CHAPTER ONE

 

SOPHIA

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I'm sitting in my car at a crossroads, frustration bubbling up inside me because I'm lost. I glance down at my phone, the empty bars mocking me. Worms begin to squirm in the pit of my stomach because there’s no reception out here in the middle of nowhere, nor has there been for miles.

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I'm supposed to be on my way to Seattle for Belle's wedding. Belle, my gorgeous best friend who has everything going for her—the looks, the confidence, the wonderful fiancé. I should be used to living in her shadow, but it still stings a little. I’d never take anything away from her. She’s beautiful, kind and generous. She deserves all the good things life can bring. I’m so happy for her, but…one day. One day I’d like the same things for myself.

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Turning to look out the window, I take in the two roads stretched out before me. One leads off toward the horizon, flat and straight. The other twists up into the mountains, the trees dark and looming. Without really knowing why, I’m aware of an insistent tug deep in my gut, like something is pulling me toward those shadowy peaks. It's probably just my overactive imagination running wild, but for a second I swear the pendant I never take off that’s nestled between my breasts grows warm against my skin.

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Before I can think better of it, I'm pressing down on the gas, steering the car along the winding mountain road. I'm traveling alone for this trip after Peter, my boyfriend of two years, decided to break things off. Well, ex-boyfriend now, I remind myself with a pang. He wanted someone more exciting, he said. Something…more, and I was holding him back from everything he wanted. As the words echo in my mind, I can't help but agree with him, despite the hurt.

I'm not exciting.

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Not by a long shot.

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Plain, dumpy Sophia… that's me. My hips and breasts are too big, my curves too soft and shapeless to be considered truly attractive. I'm small, shorter than I should be for my curvy figure. My hair is an unremarkable flat brown, my eyes the same muddy color. Olive skin that just looks sallow and dull next to Belle's golden glow. I'm the plain Jane of my Italian heritage, fading into the background like a little brown mouse.

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Even at work, I’m forgotten while my more vivacious colleagues get all the big, exciting projects. I'm capable of designing bigger and better projects, I know I am, but people just...overlook me. My mama always says I'll find my place where people can see me for who I really am, but I'm not so sure. Will anyone ever really see plain, boring me?

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The sky has turned an ominous shade of gray, the first taps of rain splattering on the windshield as I flip on my headlights. Of course the weather would turn bleak to match my mood. Belle was always the shining star, even when we were kids. I remember one high school dance where she literally wore a black garbage bag as a dress and still managed to snag the hottest guy there while I trailed beside her, unseen. They nearly forgot to add me to the yearbook that time.

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She'd get so frustrated on my behalf, calling people out for overlooking me. I could see the surprise on their faces when she pointed me out, like they genuinely hadn't noticed me standing right there next to her radiant presence.

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Don't get me wrong, I love Belle to pieces and I've missed her like crazy since we went our separate ways after high school. Now she's marrying her soulmate, a renowned surgeon, and I couldn't be happier for her. She deserves every bit of the joy and love headed her way.

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A tiny, selfish part of me can't help but wish for that kind of happiness for myself, though. The kind of all-consuming love and passion that exists only in the pages of my guilty-pleasure romance novels. I know I'll never find that reality, resigning myself to living vicariously through the smexy heroes and heroines on my e-reader instead.

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But I won't let any of my own hangups take away from Belle's big day. She's going to look radiant as she walks down the aisle, I just know it. And I'll be there, her shadow once again, but beaming with pride for my best friend all the same.

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That's if I even get to Seattle at this rate. I crank the windshield wipers up to their highest setting as rain buckets down in sheets. Visibility is dangerously low. I can barely make out the steep valley dropping away on my right through the deluge.

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I slow the car to a cautious crawl, peering through the gloom for any sign of a turnoff or wider shoulder where I can turn around. But the narrow road just winds higher and higher into the mountains, the trees crowding in thicker until their shadowy trunks blot out what little light filters through from the stormy sky. It feels like I've climbed up into the belly of the clouds themselves.

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A quick glance at my phone confirms there's still no signal up here. Of course not. I'm completely alone, cut off from the world on this forsaken mountain road. A tendril of unease snakes through me. If something happened out here, would anyone even know where to look for me?

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As I round another sharp curve, a bright pop of color catches my eye—a cheery red sign with 'Welcome to Willowbrook' painted in looping white script. A pang of relief courses through me at the sight of the name. Civilization, at last! As I pass beneath the sign, though, a strange static charge seems to crackle over my skin, making the fine hairs on my arms stand on end. Weird...but I shake it off, just relieved to be getting somewhere.

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Sure enough, just a little farther up the road, the warm yellow glow of a diner's windows beckons out of the gloom like a beacon. 'Sally's Diner' promises the well-maintained sign above the door as I pull into the gravel parking lot, rain still pounding down in a torrent. Even through the blurred windshield, I can make out the comforting shapes of people inside, chatting and eating. A strange sense of peace settles over me at the homey sight. This is the perfect place to wait out the storm and get my bearings.

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Moving quickly, I throw open the car door and make a mad dash through the downpour, boots splashing into deep puddles before I reach the diner's covered entrance. The little bells tied to the door jingle merrily as I shoulder my way inside, leaving a wet trail in my wake.

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I stand there dripping onto the Welcome mat, pushing sodden strands of hair out of my face as I take in my new surroundings. So much for being a mouse. Right now I'm a drowned rat. Of course, that's when I finally register the weight of several pairs of eyes trained directly on me. The low murmur of conversation has fallen away, leaving me center stage in the sudden silence. Awesome. Just what I need, more attention drawn to my pathetic, soggy self.

The prickly sense of unease returns as a tall figure rises from one of the booths and strides down the narrow aisle between the seats. He's well over six feet tall, with broad shoulders and a powerful, muscular build that fills the entire space. Chiseled jaw, cheekbones you could cut yourself on, and a shock of artfully tousled dark hair that has a single rogue strand curling over one vivid blue eye. He's easily the most devastatingly handsome man I've ever laid eyes on. My nipples tighten involuntarily beneath my damp sweater as that molten gaze sweeps over me.

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I turn to glance behind me, certain he must be heading for someone else—there's no way this Adonis of a man is coming toward plain little me. But there's no one else in the entryway. Whipping my head back around in confusion, my breath catches as I realize, yes, he's definitely headed straight for me. Those brilliant blue eyes are locked right on mine, full lips curved in the barest hint of a smile as he crosses the last few feet to where I stand rooted to the spot.

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