Wrong Read online

Page 12


  "I found it by the DVD's," he replies, as if this explains everything. "It's an elf."

  This isn't a tradition I did with my grandparents and I can't imagine Luke did either. "I think this is for little kids," I say, reviewing the box.

  Luke shrugs and pulls a menu out of the drawer. "Do you want to order in or go down to Serafina?"

  "No!" I blurt out. "Not Serafina."

  He looks confused. "You don't like Serafina?"

  "I love Serafina," I say, then realize I've painted myself in a corner. I don't want to admit I'm feeling weird about Luke always taking me out to eat at a restaurant that's conveniently located in his lobby. I'm behaving like a brat. We just went to Target in public, it's not like he's hiding me.

  He looks at me like I'm going to elaborate. When I don't, he puts the menu away and picks my panties up off the floor and slides them up to mid-thigh, then repeats the motions with my jeans before lifting me off the counter and sliding them the remaining way up. He even zips and buttons me back into my jeans and I gotta admit, watching his huge hands dress me makes me want to rip everything off all over again.

  "What’s your favorite Italian restaurant, Sophie?" he asks as he holds my sweater up for me to put my arms through.

  "Lombardi's," I reply automatically.

  "Okay," he says and slides his keys off the counter. "We'll go to Lombardi's."

  "Luke! Lombardi's is forty-five minutes away in Horsham. And it's not your scene, it's very casual." I feel like such an ass. "Serafina's is fine. Let's just eat downstairs."

  He pulls me closer. "You don't think I'm casual?"

  "Luke, please," I laugh. "You're the least casual person I know."

  "Hmm, maybe," he murmurs into my hair. "I don't feel casual about you," he says, kissing the top of my head. "So maybe serious isn't all bad."

  What is this guy doing to me?

  Chapter 22

  "He bought you an Elf on the Shelf?" Everly is staring at me like I've just announced we had a three-way with an elf.

  "Yeah. Neither of us really knew what it was, but we looked it up and now he texts me pictures of the elf every morning," I say with a big stupid grin on my face.

  "Pictures of the elf on his dick?" Everly asks hopefully.

  "No! Pictures of the elf doing funny stuff around his house." Everly is speechless. "Never mind." I wave a hand.

  "Holy shit. He's in love with you."

  "No." I shake my head. "No, we're just having fun."

  It's a week after Thanksgiving and the first I've seen Everly since before the holiday. We were slammed with customers this morning and now it's finally slowed down enough to catch up.

  "Wait. Would that be a bad thing? If he loved me?" I ask. She seems kind of appalled.

  Everly softens. "Well, no, it's not bad. It's just you're so young."

  "I'm the same age as you," I point out.

  "No, I know." Everly is treading lightly now, which is odd for Everly. "You just don't have a lot of experience with men," she says. "Are you ready to commit to something serious?"

  "I don't know," I reply as I examine the ends of my hair. "This conversation is silly. We've been together less than two months."

  "Do you think this conversation will be easier in a month when you're so far gone in love with him there's no turning back? Will you be happy being with a man who has to run off to the hospital at all hours of the day and night?"

  "His hours aren't that bad, really. Most of his practice is scheduled appointments. Unless he's on call at the hospital."

  "Yeah, most of his practice involves him looking at other women's pussies. Right now you're the hottest pussy he sees, but how will you feel when you're forty and you know he's seeing twenty-year-old pussy at work?"

  "Everly, eww." Of course, now I'm thinking about it.

  "And his family is awful," Everly continues. "Think about all that before you tell me you're just having fun."

  "He sounds like such a catch when you phrase it that way," I reply sarcastically.

  "You're the catch, Sophie. Don't sell yourself short."

  "I'm the child of a teenage mother and I don’t even know who my father is."

  "Your mother has nothing to do with you, Sophie. You made yourself who you are, not her. You're a smart, beautiful girl who will be graduating soon with honors. You're the most caring, responsible person I know."

  "Okay, enough about me. Tell me about your weekend. Did you make any headway with Professor Camden?" I ask her as I pour myself a coffee.

