Page 18 of Try Hard

“Would there be any point?” The question was bigger than just her music taste.

It was whether I needed to play cool how much I already liked her and always had, how much Kim and Tanika had been giving me away with their ministrations, but I didn’t want to pressure or overwhelm her.

Especially not so early on in getting reacquainted.

Ophelia Pendrick was not the kind of person you got second chances with if you screwed it up and hurt her.

She narrowed her eyes marginally. “Maybe not. You have been holding my phone like a lifeline for the last forty minutes, after all.”

I breathed a laugh. “Indeed I have.”

“Are you planning to return it at any point?”

“Maybe.”

She locked the doors that had unlocked themselves when she turned the car off. “Then, maybe I’ll let you out of the car.”

She knew I could unlock my door myself. The question was whether I would. Didn’t seem likely, not when she was willingly locking herself in a car with me. She’d be lucky if she ever got rid of me.

I smiled at her, drinking her in, just for a minute, before I held her phone out. “Talk to you soon?”

She smirked. “I have your number.”

“You do.”

“Not everyone can say the same.”

It had to be a good sign that she was glad I hadn’t returned Sammy’s affections. “They cannot,” I replied as casually as I was able with so many emotions bouncing around inside of me

She reached to take her phone. “Text me later.”

“You know I will.”

She shook her head, glancing towards the building. “Have a great time with your dad.”

I shot her one last, lingering smile before gathering my things and climbing out of the car. However, I hadn’t made it two steps before I knew I wasn’t quite done talking to her.

I strolled around the front of the car and knocked on the driver’s side window. She looked at me with deep amusement as she rolled it down.

“Archer. How nice to see you here,” she said, and, if you didn’t know her, it might have sounded more critical than amused. Luckily for me, I did know her.

“Pendrick,” I replied, playing along and loving the glint in her eyes. “What are you doing Tuesday night?”

She blew out a surprised breath. “I’d hazard a guess that I will be watching TV with my parents.”

“Think you can pull yourself away from those important plans?”

She tilted her head but didn’t pull back as I bent to lean my elbow on the frame of her window, bringing our faces close together. “Depends what you want me for.”

Everything. I wanted her for everything ever.

I tamped down the feeling. “That casual rugby team I mentioned?”

“Yes,” she said, drawing out the word, and I could see every fleck of colour in her irises as she stared directly into my eyes.

“There’s a game Tuesday night. Fancy watching me play? I’ll even drive and you can judge my music tastes.”

Her laugh was the most beautiful sound in the universe. “I think I can be free for that.”

“It’s a date.”

“Is it?” she asked rhetorically, her tone darkening.

I stayed in place, leaning against her car, admiring her as her gaze flitted to my arm. Unexpectedly, she lifted her hand and traced a finger over my skin. I could have died at the touch. Sure, I’d touched her a lot, but now, she was touching me, and that was exquisite.

“How did you get that scar?” she asked quietly.

“Ah. Unfortunate encounter with someone else’s cleats.”

She grimaced, her shoulders tensing.

I watched her open her mouth to reply only for both of us to jump out of our skin when a hand slapped down on the roof of her car.

My head shot up in alarm to see Soph standing in front of me, looking like all her birthdays had come at once.

“Fia!” she practically yelled, causing Ophelia to wince and me to do a double take.

I hovered by the car door, watching as Ophelia sucked in a calming breath.

She recovered quickly, looking up at Soph with a wry smile. “Sophie. It’s been a while.”

“You’re telling me,” Soph replied with a laugh, and I couldn’t help noticing the way her eyes were glued on Ophelia. “You look as gorgeous as ever. But get out of the car and say hello at least.”

Ophelia shot her a look like it wasn’t the first time Soph had complimented her. I couldn’t stop myself from feeling vaguely dizzy at the thought of the things teenage Sophie might have said to her. She’d always been very direct and flirtatious.

And Ophelia was clearly used to that.

She unbuckled her belt and stepped out of the car, shooting me an adorable look when I held the door for her.

“Fuck me. You look incredible ,” Soph gushed.

If I hadn’t been watching Ophelia’s expressions so closely, I might have missed the slight tightening of her eyes, the clench of her jaw. Sure, she wasn’t a fan of too much attention in general, but something about Soph’s comment bothered her in a more specific way; I’d bet good money on it.

She cleared her throat. “Thanks. You too.”

My jaw clenched too at that. Of course, it was just the thing you said to people you hadn’t seen in a long time, especially when they complimented you.

And it wasn’t even incorrect. Soph looked happier and more herself than she’d ever been.

Of course Ophelia would pick up on that.

And it wasn’t like she hadn’t complimented me earlier in the day. But still. Emotions were complicated.

Soph grinned and waved her hands down her torso, finishing with a flourished pose. “Tell me about it.”

Ophelia hummed quietly. “Quite a bit more ink than the last time I saw you.”

I frowned, putting the pieces together. “You knew about the stick and poke tattoo she gave herself.”

She shot me a knowing look. “I did, indeed.”

Soph laughed. “There was a time when you two were the only people in the world who knew—outside of me, of course.”

“How about that,” I said softly, enjoying the odd connection between our teenage selves more than there was any point in doing.

“Dad was furious when he found out.”

“If I recall correctly,” Ophelia said pointedly, “you always knew he would be.”

