Elijah
For the first time, I’m worried about arriving in our flash limo.
“Should we have used something other than the limo?”
Lucas and Oliver look at me blankly.
“What’d you suggest, the helicopter?” Oliver laughs. “Don’t fret. We’ll get there in no time. You can play knight in shining armor. We all can.”
I sigh. Sometimes we’re all on a different wavelength. “Chloe said Sofie doesn’t know we’re coming; she had to break the sacred code. I mean, maybe we should have used something less obvious.”
Lucas drops his mobile back into his pocket.
“It’s not like she’ll be waiting at the window, staring out to see who’s coming.”
I sigh again. Probably true, but I feel awfully conspicuous.
I understand what it means, the holy BFF code. Breaking it is not an option; that’s why you’re a BFF.
But I’m fucking pleased Chloe did.
Every time I think back to what Chloe told us, rage builds in me, like lava about to erupt out of a grumbling volcano.
I swear if that fucking dickhead Greg was to show his face near me right now, he’d be fucking sorry.
For not having a face when I’m done with him.
When we stop outside Sofie’s house, I jump out first.
I can’t wait to see her and reassure her. And I’m not just talking about a reassuring fuck. No. I really want to reassure her on a deeper level. She needs to know that any problem, no matter what it, is can be discussed with me, with all of us.
Lucas and Oliver are hot on my trail as I bounce up to the front door.
Before my fingers find the bell, the door opens.
I’m half expecting Sofie to greet me, but of course it’s Chloe.
Eyes widen at my sight, and her jaw opens a little as she looks me up and down before taking in Lucas and Oliver.
I don’t want to fucking brag, but this girl’s clearly got to come to grips first with seeing us.
It’s probably not every fucking day she’s confronted with three fucking handsome billionaires.
“Thank goodness you’re here.” She sounds a little breathless. It could be because she run to the door, but I doubt it. We are fucking hot; let’s not beat around the bush. I’m not blowing my own trumpet; I’m just speaking from experience.
“Where’s Sofie? Is she all right? She’s lucky to have a friend like you.” I greet the BFF and take her hands between mine to shake them. Mixed emotions seem to cross Chloe’s face.
She’s biting her bottom lip, her eyes going from me to Lucas and Oliver. “Yeah, well I hope she’ll see it your way when she finds out. She was adamant that she didn’t want you to know. She wanted to sort it on her own.” Chloe invites us to come in. “She’s fiercely independent that way.”
“Independence can be highly overrated,” Oliver is following me inside.
“Hey, Chloe,” Lucas greets her, too, and now all three of us stand in the small hallway of their house.
“Where is she?”
My eyes search the small living room I can see from just inside the door, but Sofie doesn’t seem to be there.
I’m impatient to see her and put her out of her fucking misery. I just can’t believe what’s happened. None of us can.
Ever since Chloe’s phone call, we’ve been unable to really digest what her fucking ex-boyfriend has done to our Sofie.
Our Sofie. I like the sound of those words.
More and more, I’m thinking of her in terms of ‘ours’.
How fucking awesome will it be when we move in together? Why exactly I’m thinking of fucking moving in together right now is beyond me. Of course we’ve got to fix the current problem first before we talk future.
Our future.
“She’s through there,” whispers Chloe before disappearing.
And sure enough we find Sofie in the kitchen.
I see her bent over the bench studying and eating ice cream out of the container. Her expression is lacking the usual spark, replaced by misery and sorrow.
Her eyes look dull and sad.
Yes. Sad. Very fucking sad is how they look.
My insides feel as if a giant is trampling all over them before being ripped out to be thrown in front of a speeding overweight truck.
Good analogy, isn’t it? I know. I’m fucking brilliant with words. I can give any of those experts a fucking run for their money.
I clear my throat, and Sofie looks up. She doesn’t smile or greet us with enthusiasm, the way we’ve come to expect her to greet us.
