Page 43 of More than Fiction (Misty Springs #1)

Sophia

I knew sex with Corbin Buescher would be good. I had no idea it would be a mind-altering, life-changing, euphoric experience.

I lay in bed, my muscles languid and my body blissfully spent, stroking the strands of his thick hair as his head rested on my chest.

I thought about how unfair life could be.

Maybe somewhere out there, in another universe, there was a Sophia and a Corbin who got to do more together.

Who went on dates and learned each other’s quirks. Who knew what their favorite foods, movies, and colors were. Who could name every favorite dish from every favorite restaurant, and always be able to order their regular takeout choice—without even asking.

The buzzing of two distinct ringtones sounded from the other side of Corbin’s bedroom door. Both of our phones—our tether to the grim reality outside this room—hummed relentlessly in alternating succession, playing a melancholy soundtrack to our otherwise blissful scene.

I was being irresponsible, being here with Corbin and shutting out real life in Misty Springs.

Cassie was definitely one of those callers. I had never acknowledged that I would come in to work Monday after she texted me. This wasn’t like me, Ms. Reliable. I never missed a shift. I rarely missed calls. I always texted her back.

I never shacked up with my new boss hundreds of miles away and shut out the world.

“We should probably see what they want,” Corbin finally said, popping the bubble that held us in this blissful little world .

He sat up and eyed my body up and down once more with a heavy sigh. He watched me the entire time he pulled up his pants, angrily forcing each muscular leg inside the thick gray sweats.

I recalled how soft they were as they rubbed against my body. Did people with money to spare even know what it was like to wear itchy fabric? The kind that chafes your skin raw? Or was everything that surrounded them made from silky clouds?

“Can you hand me my clothes?” I pointed to the floor as I sat up in bed.

“Do I have to?” he teased, pulling his shirt overhead. “I am enjoying the view.”

I raised my eyebrows and extended my arm, making a grabbing motion with my hand.

“Fine,” he huffed. “But maybe we could compromise?” He held my new tank to his chest.

“I don’t think that will fit you,” I joked.

He tossed it to me with a grin. “How about just that little tank top and panties?”

“While you get to be fully dressed? No way.”

He slowly paced in front of me, his finger tapping a coy smile on his lips. So far, I had met arrogant Corbin, decisive Corbin, broken Corbin, and now I was meeting playful Corbin—and he was, by far, my most favorite Corbin yet.

“Okay, bottoms only, nothing on top,” he retorted.

“What if someone came up here? They’d open the elevator right into my tits,” I said as I pulled the tank over my head.

“You realize now, every time I come up that elevator, I’m going to imagine that it’ll open up to you topless.”

I laughed, but a part of me felt delusionally elated enough to think that he may just do that. That when he was CEO at Buescher Enterprises, and I was tucked away working for the publishing branch in Misty Springs, I would exist somewhere in his mind—after this fleeting moment of us was over.

“By the way. You know I can lock the elevator? We can totally shut the world out.”

Shutting the world out sounded heavenly. To hang on to this moment, to act like there was nothing else out there.

No crazy exes, no relationship policy, no sick loved ones.

Just us .

“Hmmm…” I said while dramatically tapping my chin, mimicking him. “How about you walk around with no bottoms and just a shirt—like Donald Duck— and I get fully dressed.”

Ultimately, we settled on him in just his sweats, shirtless, and me in his hoodie, with nothing underneath, and panties.

We walked out of his bedroom and faced the realities of the world outside our happy little cocoon.

But first, he locked the elevator, just in case.