope conveys welcome to
Natasha. Natasha’s in the open space before I even get a chance to pull my thoughts together, as I
watch the doors, head caught in the twilight zone, because she is suddenly in my face and kissing me
on the mouth before I actually take in the fact she’s already in my apartment.

I recoil instinctively and manage to dodge more than a chaste brushing of lips, glancing over my
shoulder to make sure Sophie isn’t watching. I feel guilty as shit and I no longer know for which girl or
what reason. This is the same thing that happened after Sophie told me she loved me; first time
Natasha tried to kiss me. I felt exactly this way. Like I was betraying Sophie somehow, and yet also
betraying Natasha for thinking about Sophie at that moment. My head is so screwed up.

Natasha looks at me oddly, I think she senses or sees how weird I am being, not that it’s hard. I try for
a smile, take her jacket and practically haul it off her in my eagerness to get away from this dark corner
and back to showing Sophie that nothing is going on over here. I can practically feel her rage
emanating this way and I take a slow steadying breath and try to stay in control of my faculties. No one
unnerves me like she does, with one shitty mood and the unpredictability of my fireball demon
brimming below the surface.

“Hi Sophie. You look nice today.” Natasha walks ahead of me, leaving me with her coat and bag and I
mutely follow. Eyes scanning the brunette on the couch who looks, even from this angle, like she wants
to impale someone with her chopsticks and the nerves and tension inside of me only get tighter.
Natasha is the complete calm, and blissfully unaware, opposite. Walking to the coach in a steady and
graceful manner. Like a lamb to the slaughter.



“Thanks, you too!” Sophie glances Tasha’s way and the sarcasm oozing from within is clear as day.
Barely concealed venom of one pissed off Huntsberger girl tries to mentally hack the other’s head off.

Great!

I frown at her, in a bid to tell her to lay off. None of this is Natasha’s fault ad I hate when she behaves
like this towards her. Generally, Natasha is a sweetheart who very rarely has a bad word to say about
anyone and she certainly didn’t ask for this messed up triangle of the heart. Sophie visually gives me a
huge ‘Fuck off, Arrick’ glare and I know this is futile.

I have never had a chance in hell of controlling her, it’s something I always loved about her, at the
same time as being infuriatingly frustrating. And it is now biting me in the ass and she’s back to being
majorly pissed at me.

Just great. My life sucks.

“I hope you don’t mind me showing up like this while you two are obviously eating. I just needed some
of my things, and I hoped to have a little time with Arrick?” Natasha is mumbling something to Sophie,
but I am lost in trying to communicate with her from back here. I dump Tasha’s crap on the chair and try
like crazy to find some calm inside of me; some zen to get a handle on this and keep eyeballing my
Tasmanian devil, to keep a lid on her behavior.

“Nothing to do with me.” Sophie smiles, her deathly, black widow, and I hope you die, smile. I literally
feel all ounces of calm and control fly out the window and hope this death will be quick and painless. If
these two start, then I will need to protect Tasha from Sophs, and I don’t know if I’m even up to the task
of taking her on tonight. So god damn tired and I taught her everything she knows. Now seeing the
error in teaching her how to disable someone with a few kicks and well-placed thumbs. I stare at the
ceiling for a moment and wonder if leaving via the balcony might be a better option for me.



“Sorry, I know I’m staring.” Tasha giggles, pulling my attention back to the back of her head and I
wonder what the hell she’s doing. She never bothers talking to Sophie if she can help it but seems
intent on acting weird and flirty with her tonight. I feel like I’m in an alternate reality with her overly,
sickly sweet manner, towards her, and for the first time I wonder if Tasha swings both ways. Or if she
thinks this is something I might want, a three-way with those two?

Ummmm, fuck.... ehhh. No! I need a fucking drink.

“It’s just, I love your new look. It’s so very sophisticated, and your makeup is gorgeous. Maybe you
could give me some tips with mine before I leave. You look so pulled together.” Natasha is still talking,
and I wander to my kitchen in a bid to find booze, something a hell of a lot stronger than coffee. Trying
to ignore her weird behavior and blame this on some full moon lunar crap, or something equally odd. I
decide I am going to drown the bizarre with alcohol, and at least it won’t hurt as much if Sophie flips out
and throws me off the balcony.

“Drink?” I ask loudly, in a bid to stop whatever is going on between them and get them in on getting
drunk, because it might just save me from harm. Natasha looks like she is trying to get a date and
Sophie looks murderous, like she might turn into the newest New York hacker if Tasha keeps this up,
and I happen to know she has a violent trigger in that sweet little body, that makes it plausible. Can
totally see her turning feral.

I locate a bottle of wine, glad of that anyway, even if I don’t rate wine much, especially not red, and hold
it up in a bid to get Sophie looking at me, instead of plotting my ex-girlfriend’s demise by chopsticks.

