Page 15 of Muse (The Forbidden Hearts #1)

SOPHIE

S al is ready and waiting for me with open arms, her living room transformed into a sanctuary of comfort.

Blankets piled high, a tub of rocky road ice cream already softening on the coffee table, and the remote ready to queue up The Office .

No words needed. I sink into her red velvet couch, my body folding into hers as she throws an arm around my shoulders. And then I break.

She holds space for me, saying nothing, just letting me shatter to pieces in her arms, ready to put me back together again when it’s time.

The sobs rip through me, raw and unfiltered, the kind that steal my breath away and leave me gasping.

My chest heaves until my ribs ache, my throat burns, and my eyes run dry.

I don’t know why tonight cracked me so wide open. I thought I’d long since left him and the memories of us behind. It must be the stress and the pressure, building up until I couldn’t hold it in any longer. The dam has finally burst.

Sal doesn’t try to stop it, she doesn’t rush me or offer me empty platitudes. She just lets me exist in the mess of my emotions until the storm inside me settles. When my body is hollow and spent from too many tears, and my breathing finally slows, Sal finally speaks.

“Want to talk about it?”

“No,” I shake my head slightly, still held in her embrace. “Not really.”

“Was it your mom?”

I let out a scoff, wiping my damp cheeks. “Surprisingly, no. Well, kind of. She invited Cole and his family over for dinner. He cornered me…” I let my head fall back, closing my eyes against the image of his snarling face. “He does what he always does. Such an asshole.”

She stiffens beside me, her whole body pulling taut.

“Fuck, girl.” She exhales sharply, her arms tightening around me.

I can feel her holding back questions, but she swallows them down.

She always waits until I’m ready to talk, it’s a fraction of why she’s such a good friend.

“I’m sorry. And for the record, if I ever see him again, I’m gonna kick him in the nuts. ”

A wry laugh escapes from my lips, finally feeling some of the weight lift off of my shoulders. Fuck him, fuck my mom for inviting him, fuck it all. At least here, in Sal’s house, I can feel safe.

“At least you're here. You're safe now.” She reminds me, giving me a squeeze.

I nod, inhaling deeply, my body still trying to reach equilibrium. Vanilla and warmth cling to every inch of Sal’s home, a scent so familiar it soothes the raw parts inside me.

“Wanna smoke? I can steal a joint from Jace’s stash.” Sal winks, a mischievous grin playing on her lips.

“Yes, please!” My smile is immediate.

Jace is a year older, but still lives at home.

Though I really can’t blame him. I’d never leave this house, either.

The two of them fight like cats and dogs, a constant tug and pull.

The tension between them is thick, a fraying rope ready to snap.

I have a feeling, though, that she secretly admires him.

Even when he pisses her off. He’s mysterious, an enigma I’ve never quite been able to figure out.

She hauls me up, leading me upstairs towards their bedrooms. The second floor is like a world of its own.

Two massive suites, hers and Jace’s, take up either side of the space.

Each is complete with a room big enough to fit my entire house in, only a slight exaggeration, an ensuite bathroom fit for royalty, and a sitting area.

Sal’s side is an explosion of chaos, makeup and clothes spilling over every surface.

Light oak furniture compliments the rosy pink walls that are plastered with posters.

Swag lights hang from the ceiling, casting beautiful light over the vast space.

Her guitars take up a large corner of the room.

Music is her favorite hobby besides reading. She’s good, too.

Jace’s room, on the other hand, is the opposite. A total man cave. Dark walls, leather couches, sharp angles and moody lighting. The dark wooden furniture is massive, making the room feel small. Walking to his door always makes me feel like I’m trespassing on sacred ground.

We don’t talk much. He’s always been cordial, but reserved in my presence. A little gruff, if anything. But Sal… well, she loves him, for some reason I can’t quite place.

We hang a left at the top of the stairs, following the hallway down to Jace’s room. The plush carpet is soft beneath my bare feet, the feeling luxurious. A faint trace of Jace’s cologne lingers in the air, something rich, sharp, and unmistakably man. Sal doesn’t hesitate, knocking confidently.

The door swings open almost immediately, a small smile on his face. “Hey—” he starts, his expression souring the second he spots me. “Oh. What do you want?”

Oh? Well fuck him too, then.

Sal, unfazed, leans against the doorframe.

“I need a favor, my stash is low… loan me a joint?” She puts on a pouty face, batting her lashes and completing the expression with puppy do g eyes.

On anyone else, it’d be laughable, but Sal has a way of getting what she wants.

I’d be too scared to ask the man for a bottle of water, but I’m convinced Sal could punch him square in his too-pretty face and he’d instantly forgive her for it.

He rolls his eyes, “Sure, hold on.” The door slams in our faces, and we wait for him to reappear.

“God, he’s so grumpy.” I mutter, side-eyeing Sal.

She snickers, “Yeah, he’s an ass.” But the way she says it, the adoration in her voice, betrays that she feels otherwise.

When he returns, he shoves a joint into her hand before slamming the door shut again. Charming.

We retreat to Sal’s balcony, a hidden safe-haven strung with fairy lights, oversized cushions lining the bench along the railing.

It’s our favorite spot in the house. Her mom doesn’t care if we smoke here, just as long as we’re not out roaming around, getting into trouble.

Alcohol is where she draws the line, not that I mind.

Sal lights up first, takes a slow drag, and passes it to me. I inhale, the warmth settling into my lungs, my body unraveling with each hit. The night air is crisp, the stars scattered in the sky like glitter, the moon casting her silver glow over everything. It’s beautiful, peaceful.

Sal starts rambling about some fight she had with Jace, her voice a familiar hum, but my mind drifts, my thoughts pulling me elsewhere. To him. The attraction I keep feeling, the pull I feel. I wonder what he’s doing right now, what he does in his free time… if he thinks of me.

My phone vibrates in my lap.

A chill prickles down my spine before I even look at the screen.

Mom: I’m assuming you’re at Sal’s. You are to come home immediately tomorrow after school, don’t push me.

My fingers curl around the phone, my chest tightening. There is going to be hell to pay tomorrow, but I can’t find it in me to care right now.

Sal nudges me. “You good?”

I force a smile. “Yeah.”

She doesn’t believe me, but she lets it go. Thankfully. I’m done feeling things tonight.

We sit there, passing the joint back and forth, until our toes go numb from the cold, until my head feels light, until I almost believe that peace like this could last.

Eventually, we drag ourselves inside. The clock on Sal’s nightstand reads 2 AM.

I’m going to be dead tomorrow at school. But for now, I let myself exist in this moment, this borrowed quiet.

Sleep doesn’t come easy. I stare at the ceiling, my mind running in endless circles. Sal is out the moment her head hits the pillow, and I listen to her soft snores as she sleeps next to me. Eventually, I drift off into a restless sleep.