Until I'm Yours (31 page)

T
revor, we should get up.” I lift up on one elbow, running my nail between his pecs. “It’s late.”

“Is it?” He groggily opens one eye. “That must be why I’m starving.”

“Me, too. I wonder if there’s any—”

A heavy knock on the door cuts me off. The wrinkle between my eyebrows matches the one between Trevor’s.

“I hope you’re decent,” a muffled voice says testily through the door, “because I’m coming in.”

Stil steps into the room, a hand shielding her eyes.

“I hate to interrupt this love fest, but—”

“You stayed here all night, Stil?” I pull the sheet up over my naked breasts and shoulders.

“Of course I stayed,” Stil snaps, dropping the hand from her eyes. “Well, hello there.”

I follow her eyes to Trevor’s bare chest above the sheets. I yank the covers over him up to his chin while he just chuckles.

“Keep your eyes to yourself and off my boyfriend, hussy.”

“Oh, so
now
you claim him.” Stil’s smile widens, eyes ping-ponging between Trevor and me.

“What’s it look like to you?” I toss my head back, laughing like a lunatic because the happiness reaches into madness. Reaches into idiocy, it’s so far beyond what I can contain. Trevor’s eyes laugh back at me, and I think he’s as happy as I am. I think that’s how this works.

“Well, as delighted as I am for you both,” Stil says, eyes sobering, “the world is waiting. You gotta get up, Sof.”

“Waiting?” I slink down lower into the covers. “Get up for what?”

‘’Breakfast, for one.” Trevor gestures to Stil. “Maybe you could get on with this so I can go cook us something.”

“I want a Denver omelet,” I whisper from beneath the sheet covering my mouth.

“Geena’s been calling you all morning.” Stil walks closer, phone in hand, carefully averting her eyes from any parts of Trevor uncovered. “I can’t hold her off much longer.”

“What’s she want?” I mumble, hoping it isn’t more fallout from the disastrous perfume release. “Is it about yesterday?”

“In a way.” A hint of a smile touches Stil’s lips. “Apparently, someone very important saw the press conference yesterday.”

“Half the world did.” I swallow the embarrassment working itself into my throat at the memory of the word “whore” scrawled behind me.

“This is a volunteer from Kyle’s campaign.” Stil gives a dramatic pause, lifting her penciled brows. “Who wonders if you meant it when you said you would stand with anyone who came forward against Kyle Manchester.”

Trevor and I go still at the same time, our eyes finding each other’s across the sheets.

“Is she saying—”

“She won’t say any more than that to anyone but you.” Stil extends her phone. “Thus Geena calling every five minutes to see if you’re still in here fucking.”

That makes twice in a week I’ve blushed, a record for my cheeks. Trevor just laughs, shaking his head and leaning back against the headboard, completely unabashed. If the media could see their “saint” now.

“Have her come here to the apartment.” I need to shower. My hand flies up to my hair. “And wash my hair.”

“
Wash
your hair?” Stil leans forward with her hands on her hips. “Just wash? Oh, it’s a rescue mission, baby.”

“It can’t be that bad.” I run my hand over the choppy strands.

“You look like the Bride of Chucky, and that’s an insult to her.” Stil narrows one eye, assessing the mess I made. “Lucky for you I graduated from the best cosmetology school in Jersey.”

She heads toward the bathroom, signaling for me to follow.

“Jersey?!”
I mouth to Trevor, eyes wide and panicked.

An hour later, I’m clean, and Stil has unbotched the botched haircut, turning my head to various angles so she can admire her handiwork.

“Much better. It’ll do for now.” Stil lays the shears on the marble counter. “You should have done this years ago.”

“What?” Sarcasm twists my lips. “Had a nervous breakdown?”

“No, cut your hair.” Stil nods decisively. “It’s kinda Mia Farrow.”

I have to agree. With all the blond hair gone, and the silvery cap of hair close and tight, longer in the front and dipping over one eye, I look sophisticated in a completely different way. And somehow lighter.

“I can see it now.” Stil frames her hands as if around a movie Mylar. “The haircut that everyone’s asking for: the Sofie.”

“Uh-huh, okay.” I stand and brush excess hair from my shoulders. “We can discuss the cultural impact of my hair later. She’ll be here any minute, right?”

“I think you’ll have just enough time to eat whatever that man of yours has smelling so good.” Stil glances at the text message from Geena. “They’re about twenty minutes away.”

I nod, smearing on a little lipstick and sliding studs into my earlobes.

“So he’s the one, huh?” Stil asks softly, meeting my eyes in the mirror.

I can’t stop the smile that splits my expression open. Even with this development, this possible breakthrough in the case against Kyle. Even with the memory of yesterday still lingering, nothing distracts me from the fact that Trevor loves me back.

“Yeah, he’s the one.”