“Ummm, sure.” Natasha giggles, weirdly. She isn’t a giggler and I wonder if she has already been
hitting the booze. I don’t get this act at all, and in the electric light I can see she is pretty dressed up
compared to normal. She’s wearing heels and stockings by the look of it and I wonder what gives. She
only wore them once, on my birthday the first few months we dated. If she thinks she’s staying for sex,
she can forget it. Sophie would never talk to me again and I wouldn’t do that to her. Couldn’t, not with



her here. I never even did it when she stayed under the same roof as me, at any time, even when Tash
was my girlfriend. With any of the girls I ever dated. It’s been one constant self-made rule in the whole
time I have known her.

“Maybe we should take it through to the study, just us.” I nod at Tasha, figuring that we can have a
drink, a quick chat, and tell her I need her to go. Early night, late training or whatever. Easier to brush
her off if Sophie isn’t sitting right there making me feel awkward about any contact between us.
Natasha has become excessively touchy since I came back and broke up with her, and I know I am
delaying having to go sit near or beside her.

I don’t know when this started with me, but it has; this over awareness to letting Tasha touch me,
incase Sophie gets upset. Maybe knowing how she feels about me has made me rethink it, I have no
clue. I wouldn’t want to hurt her that way, by pushing it in her face or making her have to endure Tasha
pawing at me while I know how Sophie feels.

I pop open the wine and start gathering glasses in a bid to focus myself and stop letting my head
wander off of the task in hand. It’s better to just get drunk and pretend this is not happening to me.

“I thought we could all, you know the three of us, sit for a while. I know we don’t really get on that well,
Sophie, and I figured maybe it’s time we tried.” Natasha looks lovingly at Sophie and then me, with a
small smile, and I do a small double take, having to stop the complete confusion hitting my face at her
weirdness.

Okay.... What is she doing?

I look at her and then Sophie and try to figure this out; what her sudden adoration for my bestie is all
about. It’s while doing so I catch sight of the movie starting on-screen, beside Sophie’s head and
realize she has picked the film Jason downloaded and discovered was pretty much porn from the first
thirty seconds. Not that we switched it off at the time, because, well… guys and porn!



Only Sophie! For the love of god.

“Plenty of food, maybe we should pick another movie though, right? Eat and then take it elsewhere?” I
eye the screen and try to motion to Sophie that she should change the channel, but she just looks at
me like I have lost my mind.

Yeah, I get it, this is weird... awkward. I don’t know what else to do, or how to play this, Sophs.
CHANGE THE FUCKING CHANNEL!

I know if I wander over and sit, that Tasha will follow me and get close; it’s what she did a few days ago
when she came by to talk and I know I really cannot handle this shit. Sophie is touchy, moody, and on
the defensive already. That will go down like a ton of bricks and to be honest, I’ve pissed her off
enough this weekend already and I’m getting a hangover before I even down the booze. I make a plan
of maneuver to dodge the awkward touchy-feely situation and follow it, hopping the back of the couch
when I come back so I land beside Sophs, a bit ungracefully, far from Tasha, so she has no choice but
to sit away from me. Problem solved on getting handsy and cuddly while Sophie is here anyway.

I deposit glasses on the table and concentrate on filling them, rather than all the eyes on me right now.
I have no actual fucks about how to handle this situation. The moaning on-screen starts, and I realize
Sophie never changed the channel at all. Glancing up to the opening scene and orgy in full throttle.

For fucks sake, why is this my life?

We have a full, high-definition, up close and personal, view of some guy licking out his co-star’s vagina,
nothing left to the imagination, and I want the ground to open up and swallow me. It feels like everyone
falls silent and stares at my huge tv screen in complete dumbfounded surprise for a moment.

That inner rise of panic hits hard. Sophie is too innocent for this kind of shit and this is all sorts of weird.
Sensing her body freeze as she clocks the view on-screen, I start moving around to look for the
remote, seeing it’s not in her hand anymore and willing her to stop looking at the screen. I swear if she



doesn’t, I’ll cover her face with my hands while I try and turn it off. She looks mortified from this angle
and I’m mortified that she is watching this beside me. She starts wriggling around too and I realize
she’s looking for it too, as her cheeks color with a blush and it makes me want to hold a pillow in front
of her face and save her from this trauma.

Sophie is my innocent; she doesn’t watch porn. I spy it between the couch seat cushions and dive for it,
except she does too, and we bang faces, full frontal, mouths so close I literally almost kiss her with the
awkward contact and in a millisecond and it’s all I think about. Forgetting Tasha is even here as soft
skin, warm, and inviting, that summer breeze smell of Sophie is all over me and we are so intimately
close for a second, that it’s pretty much the only thing in my head. Memories of a kiss that have been
plaguing me all night and day.

I want to kiss you again. So badly.

Fuck.

Sophie looks panicked, pulls the remote free and hits a button. Relief sinking through me as I shake
myself mentally and try like crazy to get my act together and move away a little to regain control. All
kinds of messed up, and maybe adding booze to this mix is not such a good idea after all. I turn and
realize there is a huge ass on my screen instead, larger than before, and some guys dick being
rammed into it forcefully; full penetrative sex in an up close and personal frame, and I feel like I might
just die.

Actual porn – great choice, Sophs.


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