Soph grinned widely at her. “Yeah, but, you know, I was fifteen. It is what it is. And, I was right that they were something I loved.”

Ophelia nodded, clearly thinking back on fifteen-year-old Sophie, who had come to one of their mentoring sessions with a new, slightly wobbly tattoo.

That same girl who had burst into my room like she was on some kind of secret mission to show off her very first ink.

She’d been so proud of herself. I could only imagine she’d been the same when she’d shown it to Ophelia.

I hummed. “And, now, you’re fighting off Dad investing in the studio and banning him from sending you clients.”

Soph gagged, immediately flashing back to the client that had caused said ban. “You’d be doing the same thing if you had to deal with… that. ”

Ophelia scowled, looking from Soph to me questioningly.

I couldn’t help myself from leaning into her, stepping closer, and placing my hand on her back again, brushing her fingers where she had them clasped behind her. “I’ll explain later,” I said quietly.

“Ugh,” Soph groaned. “Tell her now. It doesn’t matter. It’s not like I can forget it.”

I laughed. “Dad’s boss, a man we’ve been hearing about since Soph was eighteen, was apparently wanting to get a tattoo and, obviously, like any proud dad, ours told him about Soph’s studio and facilitated the booking.

He told his boss how much of a professional Soph was, how good her work was, and he told Soph a million more stories about the man. All of them very professional.”

“Right,” Ophelia said, sounding a little unsure but curious.

“Well, it turns out he wanted a couple’s tattoo with his wife. Nothing weird there. Happens all the time. Except… this was our dad’s boss and the tattoos they wanted were… vulgar.”

“So inappropriate,” Soph muttered.

I laughed. “Again, nothing wrong with vulgar tattoos or tattoos in intimate places—”

“And I’m a total professional who can do a job without being weird about it,” she assured Ophelia, suddenly sounding like a little kid, desperate for her approval.

“But,” I said, pausing for effect, “it’s different when that’s the tattoo and it’s on your dad’s boss and his wife.”

Soph groaned again. “In Dad’s defense, he didn’t know what they wanted, but still. How do you have dinner with your dad after tattooing his boss’ genitals?”

Ophelia looked stunned. “I see. How… unfortunate for everyone involved.”

“Not the boss. Man got exactly what he wanted, loved it, and got the friends and family discount too. I was down there for hours.”

Ophelia pressed the smooth, soft, back of her hand to her lips, hiding her laughter before saying, “I’m sure he’s grateful for your work.”

Soph looked at her darkly. “Yes, well, Dad’s no longer allowed to send me clients without knowing exactly what they’re after.”

I nudged Ophelia, mostly just desperate to be close to her again. “She couldn’t even tell him exactly what the problem was.”

“What do you want from me? I’m a professional.”

“I think he figured out enough of what the problem was from context clues. Said he couldn’t stop blushing when his boss found him in the office to talk about how great the experience was—and how much he and his wife love the results.”

Soph shuddered and took a step towards Ophelia. “You can’t tell anyone about that.”

Ophelia held her hands up in surrender. “You have my word.”

“Good.” Soph shook the conversation off and grinned. “If you want to stop by, though, you are more than welcome.”

Jealousy shot through me again. I didn’t want to be jealous. I wasn’t a jealous person. But Soph had a history with Ophelia that I didn’t. Not to mention the fact that she was so much more forthcoming with her flirting, her affections.

“Oh, that’s very sweet of you,” she said, glossing over the implied refusal.

Soph grinned, her eyes dancing over Ophelia’s face. “If you’re afraid of needles, you don’t need to worry. I’m very good. You know, with my nervous clients.”

“It’s not a general fear of needles, no,” Ophelia replied, and there was something loaded in her tone and body language. I needed to know what she was thinking about.

“Okay. Well, I’m great with the clients who aren’t nervous too.”

Ophelia laughed at the obvious undertone in Soph’s voice. “I’m sure you are.”

Was that flirting?

I was pretty sure I was dying, stuck between my sister and Ophelia, the woman I’d wanted since I was a teenager. The one I couldn’t stop adoring more and more the better I got to know her, the more time I got with her.

I coughed loudly. “Well, we should probably get inside and leave Fia to her day,” I told Soph, ignoring the chanting in my head telling me to call her Ophelia.

“I suppose you’re right. Keep my offer in mind, though,” she told Ophelia, winking at her.

Ophelia nodded and bid her farewell as if she was completely used to that energy from Soph, and I really wasn’t sure what to do with that.

“I’m sure I’ll see you around,” Soph continued. “You know, since you’ve been hanging out with my dad and my sister. If you want to hang out with the cool member of the family, hit me up.”

“Goodbye, Sophie,” Ophelia said, pointed but amused.

I turned with Soph towards the apartment building, not wanting to leave Ophelia, but giving her the quickest of goodbyes, trying for casualness, as she opened her car door again.

However, I hadn’t gone two steps before I felt something tugging at the cinch on the back of my waistcoat. I turned back, allowing Soph to walk ahead of me. The sight of Ophelia, leaning away from her car, looking darkly amused, eased some of the burn I was feeling.

“Later, Archer,” she murmured, just for me.

I grinned and nodded before I followed after Soph, my hand clenching around the buckle where Ophelia’s fingers had just been, uncaring that she’d see the movement.