Page 9 of Forever, Never, Always (Forever #2)

Sofia

It’s wrong, I know it is, but I can’t get Ric out my head.

We almost kissed, and I wasn’t going to stop him.

Zoe didn’t even enter my head. Not once.

And I think he feels the same way. Not that I’d know because he’s spent the last couple days avoiding me.

And I’ve avoided Zoe because what kind of friend am I?

The office is buzzing, and Amelia is in a great mood, which seems to brighten the entire team. By lunchtime, she drops by my desk. “Lunch,” she says bluntly. “My treat.”

“Erm, I’ve got my own,” I say, pointing to my lunchbox, which she eyes with disdain. I force a smile. “But I could save that for tomorrow.”

She smiles too and claps her hands. “Great, let’s go.”

We head for a little deli on the corner.

It’s expensive, which is why I never come here, but Amelia doesn’t bat an eye at the extortionate price of two smoothies.

I opted for the same as her, seeing as I’m not clued up on menus that offer things like boiled eggs wrapped in spinach for almost six pounds.

We sit by the window, and she immediately leans closer and smirks. “So, give me the gossip on you and Dex.”

My cheeks instantly burn with embarrassment. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Don’t give me that. You two are always non-stop chatter.”

“Just about work.” She rolls her eyes, and I have the urge to impress her. “I mean, he’s cute.” Her eyes widen slightly, and I see a flicker of intrigue. “And I think he likes me.”

“You do? Did he say that?”

I shake my head. “Not exactly.”

“You should ask him out.”

“Ask him out?” I repeat, my eyes bugging out my head. “He’s my boss.”

“Office entanglements are so in.”

“They are?”

“I’ve heard he’s an animal in the bedroom.”

“You have?”

“Look, when was your last good fuck?”

My cheeks heat brighter. “Erm . . .”

“Because if Dex is offering it, take it.”

“I’m not sure . . .”

“I’ve never seen him talk to someone the way he talks to you,” she muses. “He must be into you.”

“Do you think?”

She nods with enthusiasm, and even though I currently feel like a teenager, I can’t help but smile while excitement bubbles away in my stomach.

It’s been too long since any man really looked at me like .

. . well, like Ric looked at me on Saturday.

And seeing as I cannot under any circumstances go there, maybe Dexter isn’t such a bad option.

A smile pulls at my lips as I stir my smoothie. “I might see if he wants to have a drink sometime.”

Amelia groans. “No, you can’t just ask him. You need to get him to ask you.”

“I’m not good at games. Or flirting.”

“I know him well. We’re practically best friends. I’ll speak to him, sound him out.”

“That’s not a good idea.” I don’t want to seem like a desperate teenager. “Anyway, he’s probably got a girlfriend. I walked in on him with someone—”

“He hasn’t got anyone.” She stands. “I have the best ideas, don’t I?” I nod, also standing. “Oh my god, I can’t wait to see your face when he asks you out.”

I rush after her as she heads for the exit. “I don’t think he’ll want to go on a date,” I try, panic taking hold.

“Trust me, with my help, he’ll be begging on his knees.”

We get back to the office, and Dexter is mooching around. He glances up, giving us a bright smile as we pass, and Amelia nudges me, giggling . I know I should act my age, but it’s hard not to get swept up when she’s finally making me feel accepted.

“Smile lots and undo the top button,” she says, turning to face me and popping the button on my shirt.

I glance down, unsure, but she fluffs my hair and turns me to face my desk.

“Cross your legs in a sexy way,” she whispers, pushing me to sit.

I cross my legs, glancing nervously to see if Dexter is within earshot.

He’s chatting with one of the runners, so I focus back on Amelia, who thrusts a lip gloss in my hand.

“Try this,” she says then proceeds to grab a bottle of perfume from her bag and spritz it in the air around me.

I cough, wafting my hand to clear the fog of sweet-smelling cakes or whatever the hell it is.

“Now, play it cool,” she instructs, glancing behind her.

“Pout a little. Push your chest forward and laugh at the things he says. He loves making women laugh.” I nod, secretly praying Dexter goes back to his office.

I’m getting in over my head. “And touch him at every opportunity.”

“Touch him?”

“Yes, like . . .” She runs a hand over my arm and throws her head back, fake laughing. “See, it’ll make him feel special.”

She begins to walk away, and I breathe a sigh of relief until she shouts across the office, “Dex, Sofia wants to speak to you.”

The entire office seems to stop, and I glare wide-eyed in her direction as she takes a seat beside Noah, who is watching the exchange with a smirk. “I . . . erm . . .” I swallow the huge lump that seems to be clogging my now dry throat. “I . . . well, it can wait.”