Later, he sits beside me on the couch, holding my hand, eyes set on the young woman seated across from us. She can’t be much older than I was when Kyle raped me. Twenty? Twenty-one? I squeeze Trevor’s hand tighter, the memory of the broken girl I was after that night rising up to mock my confidence.

Geena’s taking her turn grilling Tanya. Next will be my lawyer, Connor. Then I’m sure Karen will have questions of her own. Everyone wants to get this right, to not squander this chance that has dropped into our laps. The chance to bring Kyle Manchester down once and for all.

“So you volunteer with Manchester’s campaign?” Geena probes from beside the young woman, Tanya.

“Yes,” she says softly, not looking up from the flats on her feet. “I signed up about a month ago.”

She gives her head a quick shake, running a nervous hand through her light brown hair.

“I believed in him. I thought he was…I thought he was the real deal, but he wasn’t. He’s not.”

“What happened?” Geena flicks her eyes from Tanya to me.

“One night he asked me to stay back to help him with some demographic projections.” Tanya swallows, closing her eyes. “I thought it would be the whole team, but it was just us in his office. He kept touching me and trying to kiss me. When I finally told him no and that I didn’t think it was appropriate, he lost it.”

She draws a ragged breath across her lips.

“He…he raped me.”

“I hate to be indelicate,” I speak for the first time since we greeted each other. “But he raped me, too. He raped Shaunti Miller, but neither of us has any proof. Do you have any…well, were you examined after the attack? Or do you have proof?”

“I wasn’t examined,” she says, making my heart sink. “But I did take pictures.”

My head jerks up.

“You took pictures? You have proof?” I grip Trevor’s hand probably to the point of breaking.

“I thought no one would believe me.” She bites her bottom lip before glancing up at me. “I saw that they didn’t believe you. Not only do I have pictures, but I have a check.”

“A check?” Geena asks, voice eager and curious. “For what?”

“His campaign manager gave me hush money.” The cynical laugh doesn’t fit anything about Tanya. “He actually thought he could buy me off. I wasn’t sure what to do, so I just let him think it was cool. That it would just go away.”

She looks at me, her head tilted.

“Until yesterday, when I saw that press conference, Ms. Baston,” she says. “Did you mean it when you said you’d stand with anyone who came forward?”

I can barely breathe. Finally a break in the clouds. A chance. Our best chance to discredit Kyle. My best chance to get my life back and move on with Trevor.

“I did mean it.” I steel my voice against the tears that would make it waver. “And I’m ready when you are.”

I
place the flat black jewelry box on Sofie’s pillow. Then I move it to the center of the bed. Then to the foot. I’m just about to find some other conspicuous spot on the bed when she walks in, pulling up short when she sees the box in my hand. She walks over to me, hand outstretched, palm up.

“Mine, I presume?”

Her eager smile chases away some of her fatigue. The last few weeks have been tough, but worth it. When Tanya’s allegations came out, she not only toppled Kyle’s chance for a successful senatorial bid, but also Ernest’s hopes of getting the Bennett board to vote against Walsh. The criminal charges filed against Kyle and his arrest have rendered him completely useless in Ernest’s pursuit to lead Bennett. Without the political favors as a bargaining chip, board members fell in line with Martin’s wishes and original intention to pass the reins to Walsh. I can finally taste my future with Sofie. So sweet.

“Yes, it’s for you.” I stretch my arm up over my head, putting it out of her reach. “But you have to sit down first. I have this whole thing worked out.”

“You have a thing?” She sits on the edge of the bed, head titled and eyes glued to the black box. “Well, do your thing, Mr. Bishop.”

I squat down in front of her, placing the jewelry box on the floor and taking her hands in mine. My heart sprints in my chest. It feels like I have a plastic bag over my head every time I try to breathe. My fucking fingers are actually shaking a little. But I’m doing this.

She’s the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. Sometimes she smiles, and my heart stops in my chest, awed by it. It seems to me that the more she learns about herself, about who she is beneath the beauty the world can’t get past, the more beautiful she becomes. Her beauty isn’t a flimsy thing, but it’s girded by character and strength.

I’ve never wanted anything as badly as I want her for myself.

“Sofie, have you ever wondered what would have happened if we’d met at Princeton?”

Her eyes fly to my face, wide, somehow surprised.

“Um, yeah.” She drops her eyes to the hands in her lap. “I’ve thought about it a few times. I wish we had.”

“I’m kind of glad we didn’t.” I smile when she shoots me an uncertain glance. “What I mean is that I know it would have been wrong then. I needed all these years to become the man who could handle you. You needed that time to experience the hard things, the things that made you strong. Frankly, beautiful or not, I wouldn’t have looked twice at you then. I was too young to see beyond my assumptions to your potential. We found each other when we were supposed to.”

And I have no plans of ever letting go.