“Sofie,” I decide it’s best not to beat around the bush but come straight to the fucking point. “Why didn’t you tell us that fucking prick of an ex-boyfriend of yours is giving you a fucking hard time?”
Her eyes widen and, instinctively, they look toward the door, as if she’s trying to make eye contact with Chloe through the walls.
“I…” she starts, but already, a lone tear rolls down her cheek. “You shouldn’t… know…I…my feet,” random words tumble out of her. They don’t make any sense.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
My thoughts turn murderous toward that fuck Greg.
“Sofie,” Oliver takes a step toward her.
But Sofie retreats, putting distance between her and us.
“Come on, Sofie,” Lucas tries, but the result is more tears.
I can’t fucking stand it any longer, and with three strides, I shorten the distance between us.
Without saying anything, I wrap my arms around her.
Her resistance wanes. I motion Lucas and Oliver to come, and they need no further signal. And there we are, all three of us, arms wrapped around Sofie who’s now sobbing uncontrollably.
For a while, we stay like that. Time stops, and we comfort Sofie the best way we can right now.
Eventually, she pulls away and wipes her face with a tea towel.
“Why didn’t you call us?” I ask again.
Sofie’s still wiping her face. “I don’t want you to think I’m weak and helpless. I’m not one of those women who needs a bloke to rescue her the minute there’s any kind of trouble.” She starts to explain, but tears spill again. “I can sort it out, I don’t know how but…I’m independent…”
Lucas chuckles and wraps his arm around her shoulder. I watch her rest her head against him.
“Sofie. Sofie. Sofie.” is all he says and gives her a little kiss on the forehead.
“Have you ever heard of the term ‘teamwork’?” It’s Oliver’s turn to address Sofie.
I watch her eyes become those huge puppy eyes that has me wrapped around her little finger. When she makes those eyes, my heart melts faster than chocolate over a hot stove.
“What?” She’s clearly puzzled by Oliver’s approach.
“You know,” I add, “teamwork. It’s several people working on the same project for the common good.”
“I know what teamwork means,” Sofie’s sounding a little exasperated. “I don’t understand what it has to do with me.”
Lucas points to Oliver and then to myself. “We’ve achieved heaps in our lives because of teamwork. We have each other’s backs, we discuss problems, how to solve them, and what approach is best for different situations that arise.”
Sofie is frowning.
I just want to kiss those eyebrows and delicious lips and rid her of her worry.
“I still—” she starts but I interrupt her.
“What Lucas is saying is that you should have told us what the problem is. All of us then could have helped you sort it out. Including you.”
“And we can still sort it out together,” adds Oliver.
“But it makes me look weak and silly and…,” she leaves the words hanging.
“What a load of rubbish,” Lucas protests.
“Didn’t you just listen to a word we said?” Oliver’s on her other side, and I’m standing in front of her. “Together, as a team, we can help you work out a solution to this problem.”
“I suggest we hire a fucking hit man and get rid of this fucking parasite,” I grumble, and Lucas and Oliver shoot me the ‘You better be kidding’ look.
I shrug.
“What? It’d be the best fucking solution for all of us. He wouldn’t be a problem for Sofie anymore either.” I don’t add that I know a Polish bloke who would do it for about two grand.
Sofie’s actually chuckling, and that warms my heart.
“I think we can solve the problem with less violent means,” says Lucas, and Oliver nods.
“Spoilsport,” I growl and pout in pretend disappointment. Of course I wouldn’t really want to see the fuck get shot, but the suggestion cheered Sofie up, and therefore it was fucking worth it.
“You don’t think I’m weak and helpless?” Sofie’s looking at the floor and not making eye contact with any of us.
I think we’re so used to working as a team we can’t imagine what it feels like for Sofie.
“You are anything but helpless.” Oliver says, and Lucas and I nod.
“You are one of the most independent woman I know. And us helping you has nothing to do with being helpless,” agrees Lucas.
“Or weak.” I add, to make sure I get the last word.
Sofie glances up and smiles a tiny smile.