Page 46 of Role Play (Off the Books #1)
“Daddy, Sora said we can have ice cream after dinner!”
“Did she now?” I raise an eyebrow at Sora, who has the grace to look slightly sheepish.
“I may have mentioned I have some cookie dough in the freezer,” she admits. “But I said only if it’s okay with your dad.”
“Please, Daddy? Pretty please with a cherry on top?”
How am I supposed to say no to that face? “We’ll see,” I say, the universal parent code for “probably yes, but I’m not committing yet.”
Dakota seems to accept this, spinning away to continue her exploration of the house. Sora lingers in the doorway, a slight furrow between her brows.
“I should have asked first,” she says. “About the ice cream.”
“It’s fine,” I assure her. “Really. I’m not that strict about desserts.”
“I just don’t want to step on your toes. I know how you get with rogue cookies.” She waggles her brows at me. “I want to be respectful. I’m new to living with a child, especially when decisions aren’t mine to make. Was her room too much?”
“Not at all. You’re doing great,” I tell her, and I mean it. “Dakota already adores you.”
The furrow between her brows eases, replaced by a pleased smile. “She’s pretty easy to adore back.”
“Yeah, she is,” I agree, feeling a familiar surge of love and pride.
An awkward silence lies over us. There’s so much I want to say, so many questions I want to ask. About the yacht, about the kiss, about other things. But the words stick in my throat.
“So,” Sora says finally.
“So?” I ask back. “Something on your mind?”
“Do you have ideas for our next…research date?”
“Oh shit,” I breathe out, dragging my hand over my face. “I’m sorry. I meant to get some ideas from Taio, but I’ve been distracted with Dakota and trying to make this whole big change for her easy and?—”
“Oh, hey now, of course. Don’t worry about it. Forget it. You have bigger fish to fry.”
“Sora, you’re just as big a fish as any in my life. I don’t mean like that… I mean clients. Shit, no, I mean yes , you are a client. An important one. I just mean…” I lift one brow. “Can you save me, here? You know what I’m trying to say.”
She scrunches her nose and clamps her eyes shut. “But you’re so cute when you’re uncomfortable and squirmy.”
“I already miss Taio,” I deadpan.
She belts out in laughter. “Hey, know what I was thinking? What if we called this whole deal off?”
“Sora,” I plead. “We just got here, please don’t?—”
“ No , I don’t mean for you to leave, Forrest. I’m saying, just pay me what you can in rent, and if that’s simply returning my ten thousand dollars, that’s fine.
” She flashes me a toothy grin. “You guys can squat here as long as you like, no pressure. We can be actual friends.” She holds out her hand and wiggles her fingers. “ Just friends .”
I shake her hand, pretending like I’m on board with her suggestion, but when she’s least expecting it, I tug her in close against my body. I scan the room to ensure Dakota isn’t lurking, then when I’m satisfied the coast is clear, I smack Sora’s ass, firmly. She yelps in surprise.
“Have you been writing?” I ask in her ear.
“Blocked as ever,” she croaks out, her breath growing ragged the way it does whenever I touch her like this.
“Then my job isn’t done. We’re not calling anything off. Give me a little time, I’m going to plan something great, I promise.”
“Something that involves me getting that ring back?” she asks, fluttering her lashes at me.
Not likely. I swear my ass cheeks were clenched in anxiety until I handed that thing back to Celeste. It’s from a rare collector’s line, and quite literally would’ve cost my life if I lost it.
“Excuse me, J.Lo, I thought you said your love don’t cost a thing. Aren’t we moving past the billionaire trope?”
She nods, a hint of color rising in her cheeks. “Maybe something with more edge? The dark, dangerous hero. The masked stranger. That whole thing?”
I can’t help the slow smile that spreads across my face. “Sora Cho, are you asking me to play the villain?”
“Not the villain,” she corrects quickly. “Just not the golden retriever. The anti-hero. The morally gray love interest.”
“I can do that,” I say, putting my hand back on her ass, shamelessly exploring as much as she allows me to. “Sometimes I’m not a good guy.”
“Daddy, I need a snack,” Dakota says, reappearing.
Sora leaps away from me like an antelope that just realized it mistook an alligator for a rock. She catches actual air in her determination to put as much space between our bodies as possible after the reemergence of my daughter.
“Baby, you just ate. You’re hungry again?”
Koda nods at me, her big, sad blue eyes growing huge. She presses her hands against her stomach and grimaces. “ So hungry .”
I exhale. “Bottomless pit at this age, I swear,” I say to Sora.
“Dakota, I have grapes, strawberries, blueberries, and vanilla yogurt in the fridge. Does any of that sound yummy?” Sora sweetly asks.
“Grapes and strawberries,” Koda answers, then shoots me a look. “Please.”
“Coming right up, lil lady.” Sora bustles to the fridge. I follow behind, trying to make myself useful by grabbing a bowl.
“You keep a healthy fridge,” I say.
She snorts in laughter. “I was just trying to impress you. The fridge in my apartment only has spicy pickles, old birthday cake, Coke Zero, and Flamin’ Hot Cheetos.”
“You put Cheetos in the fridge?”
Sora proceeds to rinse a cluster of green grapes. “You’ve never tried that?”
“No. Because it’s weird. Also, I don’t like spicy food.”
She stops rinsing, sets the grapes on the counter on top of a stack of paper towels, then presses her palm against her heart like she’s in pain.
“Are you okay?” I ask, filling with concern.
“You said you don’t like spicy food. I’m just mourning the death of our friendship.”
I laugh. “You kook. Rinse me some grapes too, please?”
She winks. “You got it.”
It’s wonderful and terrifying how natural this feels. Just a couple hours after stepping foot into the brownstone, it already feels like…
Home , I realize with a start.
Not the brownstone itself, impressive as it is, but her. It’s way too fast, way too much, but it’s undeniable.
Home is where she is.
In the span of a month, Sora has somehow worked her way in and become the other center of my world. The two people who collectively consume all of my thoughts, in one space together.
I know it can’t work between us.
But also…
How can it not?