Jay and Sofia chat

“Well… I realized today that I don’t actually have a go-to comfort show,” I say, taking another bite of my cookie. Glancing over at her, she has this expression like she doesn’t quite understand. “You know, nothing that I throw on when I’m sitting around. Seems like I should have one, but I don’t.”

She huffs out a laugh and glances toward the TV. “Yeah… that’s basically what this is.”

I follow her eyes to the paused cooking show. “Then why do you have it paused?”

“I don’t know,” she admits, pulling one of her legs up so her shin is touching my arm and her knee is resting closer to the top of the couch. Once she’s settled, she wraps her arms around her folded leg. “I just turned it on for background noise in the first place. I have no idea why I paused it when I went into the kitchen right before you got here.”

“Habit?” I offer.

“No,” she says a little uncertainly and looks back at me. “I rarely ever seem to watch anything myself. It’s usually something on for the boys. But these days, if it’s too quiet, it’s like my brain doesn’t shut off.”

I nod once. “I get that.”

She studies me for a second. “So what do you do instead, if you don’t have a go-to?”

“I’m definitely more of a movie person,” I say. “If I’m putting something on, I have a lot more luck finding something if I just throw on a movie I’ve already seen. Doesn’t matter what. Just… something I don’t have to pay attention to.”

She shrugs to one side. “Isn’t that kinda the same thing as just putting on a show you’ve already seen?”

“Maybe. But for whatever reason, I can find something easier when it’s a movie.”

She pulls her foot in tighter toward her butt, glancing back at the screen, then back to me. “I guess I was never the biggest TV or movie person.”

I nod and take another bite. “Okay, then what was your go-to?”

She smiles faintly, and pauses for a second. “I guess it was still TV, I just wasn’t very invested in it. When I was putting something on, it was usually something I’ve seen before, and that’s only because Carlos probably had me watch it. I guess I want to be distracted, but not enough to have to try to figure out what’s going on. Just enough to keep my mind from wandering.”

“Yeah, exactly.”

I don’t know what else to say for a second, so we end up sitting there, neither of us saying anything. Normally I’d be fine with it, but this is all still new. I start to worry about whether or not she’s fine with it. It’s a prime example of why my brain needs the distraction, so it doesn’t go down a rabbit hole.

She reaches for the remote after a few seconds, glancing at me. “You okay with background noise, or is it going to be a problem if it’s not a movie?”

I smirk. “I think I can handle it.”

“Good,” she says, unpausing the show, though her attention doesn’t really go back to it. “Because I’m not sitting here in silence.”

“Great, because you’re a horrible conversationalist, and it’s making the silence awkward,” I say as deadpan as I can.

Sofia scoffs at my comment and nudges me with her knee. “I am not! I just spend more time talking to kids these days. And that really doesn’t take a whole lot more than sounding surprised about whatever they’re telling me.”

The conversation just sort of rolls on from there. We laugh at the stupid shit. We eat cookies, which means she has one, while I eat enough to have not counted. She eventually cuddles in next to me, so that her thigh is pressed against mine, and rests her head on my shoulder. When she does, my arm goes around her and her hand rests on my stomach.

After a while, she tilts her head up. “I’m starting to get hungry. Are you planning to stick around?”

“Yeah. As long as that’s cool, anyway.”

“Of course,” she says with a smile. “Then how about we figure out dinner?”

I nod in response. “Okay, what’re we making?”

She shakes her head, reaching for her phone on the coffee table.

“Uh-uh. I’m not making anything tonight,” she says. “No kids tonight means I’m officially off duty, so we’re ordering. I think I’ve earned a night where someone else cooks for me.”

I grin. “I’m in, as long as I’m not the one picking it up this time. I’ve had enough of getting people’s food for the day.”

She just concentrates on her phone and starts scrolling through delivery apps. “Deal. What are you in the mood for?”

“I’m honestly not picky. Whatever you want.”

She furrows her brow, taps a few more times, then tilts her phone so I can see it too. After a few minutes of eliminating options, she places the order, sets the phone down, and stretches her arms over her head. The tank top rides up, showing a thin strip of skin above the waistband of her shorts, and I try not to stare too obviously. I’m pretty sure I failed, but I’m also pretty sure she doesn’t mind.

“Forty-five minutes,” she says. “Want to watch the sunset while we wait? It’s been pretty nice out lately.”

“Yeah, sure. Lead the way.”

She stands, leading me through the house and out a set of French doors that open onto the back patio. The second we step out, I’m just floored.

The backyard is ridiculous. The immediate covered patio is probably the size of my apartment, with a long dining table and an outdoor kitchen that even includes a couple of minifridges. There’s also a long infinity-edge pool that stretches across a good patch of the yard. Beyond that, the yard drops down in tiers with couple different seating spots. There are outdoor couches with cushions in one area, a fire pit area with chairs circled around it in another, as well as a big grass area that looks picture perfect. Just off to the side of the pool, there’s a covered pergola with more seating and some string lights hanging in it.

“Jesus,” I mutter. “This is your backyard?”

She glances back at me, amused. “You’ve never seen it before?”

“No. I’ve only ever made it as far as the kitchen the one time I did a delivery, and then the areas you showed me on my birthday. This is next-level.”

She shrugs like it’s no big deal and walks toward one of the seating areas closer to the pool with a low sectional and a big coffee table. She takes a seat and pats the spot next to her.

I follow, taking it all in. The grass catches my eye again. It’s a bright green, thick and perfect.

“Is that… astroturf?” I ask, finding it hard to believe it’s not.

She snorts. “No. It’s real. We have a guy who comes twice a week. If Carlos had his way, it’d be a putting green. But there’s no way I want landscapers here practically every day to maintain that.”

I scoff. “Pfft. Right? I mean, the gall,” I say, sarcastic but joking.

She shakes her head, and we settle in. When I sit back into the corner of the couch, she grabs my arm, lifting it so she can sit with her back against the side of my chest and her legs stretching down the cushions as she faces the sunset more directly. My arm ends up resting on her so that my forearm is across the top of her chest with my hand holding her shoulder. The air’s cooling off, but the sun hasn’t quite set yet, casting an orangish hue over everything.

Sofia lets her head fall back on my shoulder. “This is nice. Just sitting here like this. No one asking for snacks or juice.”

“Yeah,” I say. “I’m usually still darting through traffic at this time.”

She turns her face and looks up, pursing her lips. I quickly take the hint and twist to lean in and give her a kiss.

“Thanks for coming over.”

“I’m glad you invited me.”

We don’t talk much after that. She seems like she’s enjoying the peace, so we just sit and watch the sky change colors. Her hands find my forearm, and her head leans to the side, placing her cheek on my hand where it’s resting atop her shoulder. I just rub my thumb into the crook of her neck, giving her that moment.

The delivery guy shows up right as the sun dips below the horizon. Telling me to stay, she goes to get the food herself, and brings it back down to where we’re sitting. We spread everything on the coffee table, which I realize also has a built-in firepit running down the center of it under a metal cover.

Once she’s got it all laid out, she passes me a set of plastic utensils. “Here. Eat. Before it gets any colder.”

We do it family-style, passing the different items back and forth, and sharing what we each ordered. The food’s good, but I can only imagine what it would be like if it were fresh in the restaurant she chose. When she steals the last bite of one of my items, I pretend to be mad about it.

Enjoying the story? You can support my work on Patreon where this story is currently through chapter 142 at the time of this posting. Happy reading!