“No, it can’t,” says Amelia, giving me a pointed look.

Dexter heads my way with his hands stuffed in his pockets and his head slightly lowered. If I’m not mistaken, he looks embarrassed. Amelia is leaning against her desk with her arms folded over her ample chest, watching us like a hawk.

“Everything okay?” he almost whispers.

“It can wait. It’s not important.”

Amelia is nodding at me in a way that means she’s waiting for me to carry out her instructions. Oh god, what the hell am I doing?

I run my hand over my leg, lifting my skirt slightly higher to show some more thigh. His eyes follow the movement, and somewhere in my clouded brain, I take it as a sign, so I push my chest out further. “Are you okay?” he asks.

“Yeah, I’m stuck on this article,” I say, tapping a button on my PC so the screen opens on the article I’m writing.

He places one hand on my desk and the other on the back of my chair, then he leans over me to read my article. “It’s finished,” he states, clearly confused.

I laugh. Loud. It’s a sharp, awkward screech, which makes him flinch. I slap a hand at his arm but miss completely and pat his back instead, like a clueless aunt at a party. Oh god. My mouth is so dry, it feels like I’ve been eating sand.

“Seriously, Sofia, are you okay?” he repeats, his brows knitting together in genuine concern.

I try to recover, to save at least a small piece of my dignity, by flicking out my hair and pushing my chest out like I’m suddenly Jessica Rabbit, but I misjudge the angle and headbutt him.

Like, actually headbutt him. Our skulls knock together with a dull thud that echoes all my bad decisions leading to this point.

I gasp in horror and jolt back, but my chair rolls a few inches before stopping dead against my bag.

The sudden halt launches me forward, and I slide right out my seat, landing on my knees in front of Dexter, like a damn sacrifice to the gods of humiliation.

And somewhere in the back of my mind, there’s a little voice telling me it serves me right for acting like a damn teenager.

I freeze. Still kneeling. Still mortified. Still squarely in front of Dexter’s crotch.

“Well, isn’t this cosy,” comes a voice slicker than a greased weasel in a business suit.

I don’t need to look. I already know.

But I do, because the universe has no mercy.

Amelia leans against my desk like she’s on the cover of Corporate Sociopath Monthly , one manicured hand holding up her phone, recording. Her screen is angled perfectly toward me. Kneeling. Flustered.

“Don’t stop on my account,” she says sweetly, camera still rolling. “Oh my god, Sofia, this is gold . Do you know how long I’ve waited for this moment?”

“Amelia,” says Dexter, his tone warning.

She ignores him. “You were right,” she says, flicking off the record button. “You really can’t flirt.”

“Wait . . . you filmed me?”

“For growth purposes, obviously. We all want you to win, Sofia.” She winks. Winks.

“You told me to flirt with him,” I cry, jumping to my feet and ignoring the way my knees crack in protest, only reminding me further that I’m older than I’m currently acting.

“That’s messed-up, Amelia,” mutters Dexter, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Oh, please, I’m just the narrator. The chaos is all hers.”

“Delete the video,” I demand. I glance to Dexter, who nods in her direction, and she groans as if deleting my humiliation is a great inconvenience to her.

She taps her screen. “There. Gone. Much like your dignity.” She turns on her heel and saunters away.

Dexter clears his throat then also scuttles away to his office, where he can hide out while leaving me to die in my own humiliation.

Eric

“You’re not even here,” says Hugo, waving his hand in front of my face and forcing me to focus back in on the conversation.

“What’s going on with you?” asks Seb, nodding towards my untouched pint.

“I’m thinking of ending things with Zoe.”

Hugo sits straighter. “Why?” He’s worried how this will affect things with our newfound friend group. Zoe is a huge part of Meg’s life, so I can understand his concern.

“She’s been lying to me,” I mutter.

“She’s not cheating?” asks Jimmy, suddenly alarmed.

I shake my head. “I was already thinking of ending things, but then I saw an email on her phone from a private clinic.” They’re all paying attention as I take a drink of my pint.

“So, I looked through her phone while she was sleeping.” All three gasp like I’ve committed the ultimate sin. “Trust me, I’m not proud.”

“So, what did you find?” asks Jimmy.

“I don’t think we need to know,” says Hugo. “We trust your reasons, but if you tell us, you’re really breaking her confidentiality.”

Jimmy rolls his eyes in annoyance. “Why are you always the fucking voice of reason? He’s our brother, and we should know all the information before we pass judgement.”

“She had an abortion,” I say, and they all stare at me wide-eyed. “It’s not the reason I want to end things,” I add, “but it’s part of it.”