Steadfast (True North, #2)

by Sarina Bowen

“Thing is, I’m not convinced you’re as good a girl as everyone thinks.” “That’s ridiculous,” I said immediately. Because I was exactly as good as everyone thought. And I was really freaking sick of it.

I didn’t mean to hold a torch for someone who had broken my family, gone to jail and then refused all my letters.

I wore the memory of Sophie like an imprint on my soul.

The porch light glowed the same warm yellow as the neighbors’. Appearances lie, though. There was nothing warm and cozy at our house. Just three people swimming through their own pain.

We’d just started seeing each other, and she’d made sure I knew it was her birthday. I’d brought a fancy bakery cupcake to school in a plastic box so it wouldn’t get crushed. At lunch we sat in my car so I could light a candle for her and taste the frosting on her lips after she ate it.

So much for showing him what he’d given up. The only thing I’d showed him was that I was nuts.

But it takes courage to want things, and to pursue them. Staying numb means you can never be disappointed.”

“I’m saying that I want to believe in our future, and you’re telling me not to bother.”

Her instructions didn’t leave any room for argument—she just ordered me to show up. That pissed me off for about two seconds, maybe three. Then I spent the next twenty-four hours counting down until I could see Sophie, if only for a few minutes.

On the other side of the glass, Sophie continued to sing, her gorgeous voice cutting through every one of my defenses. The first time I ever heard her sing we were really just kids. Right away I’d wanted to be a man for her—to take good care of all that beauty.

That’s what Sophie had done to me today—forced my cranky self to be optimistic. She walked into this building every day and helped people find their own miracles. She’d been trying to help me find mine, too. Like a jackass, I hadn’t let her.

Enough worrying about what we deserve. Let’s appreciate what we have.”

“The only thing I have ever been afraid of is losing you.” Sophie snorted into my shirt. “So why did you say we couldn’t be together?” She didn’t add “dumbass” to the end of that sentence, but I heard it anyway.

“Even when you’re not perfect, you’re still mine.”

“Shh, it’s okay.” And it was. Griff dropped down to the floor and actually sat on the Chief of Police, holding down his arms so he couldn’t start swinging.

“Dad was… I got caught snooping,” she stammered. “Okay. It’s okay now.” I rocked her. “My mother broke a lamp over his head.” “Your mom is a badass.”

All we can do is listen harder, hug harder and hope for the best.