SOPHIA
Ipace my room, not sure what to do with myself. How am I supposed to digest this information? I'd spent hours trying to figure out exactly how to tell dad. I’d make him dinner – his favorite – give him some beer, sit him down, and explain that I kind of love his friends.
We’d be able to talk it out rationally. I’d make it clear that it was me who did the seducing, that it wasn’t them preying on me or anything crazy like that. Sure, we’re kinky, but I know that people will immediately assume the worst because of the age difference.
But now I don’t get to take care of it. All I can do is deal with the fallout. I sniff and rub my hand over my forehead, sitting down on my bed. Mom is here; Dad knows about me sleeping with all his friends, and if Sasha’s told him, who else has she told?
Everything is unraveling.
“Sweets.”
I look up and see Gunner. I expected Roman to come comfort me, Nick to come talk to me, or even Holden and his nervous apologies. I pictured Gunner going after Sasha, telling her what a conniving little bitch she is and getting her to shut her mouth before she can do any more damage.
Instead, he crosses the room and hugs me, pulling me onto his lap and rubbing my back. I press my face to his shoulder, letting myself cry. I don’t know if it’s stress, the fear of being in trouble, or what.
“We’re not going anywhere. You know that, right?”
“He’s your best friend. I know how it works.” I try not to snot on his shirt.
“Yeah, and he’s being unreasonable as fuck right now.” Gunner rubs his hand over my hair before gently stroking my scalp.
A shiver teases my neck before I calm against him. I don’t know why that’s always worked, but it does, and apparently, Gunner knows it. He keeps gently petting me, promising me that the guys aren’t going to just leave me until my sniffling and crying stops.
“How could I give up a sweet thing like you?” He asks. “A girl that fucks me in the ocean while I tell her about reading erotica?”
I laugh once and lean back. Gunner rubs his thumbs over my cheeks, wiping away tears. He smiles gently. “Now, we can either handle this the Gunner way or the Sophie way.”
“What’s the Gunner way?”
“Getting trashed and fucking until we don’t think about anything.” He nods as if it’s been scientifically proven. “It has a pretty good success rate … until sober.”
“And the Sophie way?”
“You have to tell me.” He shrugs. “But I’m willing to try it.”
“I don’t know what to do, honestly. There’s just too much.”
“Do you want to … talk about it?” He says it so hesitantly that I actually think it’s new for him to suggest. And it’s humbling that he’s willing to when it’s so obvious that he hates the idea.
I laugh at his face, and he smiles slightly. “We’re going to be okay; you know that right?”
“We’ll see.”
“I’m willing to show you right here and now.” He pulls me closer. “Just tell me what you need because I suck at this shit.”
“You’re doing pretty well so far,” I assure him, smoothing his shirt.
Gunner kisses me softly, then hesitates before kissing me again. I know it’s new territory for him to be gentle like this, to even talk about talking things out, but it’s humbling as hell too. Knowing he’s willing to push his comfort zone for me is … amazing. I lick into his mouth, and he groans, holding me tighter against him.
He brushes his fingers through my hair and stays soft and gentle with me… well, mostly soft. I feel a familiar hardness against my thigh and roll my hips. He groans and grips my hips, drawing back.
“We don’t have to fuck, Sophie. I mean it.” He’s panting, though. “I’m here for you, not just the sex.”
“I know.”
“So we don’t have to do anything.”
“You saying that means you need to take your pants off now.” I tug on his shirt.