  "I…" Everly starts to say, but then stops. Shaking her head, she says, "I don't know what is going on anymore, Sophie."

  "What do you mean?" It's so odd to see Everly anything less than confident. "You always know what's going on. You have a plan, remember? Six months till graduation, six months to make Finn Camden fall in love with you," I remind her.

  "I know!" She throws her hands up in the air. "I know, I know, but I'm so confused."

  "Is everything okay?" I'm concerned. Everly is off her game and that is rare.

  "Yeah." She nods, as if to reassure herself. Then she looks past me to the counter. "Your stalker is here again."

  I sigh. "Regular customers are not stalkers, Everly. We're a coffee shop. People come in, they get coffee." I walk past her to help the man waiting at the counter and place a big smile on my face, ready to help.

  “Sophie.” The man says my name and pauses, and that split second is all I need to realize that something is not quite right. Why is this man referring to me by name? I know it’s pinned to the front of my apron, but customers rarely use it.

  “Could you sit with me for a few minutes?” he asks, gesturing to the empty tables filling Grind Me.

  What the heck? I glance sideways at Everly. She’s wearing a smug told-you-so expression on her face.

  “Um,” I reply, unsure how to proceed. “I’m working, but thank you.” I give him my best professional smile.

  “I can wait until your break,” he offers. “Or meet you after?”

  Shit.

  I try again. “The thing is, I have a boyfriend. So I don’t think I can meet you after my shift.” I try my professional smile again. I hope I’m getting it right.

  The man smiles in response, but it’s not dejected, it’s amused. “I’m afraid I might be giving you the wrong impression. I wasn’t asking you out.”

  Oh.

  “Besides, I’m far too old for you.”

  “A little young for her, actually,” Everly mutters and the man shoots her a look.

  He pulls a wallet from the breast pocket of his coat and opens it, revealing a badge and an ID, which Everly promptly swipes out of his hand. “My name is Boyd Gallagher,” he says, still looking at me. He pauses, apparently expecting this to mean something to me.

  I shift from foot to foot behind the counter. Am I in some kind of trouble?

  “Feds aren’t really her fetish, but I know a girl at school who’d be so into you,” Everly pipes in, still reviewing the wallet in her hand.

  “Everly!” The stranger and I reply at the same time and it breaks the tension a little. I smile as the man retrieves his wallet from Everly's hand and places it back into his pocket.

  He sighs and runs a hand through his hair before moving his attention back to me. “Sophie, I’m your brother.”

  Chapter 23

  "So what did he want?" Luke asks me later that afternoon.

  "What did he want?" I repeat, slightly annoyed.

  "Yes, Sophie. What did he want?" Luke's voice is clipped. "You wait until today to mention that a man has been hanging out in your coffee shop for over a month watching you work, then today announces that he's your long-lost brother. Why? What does he want?"

  "I don't know," I say quietly. I'm lying down on my dorm bed staring at the ceiling and talking to Luke on the phone. "But I have a brother." I breathe into the phone for a moment before continuing. "You have Meredith, Luke. And Alexander and Bella. I've always wanted a sibling,
or even a cousin. It would be nice to have someone else in the world besides my grandparents.”

  "How do you know he's telling you the truth, Sophie?" Luke says. I can hear the hospital buzzing in the background. I know he's busy but he insisted on talking to me after I texted him this bombshell.

  "We share the same father," I say, my voice wobbling. "His father”—I pause—“our father, was a US Congressman running for a Senate seat when he met my mother. He was twenty years older than her, and married to Boyd’s mother.” I’m humiliated recapping this to Luke.

  “Go on,” Luke encourages.

  “My birth certificate lists my father as unknown. My grandparents had no idea who he could have been and my mom refused to name him. She died before I was two, so I never had the chance to ask her myself. She volunteered for Congressman Gallagher’s Senate campaign the summer before her freshman year of college.”

  "Sophie, whatever your parents did twenty years ago has nothing to do with you and the person you are today."

  "I guess."

  "I know," he counters.

  "He had a picture."

  "What kind of picture?" Luke asks, with an edge to his voice. I can hear hospital alarms beeping in the background, but Luke doesn't rush me, just waits for my response.

