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She stared at the neon orange sticky note stuck in the middle of the front door, like it was daring her to enter at her own risk. The writing was definitely her housemate and best friend Hazel's. She has seen those chubby, cursive letters from random notes around the house, like when she wrote morning greetings and stuck them on the bathroom mirror.
"Sophie Baek, you have been evicted for tonight (SORRY). John and I ask for some privacy (IYKYK). John left his house key (you know where I leave mine) so you're free to stay the night at his place. His housemate is gone for the weekend. I owe you big time! Love ya - Hazel"
She gave a long, dramatic sigh. If his housemate was gone for the weekend, they could have just gone to his place instead of hers, knowing I would be around the entire weekend.
In truth, her shift at the book store had been long and exhausting, and she was looking forward to taking a long, hot shower before curling up in bed with her current book of choice. But at least Hazel left a note. Imagine if she just walked in and Hazel and John were at it like frisky rabbits, testing every furniture surface they could think of desecrating.
She walked over to the window box planter and searched for John's key. This is where Hazel leaves her keys in case of emergency, though Sophie never had any need to use Hazel's. She always made sure she had her own keys with her when she steps out of the house. Sophie was responsible and efficient like that, but she never said anything to Hazel so she wouldn't hurt her feelings.
She found the key with no problem and closed her fist around it. The faster she got to John's, the faster she could get comfortable on his oversized living room sofa so she could catch up on her Netflix movies to watch. She wished she could change into something more comfortable, though, like her fluffy blue flannel pajamas and her fluffy gray bedroom slippers. Alas, she had to get comfortable in what she currently has on: her dark, wide-legged denim jeans and her plain white shirt tucked in. Her feet felt twice their size in her navy blue Puma Palermo's, but at least she could just kick them off in the next five minutes.
Except, the moment she was about to unlock the door, it flew open. Sophie stood there in shock; key in her right hand and her mouth agape. Standing in front of her was Benedict Bridgerton, John's housemate and best friend. He looked just as surprised as she was. They stood there staring at each other for a good couple of minutes before Sophie stammered an explanation.
"Hi," Sophie managed to say before things got even more awkward. "John's next door…like…at my place…with Hazel…"
"Yeah, I got the text."
"I got a sticky note on the front door," she laughed. It sounded a little stupid and unnatural, so she closed her mouth immediately. "Anyway…Hazel said you were away for the weekend and that I'm welcome to crash on the sofa while they…uhhh…do things people in love do."
Benedict raised a brow. "Not everyone who does the thing are people in love, Sophie."
"Right, right."
"And you can say 'sex' because we're all adults here."
"I was going to say that but my brain farted."
Benedict gave a soft chuckle. He stepped back and waved a hand to let her know she was welcome to step inside the premises. "You can get comfortable on the couch. I'll be in my room, so just relax…watch a movie or something."
Sophie stepped inside warily. She has been here a couple of times but she still felt a little uncomfortable to say the least. It was one thing to hang out at a friend's house, and another thing to hang out at someone's house when that someone isn't around and it was just you and his good looking housemate.
Did I just say good looking? Cheesus.
But Benedict Bridgerton is good looking. All five feet eleven inches of him. Dark curls she wouldn't mind running her fingers through. He had freckles on his chest…not that she was looking voluntarily…but his green button up shirt was open a couple buttons. He had a mouth that looked like it could do sinful things…not that she was looking voluntarily again…but his mouth was moving which meant he was saying something and Sophie wasn't even listening.
"Are you okay?" he asked. His face had a worried expression as he stared at Sophie. Like she grew three heads and she wasn't even aware.
"Yes! Sorry, I blanked out. What were you saying?"
"I said I was supposed to go to my Mom's this weekend, but she went on a last minute trip with her friend so that's why I'm here."
"Oh," Sophie said with a nod. "Sorry about the change of plans. I bet you'd rather be out somewhere than stuck here at home."
Benedict gave a slight shrug. He walked towards the 75-inch TV while waving at the oversized gray couch. "It's fine. Make yourself comfortable, by the way. TV's all yours, if you'd like to watch something."
Sophie set her purse down on the coffee table, and plopped heavily in the middle of the sofa. "Anything good on Netflix?"
"Depends on your type of movie. Are you the romcom type of girl? Or are you the serial killer documentary type?"
"I'm the romcom-serial killer-murder mystery kind of girl."
"Ooh," he muttered as he picked up the remote and put Netflix on. "Exactly my type."
"Ahh…" she played along. "Where do you keep your kitchen knives, by the way?"
"Somewhere I wouldn't tell you."
"Nice. I brought my own anyway."
Benedict stopped searching the movie catalog and side-eyed her. "I'm praying that was a joke."
