The Wrong Path

01 | spur of the moment

"You're drunk," Sophia said, amused.

"Am not!" Ophelia protested.

"You are."

"Am—"

"There you are!" a voice called.

They both spun around.

Kit grinned, and Sophia's heart skipped a beat. He looked particularly gorgeous tonight; his dark hair was still styled from whatever photoshoot he had come from, and he smelled like expensive pine cologne. He was also carrying a cigar. Not because Kit smoked — he was far too concerned about his dental hygiene — but because he liked the look of a cigar. He'd once told Sophia it made him feel like an old Hollywood film star.

"Hi, babe," Kit said, leaning down to kiss her cheek. "Sorry I'm late." His eyes swept over her. "You look unreal. Is that dress new?"

She smiled. "Two-piece."

"Pardon?"

"It's a two-piece." Sophia pulled out the hem of the top, showing him the slash of skin near her ribcage. "They're very in."

"Whatever it is," Kit said, "I like it."

Sophia's smile grew. "You only like it because it's tight."

"Well," Kit murmured, "I'm not the only one. Every man in the room is watching you." His warm breath raised the hair on her neck. "I'm insanely jealous; it makes me want to steal you away."

Her cheeks warmed. Even now, Sophia wasn't immune to Kit's charms; they'd met six months ago at a launch party for a new activewear range, and he'd taken the Peloton next to her own ("I hate cycling," Kit had later confessed. "You have no idea how miserable I was."). After the class, he'd asked her for coffee. She'd said yes.

She liked Kit. Some people were wary of him— they found Kit smarmy or arrogant or both — but Sophia had seen him flinch after reading comments on Instagram. She'd seen Kit vlog his "What I Eat in A Day as A Male Model" and then turn off the camera, collapsing on the sofa with a beer. They worked in the same industry. They understood one another.

Yes, Sophia liked him. She just worried that...

Well.

She just worried.

Sophia worried what would happen when she no longer fit the tight dresses. When her skin began to sag, and her face grew wrinkled. Would men still offer to carry her suitcases? Would people still smile at her in the grocery store? She had nothing else to fall back on. No talents or accomplishments. Just beauty products, good timing, and winning the genetic lottery.

She was privileged. She knew that.

But how long would it last?

Kit extended a hand. "I don't think we've met before. I'm Kit."

To her credit, Ophelia took it without complaint. "Ophelia. Sophia's cousin."

Kit blinked. "Her cousin?"

His eyes darted between them, and Sophia bit down on her tongue, hard. She tried not to mind. Really, she did. But even now — even though it had happened to her a million times before — she still felt that annoying tug at her heartstrings.

"Yes," Sophia said coolly. "Our mothers are sisters."

Kit looked perplexed. He seemed to be trying to reconcile Ophelia's fair skin and red hair with Sophia's Asian heritage. She could practically see the small hamster wheels in his mind turning.

"Right," he said slowly. "That's... that's cool."

Unfortunately, Ophelia chose that moment to lurch forward, almost knocking Sophia flat on her back.