  "It was a picture of our dad with my mom. It’s the night he was elected Senator, at the campaign headquarters. They’re in a room full of people and she’s looking at him like she worships him while he’s smiling for the camera.” I swallow and Luke is quiet, listening. "Boyd was ten when I was born. He doesn’t think his mom had any idea about the affair.”

  We're both quiet. Silence on my end of the phone, the buzz of the hospital on Luke's end.

  "I was born during my mom’s freshman year of college.” Straight A’s and she ended up transferring back to a local college. Because of me. “She died in a car accident sometime during her sophomore year of college.” I take a breath. “But until she died, she was receiving monthly payments from Senator Gallagher.”

  "Wow,” Luke says, his voice gentle. I know that voice. It's the I feel sorry for you voice. I've heard it my whole life. I hear a door close and it's suddenly quieter on Luke's end of the phone.

  “Boyd works for the government. Apparently I came up during a background check. He’d never heard a word about me until then.”

  "Sophie, I…" He trails off.

  He what? Feels sorry for me? Is appalled? Needs to cancel all future plans with me?

  "I have to go, Sophie. I'll call you as soon as I can." The line goes dead.

  I can't process anything right now. I'm… no one. I have a half-brother.

  I already called my grandparents in Florida. They had no idea I had a sibling. I look at the silent phone in my hand and scroll through the contacts and make a call.

  A short time later I'm walking into Shay's, a bar I've never been to before, located off campus. It's early when I walk in, quiet. Boyd is sitting in a booth and waves me over as soon as he sees me.

  "Sophie," he says with a warm smile. He looks relieved to see me, like he was afraid I wasn't going to show up.

  "Hey," I reply and take a seat. We stare at each other, neither of us knowing what to say, so I say the only thing possible. “I need a drink.”

  Boyd grins and signals to the waitress. "Thanks for calling, Sophie. I wasn't sure you would."

  "I wasn’t sure I would either.”

  He shrugs and gives me a sad smile. "Yeah." We're quiet then.

  The waitress returns with our drinks and Boyd immediately orders shots for both of us. "You look like you need one," he says.

  "Yeah," I whisper. “Tell me about him.” Senator Gallagher died in his third term of office. I would have been about sixteen.

  Boyd fills me in on things about our father I wouldn’t be able to learn from the internet. He loved pineapple and hated chocolate. He made it a habit never to swear. He taught Boyd how to fish. I filled him in on my childhood with my grandparents. From what Boyd tells me he grew up very differently than I did. His upbringing sounds like what I imagined Luke’s to be. Very privileged and formal.

  The drinks keep arriving and I keep downing them, numbing my emotions. "I think I'm in love with Luke," I slur a short while later. "See?" I pull out my phone and find a picture of Luke and I, a selfie I took of us lying on his couch the weekend after Thanksgiving when we were watching Elf. I hold it up for Boyd to look at.

  "That's great, Sophie. I'm happy for you," Boyd says quietly.

  "He's a doctor." I hiccup. "And I'm classy." I laugh at my own joke. I'm funny. "Oh, shit, he's been calling," I say, looking at my phone. "We've been here a while."

  "I'm sure he doesn't expect you to answer the second he calls," Boyd says reassuringly. "But maybe it's time to get a cab?"

  "Probably," I agree, and then I rest my head on the table.

  Chapter 24

  I awake to a pounding headache and too much light. I close my eyes again. I'm going to throw up. Focus. Reach over and grab your trash can. Do not throw up on your bed, Sophie.

  I open my eyes slowly.

  I have no idea where I am. Holy shit, I have never been this irresponsible in my life. The last twenty-four hours flash in front of me. The coffee shop, Boyd, Luke, Shay's Bar. I don't remember anything past Shay's. I need to call Luke back. Tears prick my eyes as I recall how good he's been to me, and I repaid him by ignoring his calls while I sat in a bar getting drunk with Boyd. I'm horrible.

  "Hey, you're up." It's Boyd. I'm at Boyd's.

  "Bathroom!" I blurt out, and Boyd points to a bathroom en-suite.

