𝐬𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐟𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬

《 secrets 》

She couldn't finish.

Keefe's eyes were hurt. He'd given her a real, solid compliment and she'd thrown it back at him. But she couldn't help herself.

"Sorry," she said, softening her voice for his sake. "I know you didn't mean that."

His eyes were pained. "I did mean it. You're pretty — just like her."

Sophie's emotions fought between embarrassment and unadulterated fury. Sure, Keefe was just trying to be nice. But the fact that she had anything in common with the woman who'd lied to her for years . . .

It was too painful.

"I don't look like her," Sophie insisted. "My eyes are brown, remember? And I never curl my hair. Or wear makeup . . ."

She was grasping at straws. The truth was, there were distinct similarities between her and Oralie. Their hair was the same shade, their lips the same shape, their noses even alike in slope. She hoped those details were trivial to the general population.

"I'm sorry," Keefe said, trying to hide the hurt in his voice. "I didn't mean to make you mad."

Sophie sighed, watching his face. Sometimes she forgot how broken he already was. "No," she said, reaching for his hand. "I'm sorry. You were being sincere."

He cracked a smile. "You sound surprised."

"You're the one always teasing me." She smiled. "I never know when you're serious."

"Well I am now."

Sophie studied his face. His brow, much like hers, was creased in concentration. They both burst into laughter.

"Alright," Sophie said, scooting closer. "I told you one of my secrets. Your turn."

Keefe smirked. "Correction: I guessed your secret."

"Either way, you still have to tell me one of yours."

"What makes you think I have secrets?"

"The worry in your eyes."

"That, Foster," Keefe said, keeping his tone light, "is not worry." Smugness hinted on his lips. "Though I'm glad you're taking a liking to my eyes."

That earned him another shove.

"Save it for your fangirls," Sophie said.

"Pretty sure you are one. I mean, you're here all the time. And," he added, smirking, "I get that cute little worry crease every day. What says 'I'm madly in love' more than that?"

Sophie shoved him again, then moved to the opposite swing so they wouldn't have to share.

"Hey!" Keefe complained.

"Tell me a secret and I might come back."

"Might?"

A sudden stomp pierced the air, and Ro marched onto the patio, her lips forming a sure complaint for the bruises lining her arms. Sophie fought a laugh, wondering what Keefe had done to keep her away so long.

Escaping Sandor wasn't that hard, and neither was Flori. But Ro?

Certainly not.

Ro paused when she found Sophie sitting beside a blushing Keefe. Her face suddenly filled with a grin. "Look who decided to visit," she said, smiling fondly at Keefe. "Anything you'd like to say about that red shirt of hers?"

Blushing, Sophie glanced down. Her tunic was more pink than red, but she still regretted wearing something so cheery and eye-catching.

"It's nice," Keefe mumbled, not meeting her eyes.

"Poor girl," Ro said to Sophie. "Not that I'm not routing for this whole Team-Foster Keefe thing, but I'm not sure he's worth it."

"Worth what?" Sophie shifted her gaze between Keefe and his bodyguard, which was hard since they were on either side of her.

"Confess," Ro said to Keefe, "or I'll do it for you."

"You wouldn't."

Ro flashed her sharp teeth. "Oh, I'm sure I would. You lost a bet last week."

Keefe groaned, covering his eyes. "Anything but this."

Ro laughed, a full-body laugh that shook her. It was filled with an evil type of glee.

"Uh, Keefe?" Sophie cut in quietly.

"Yeah?" He sounded anguished as he squinted at her.

"Should I go?"

He perked up. "Yes — please go —"

"Nice try, Hunkyhair." Ro took Sophie by the shoulders and guided her to sit directly beside him. "Better pucker those lips — 'cause he's got something he needs to say."

Alarmed by her choice of words, Sophie tried to stand, but Ro stopped her. "Believe me — he's harmless."

"Hey!"

Sophie laughed, despite herself. Keefe did have a habit of taking it personally when Ro said things similar to this.

"Oh — look at his eyes!" Ro clapped when Keefe focused in on Sophie's laugh. "They're little hearts."

"Shut up," he mumbled.

Sophie's heart picked up. She hated being teased about this. About Keefe liking her in a way he clearly didn't. And never would . . .

"Ten seconds," Ro warned Keefe.

Flustered, Keefe turned his gaze on Sophie. "Uh, Foster? You know that secret I need to tell?"

She nodded.

"I have a crush." The words tangled themselves together, and Sophie laughed.

"Weren't we talking about this last week? Of course you don't have one."

Triumphant, Keefe looked to Ro. "Looks like she doesn't understand. How about we send her home?"

"Not yet, pretty boy." Ro wheeled Keefe in the other direction when he tried to turn.

Sophie bounced on the edge of her seat, curious suddenly. What if he was serious?

"Who is it?" she asked. "Someone I know?"

"Definitely," Ro muttered, while Keefe went with the safer answer: "No."

Confused, Sophie crossed her arms. "I can't believe you told Ro before telling me."

Ro snorted. "Believe me, Blondie, this one has been pretty obvious."

"Biana," Sophie guessed.

Keefe laughed, his head shaking emphatically. "She's like my sister."

"I'm not sure she'd say the same."

"Doesn't matter." Keefe fixed a pair of ice blue eyes on her, so penetrating that her breath abandoned her when he added, "I prefer blondes, anyway."