I pick up the jewelry box. She clasps her hands together, grinning and tugging at her bottom lip with her teeth. She takes the box and stares at it for a moment.

“What is it?”

“I think that’s why people open gifts, Sof.”

She rolls her eyes, mouth tilting to the side as she carefully lifts the lid, her eyes lighting up when she sees what’s embedded in the plane of dark velvet.

It’s a seed. It’s been in my suitcase ever since I got back from my last trip. I wasn’t sure when…or how…or why I wanted to give this to her, but now I know.

“Do you remember the Ugandan proverb?” I curve one palm around her face, tilting it up so I can see her eyes. “From my office?”

“Sow seeds.” She caresses the small seed with one finger. “Wait and see what comes with the rain.”

“The seed, everything you see on the outside, is a hard coat. A protective shell.” I trail my finger over her hand holding the jewelry box. “The plant is under the shell and has to be awakened, and all of what we see on the outside has to fall away.”

She nods, her eyes locked with mine. Her expression intent, absorbed.

“Over the last few weeks, I’ve gotten to see you in this process.” I grab the hand resting in her lap, twisting my fingers around hers so she can’t ever let go.

“You’ve discarded the trappings, the outside, and have awakened the part of you that is really alive. Germination is a kind of death, and it’s painful.” I pull her close enough to kiss her lips, but I don’t allow myself that just yet. “You’ve experienced that pain, and you’ve had a lot of rain fall in your life. And now we see what has come after the rain.”

I trace one high cheekbone with my thumb.

“I want you to know it’s beautiful to me. Your passion, your courage and strength, all while being absolutely, unequivocally yourself. Flaws and all.” I pause, staring at our clasped hands for a moment. “I don’t know that we would have seen all of that without the pain. Without the rain.”

Tears cling to her lashes, falling as she blinks.

“You’ve been with me through all the rain, Bishop.” She raises her eyes to my face. “Most wouldn’t have stood with me when there were no guarantees that I’d win against Kyle.”

But she will. Now with her story, and the undeniable proof Tanya has provided, Kyle arrested and awaiting trial, she will. Even if that wasn’t assured, I wouldn’t want to wait.

“Sofie, I know there are still things that have to happen.” Something that’s half a grimace, half a grin shapes my mouth. “But let’s not wait.”

Sofie’s brows knit over the confusion of her eyes.

“Wait for what? What do you mean?”

“You remember I told you how my father felt about my mom? That it was urgent?” I wait for her to nod before pressing forward. “That’s how I feel about you. About us. I wanted to take everything slow, Sof, and we did, but I’m past slow. It’s
urgent
to me that you know today what I want.”

Her lashes lift, and I see the question forming in her eyes. Before it can make it to her lips, I carefully remove the seed from its velvet bed, and open her palm.

“I know it’s unconventional.” My voice almost fails me as those green eyes, clear as glass, blink back at me. “And I promise I’ll get you an actual ring, but this felt right to me. Today. Right now. I have to ask you this.”

“Bishop, what—”

“Will you marry me?”

All the air swooshes from her chest, through her mouth. Her eyes widen and her mouth falls open and then snaps closed.

“Bishop, I—”

“Say yes.” I lean forward, caressing the skin behind her neck. “I don’t want to wait for the smoke to clear or for everything to make sense. I have to know today that you’ll be mine forever, Sof.”

“This business with Kyle still has—”

“No bearing on whether or not you love me. On if we’ll spend the rest of our lives together.”

“There’s still such a cloud hanging over me, though,” she whispers.

I lift her chin, swiping my thumb over the tear streaking down her cheek.

“There’s no cloud,” I tell her, cupping her chin. “Not between you and me. The world can go to hell. Remember I told you once that you should follow the fire, find out what burns inside you and let it guide you?”

She lays her forehead against mine, nodding, one hand slipping behind my neck, fingers sliding in my hair.

“You, Sofie Baston, are my fire.” My voice withers for a second, simply failing with the emotion of the truth. I swallow, determined to say these words. “What I feel for you guides me. Guided me right to you. To this moment. Forget the rest of the world.”

I lean in to kiss her, melding our mouths, licking into her sweet heat.

“I’ve never seen anything more beautiful than you, Sofie.” I punctuate the words with kisses. “Your strength, your courage, your conviction. Don’t ever think you’re not good enough for me. I only hope I can be good enough for
you
because you, darlin’, are damn magnificent.”

“Bishop, I—”

“Say yes,” I mumble against her lips. “Baby, say yes.”

She pulls back just enough to search my face, to probe my eyes, which I know reflect how absolutely sure I am about this. A smile starts in her eyes and works its way to her mouth. She closes her fingers over the seed tightly, protecting it in her palm. I hold my breath, waiting for her to give voice to what I see in her eyes. Waiting for her to seal what we feel right now into forever.

“Yes.”