  I stumble out of the bed and and make it to the bathroom just in time to throw up in the toilet. I sink to the bathroom floor and wipe my mouth. I feel like crap, I have vomit in my hair and I blew off Luke. I'm in a stranger's apartment. My brother's, sure, but he's still a stranger.

  I stand up and examine myself in the mirror. I look awful. Being irresponsible does not look good on me. I close the toilet lid and sit before realizing my cell phone is in my pocket. Yes! 6:44 AM Friday morning. Eleven missed calls from Luke, Jean and Everly. Six voicemails. Thirty-four text messages.

  I press the button to return Luke's call.

  He answers on the first half ring. "Are you okay?"

  "Yeah," I respond. "I'm—"

  He cuts me off. "Where are you?"

  He's so mad. I don't think my answer is going to help things. "I'm at Boyd's."

  The silence is deafening.

  "Where is Boyd's?"

  "I'm sorry, Luke, I didn't mean to ignore your calls."

  "Where. Is. Boyd's?"

  "I don't know. I don't know where I am."

  Silence.

  "You're okay?" he asks again.

  "Yes." I sigh. "I threw up but I'm fine. I'm in the bathroom."

  "Jesus, Sophie, are you really this young?"

  No, I want to say. No. I'm so mortified. It was stupid to get drunk with someone I don't know. I put my safety in the hands of a stranger. A drunk stranger. I'm lucky the only thing that happened to me was passing out and waking up with a hangover. What if Boyd had passed out too? I could have ended up anywhere. Stupid.

  So I say nothing.

  "Open the map app on your phone and tell me what street you're on."

  I pull the phone away from my ear and do as I'm instructed. "I'm on South Street, somewhere between 13th and 15th."

  "I'll be there in five minutes. Get the exact address from Boyd and text me."

  The line goes dead. He hung up on me. I stand and look at my shitty reflection in the mirror again and use my hand to cup water from the faucet to rinse my mouth out.

  I exit the bedroom and realize I'm in a large loft. A loft I have no recollection of seeing last night.

  "My boyfriend is coming to pick me up."

  "Luke," Boyd states.

  "Uh, yeah. Was I talking about him last night?"

  "Just a little." He laughs.

  "I'm sorry you had
to take care of me."

  Boyd scoffs. "It was no problem."

  "I need to text Luke your address." I wave my phone. "I can't believe I don't know where I'm at. So stupid."

  "You're in college. You're entitled to a little fun."

  I think our idea of fun is different, but I keep that to myself as I text Luke the address. "Have you lived here a long time?" I ask, looking around. There's not much in the way of personal items. It’s a beautiful loft. Big, with views of the city.

  He shrugs. "Less than a year." He tells me about the area while I wait for Luke. I realize we’re less than a mile from Luke’s place in Rittenhouse Square.

  There's a knock on the door and I grab my coat and purse as Boyd opens the door.

  I chance a glance at Luke. He looks exhausted. Boyd is speaking to him but Luke ignores him, his focus entirely on me.

  "Wait in the car."

  I say a quick goodbye to Boyd and get out of there as fast as I can. The mood between Luke and I is so off and I do not want to argue with him in front of Boyd.

  I reach Luke's car and place my hands on the passenger side roof, breathing in and out. I've made it through three and a half years of college without ever being this hungover. I will quite simply die if I vomit in Luke's luxury car.

  I close my eyes and concentrate on breathing, waiting for the nausea to settle while wondering how my mother has managed to mess up my life nineteen years after leaving it. No, this isn't on her. It's on me. I'm the same person I was yesterday. Learning the name of the missing person on my birth certificate doesn't give me the right to throw away the life I've made for myself.

  A hand comes to rest on my back. "You okay?"

  I nod and Luke opens the passenger door and gets me settled before circling the car and getting behind the wheel. We drive in silence down Broad Street. It's just past 7:00 AM and traffic is picking up. The speeding up and slowing down are making me feel worse and I'm focused on not vomiting, so I don't immediately notice that Luke is taking me back to his Rittenhouse Square condo and not my dorm.