"It was."
"Thank God."
"I'm not a serial killer, Benedict."
"That's what serial killers say, Sophie."
"Do you want me to leave?"
Benedict turned to her fully this time. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes, but he couldn't help one corner of his lips from lifting. "No, Sophie. You're welcome to stay. I know you're not a serial killer, but please don't prove me wrong."
"Voicemails to Isabelle."
"What-mails-to-what?"
Sophie laughed. "I heard 'Voicemails to Isabelle' is good. We should watch that."
"Is this going to make me cry?"
"Do you cry during movies?"
"I think Bambi scarred me for life."
"Same."
Benedict smiled wider this time. He pressed play and settled comfortably on the sofa next to Sophie.
She didn't know how it happened but her hand was covered entirely by his hand. He didn't seem aware of it either, so before he realized where his hand was, she stayed still instead. She kept her eyes on the TV screen, even if she was super conscious of how warm his hands felt against hers. How gentle his touch was. And now, his thumb was caressing her knuckles like a whisper across her skin. She could hear her heart thumping against her chest.
"I'm getting a beer. You want one?"
Sophie was startled out of her silly thoughts. Benedict stood, his hands curled into fists against his side. He didn't wait for her reply, then walked towards the kitchen to disappear from her sight. She could hear him open the fridge to grab two beers, then close the fridge door this time. It wasn't long before he reappeared, two beer bottles in one hand while the other had a large bag of crisps.
It almost made her wonder if she imagined them holding hands just five minutes before, but maybe it was a good excuse to hold his hand again just to make sure it was real.
"Black truffle crisps?" he asked, handing her the large bag. "I don't think we have anything else, so that's what you're getting."
She took the bag from him and immediately tore it open. She hasn't had anything to eat since lunch so her stomach growled almost immediately. "Thanks. I like black truffle crisps."
Benedict laughed. He couldn't help it. He heard her stomach protest and knew the crisps wouldn't be enough. "You know what? How about we order food? I don't think crisps would satisfy that hunger of yours."
Sophie scrunched up her nose. "Was it that loud?"
"Sophie…people down the street could hear your stomach growling."
Ugh. How embarrassing.
Benedict stared at her with those piercing blue-green eyes of his. How come she never noticed that before? He did it so intently she was starting to shrink into nothingness.
"You know what? I have a better idea. Put your shoes back on."
Sophie's brows furrowed. "What? What are we doing? Where are you taking me? Are you a serial killer and you've been charming me this whole time?"
Benedict raised a brow. "Are you charmed?"
"Maybe."
"Good to know," he said as he helped her up from the couch. "I've been trying for the past hour, in case you haven't noticed."
"I haven't."
Benedict's shoulders sagged dramatically. "Damn it. I need to do better."
Sophie laughed softly. "I was kidding. You're very charming, Benedict. Now tell me, where are we going?"
"So you were charmed."
"Yes."
"We're going for a drive."
"To where?"
"Your stomach says prawn wonton soup at Chop Chop."
Sophie's face lit up. "And char siu bbq pork."
A grin appeared on Benedict's face. Consider me charmed instead.
"The thing I hate the most is when you go on a date and your date says she's on a diet and proceeds to order water and breadsticks."
Sophie scrunches her nose in disgust. "Just breadsticks? Never."
"Good," he said as he picked up his wallet and key fob. "I was planning on feeding you till you pass out."
"So you are a serial killer then," she said, playing along. She picked up her purse and followed him to the front door. "You're going to kill me while I'm passed out."
"Maybe."
"Nice," she quipped. She could see the corner of his lips turn up as he let her out the door first. "At least let Hazel and John know you fed me first before leaving me in a ditch somewhere."
"I have a better idea."
Benedict walked back inside to grab a sticky note and a pen from the kitchen drawer. Sophie could see him chuckling as he scribbled something down. He handed her the note and asked her to stick it to the door. Sophie read what he'd written and laughed.
"John and Hazel, you're not allowed to come in. Sophie and I are determined to have wild sex on every corner of this house, and we will do it louder than both of you have been at it. Come back tomorrow at 10am. - Benedict and Sophie"
Sophie followed Benedict to his car, slipping in the passenger seat next to him. "10 am seems a little too early. You could have said 'come back on Monday' instead. Hazel would believe that."
Benedict looked at her, his eyes squinting a bit. "Don't make me test that theory."
"You're welcome to."
Benedict was quiet as he backed out of the driveway, which worried Sophie that her reply might have been a little too forward. She was joking, of course, but maybe half meant.
As soon as he shifted the gear to drive, Benedict replied without even looking at her.
"How fast can you finish your food?"