Page 66 of Rebellious Hearts

“We met at a bar, actually,” I said, telling the truth. “It’s a place called Jester, and I’m there all the time, but Sofia doesn’t usually go there.”

Sofia nudged me playfully. “Yeah, it was quite an unexpected encounter, too. He hijacked our evening. It was supposed to be just us girls, celebrating a promotion, but Ben can be very persuasive.”

Richard laughed. “I can just imagine.”

“It’s not something I regret,” Sofia added and when she glanced at me again, her eyes were warm and filled with affection.

“It was a bit of a turning point,” I agreed.

“I don’t really believe in fate, but sometimes, you have to wonder,” Sofia said.

“Oh!” Richard cried out. “I completely believe in fate, destiny, love at first sight… all of it. We’re brought together for a reason, and if you feel that it might be fate, it probably is.”

I didn’t really believe in fate, but this thing I had with Sofia wasn’t like anything I’d felt before. And Richard was happy with us acting like we were together.

That counted for something.

Although, tonight it didn’t feel like it was just an act.

I reached for Sofia’s hand beneath the table, intertwining our fingers. I was aware of the rings I’d slipped on her finger, pressing against mine. She glanced at me and something tenderpassed between us. This was nothing like I’d felt before. This was… terrifying.

And I couldn’t get enough.

20

SOFIA

Oh. My. God.

Everything about tonight was like something from a dream. Ben was attentive and affectionate. He couldn’t seem to keep his hands off me. He was always touching me in one way or another, whether it was hand-holding, resting his hand on the small of my back, sliding his fingertips down my arm so that I got goose bumps…

The dinner went incredibly well. Not to mention the fact that the food was delicious.

Did all people with a lot of money eat this way? I wasn’t someone who cared about what was on my plate—I ate what was available, and my food was often very lean and clean because I didn’t have time to cook fancy foods.

But the way I’d been eating the last couple of days was something I could get used to.

Along with the main course, Richie had the staff pour us glasses of Cabernet Sauvignon and it went with the meal perfectly.

I had more wine than I usually allowed myself, but I was having a good time, and the wine made me feel light and airy and not so worried that Richie would see right through our act.

He seemed to buy that we were together, and the more wine I had in my system, the more I wanted to believe that we were together, too.

Ben was just sodifferentfrom the man he showed the rest of the world. He seemed to have this business face, a mask that he showed everyone, a suit of armor he didn’t let anyone get through. But with me, lately, he’d dropped that act, and it felt like he was showing me the parts of himself that he didn’t usually show anyone.

What did that mean?

Don’t overthink it.

I listened to the little voice at the back of my mind, the one that wasn’t a little tipsy with wine. But the more sips I took from my glass, the more that little voice faded…

“Are we ready for dessert?” Richie asked when we’d been making small talk and bantering for a while.

“Oh, I don’t think I could eat any more,” I said. “Everything has been so great so far, I haven’t exactly held back.”

Richie laughed. “Come on, I insist.”

I hesitated until the staff brought out a chocolate hazelnut torte.