Chapter 270 Cupid

Chapter 270 Cupid

Sophia pulled Ethan's arm and stepped back two paces toward the other side of the dance floor.

Her smile was too bright, like she was trying too hard.

Ethan glanced down at her.

"Sophia."

"Yeah?"

"Was this your idea, or Chris's?"

Sophia's smile faltered.

"What idea? It's just switching partners, standard procedure. The host literally said 'switch partners.'"

"You pushed him."

Sophia's mouth snapped shut.

Ethan didn't press further. He placed one hand on her waist, maintaining proper form, and the two of them turned slowly to the music.

Sophia looked down at the floor, scrambling for an explanation.

"Okay, it was my idea." She lowered her voice.

Ethan said nothing. He was waiting.

"I think my brother likes Abigail."

Ethan's fingers tightened slightly at her waist.

"He doesn't know it himself, or he knows but won't admit it." Sophia looked up, meeting his gaze. "But I grew up with him. I can tell when he cares about someone."

Ethan's expression barely shifted.

"Sophia, are you sure you're seeing what's actually there, and not what you want to see?"

Sophia froze.

"You liked someone before. Had a crush for six years, then found out he treated everyone the same way. Don't you think maybe you're projecting now?"

Sophia opened her mouth, then closed it again.

How did he know about that?

She glanced at Ethan.

Oh, right.

This guy could dig up anything.

"I'm not trying to discourage you." Ethan guided her around another couple. "But if Chris really likes Abigail, he should come talk to me himself. He doesn't need you running interference. If he can't even do that, he's not ready."

Sophia bit her lip.

"So what are you saying?"

"Don't play matchmaker. Let him handle his own business."

Sophia lowered her head and said nothing more.

Abigail stood by the main table with three young men lined up in front of her, each holding a wine glass, wearing polite but eager smiles.

"Ms. Hubbard, may I have the next dance?"

"Ms. Hubbard, this song has a great rhythm, shall we?"

"I'm fine being third in line."

Abigail glanced at them, a hint of helplessness tugging at her mouth.

Ethan stood three steps away, holding his glass, perfectly still. He didn't run interference for his sister, just watched quietly.

Abigail accepted the first person's invitation and followed him onto the dance floor.

Her steps were much lighter than when she'd danced with Ethan earlier—she'd probably loosened up by now.

Sophia stood by the dessert table, holding a piece of tiramisu, her gaze fixed on Abigail on the dance floor.

"Sophia."

Mira's voice came from behind her.

Sophia turned to see Mira and Nova standing side by side, wearing identical expressions.

The kind that said they'd already coordinated.

Sophia's instincts immediately kicked in.

"Mom, what are you doing?"

"Nothing." Mira grabbed her arm. "Mrs. Hubbard said Ethan looks too lonely standing there by himself. Go keep him company for a dance."

Nova nodded cooperatively beside her. "Sophia, do me a favor."

Sophia's mouth twitched.

She wanted to say it wasn't necessary.

Wanted to say he had plenty of dance partners.

Wanted to say she'd already danced once and her feet hurt.

But with both mothers staring her down, that kind of pressure wasn't something one person could easily resist.

"Fine."

She put down the tiramisu, wiped the crumbs from her fingers, and walked toward Ethan.

Ethan saw her approaching and raised an eyebrow slightly.

"Mr. Hubbard, one more dance?" Sophia's tone was casual.

Ethan glanced behind her. Mira and Nova stood there, pretending to chat while sneaking glances in their direction.

He probably understood what had happened.

"Okay."

The two walked back onto the dance floor.

Ethan's hand rested on her waist, his posture textbook, the distance appropriate, just like before.

Sophia followed his steps for half a turn, her thoughts spiraling.

She hadn't planned to bring this up again.

Last time at home, Chris had shown her Ethan's response. Ethan said he'd always seen her as a sister.

That message was crystal clear.

She'd also said she wouldn't pursue him anymore.

But now, standing here, his hand on her waist, music in her ears, the lighting just right.

Her heart started acting up again.

"Sophia." Ethan spoke first.

"Yeah?"

"If you want to say something, just say it. Don't hold it in."

Sophia looked up at him.

She took a deep breath.

"Ethan."

His steps paused briefly.

"I like you."

She said it so fast, she didn't even process it herself.

No buildup, no buffer, none of those careful strategies Chris had taught her.

She just said it.

Ethan's hand stilled at her waist. He didn't let go, but didn't tighten his grip either.

He looked at her, silent.

The music continued, people around them kept dancing, someone turned past them, their dress hem brushing against Sophia's calf.

Sophia stared into his eyes. She waited about five seconds.

He didn't speak.

She smiled.

It wasn't a happy smile, more like a "yeah, I knew it" kind of smile.

"Never mind, forget I said anything."

The last note of the song fell.

Sophia released his hand, stepped back, turned and walked toward the exit.

She didn't run. Her steps weren't rushed. She even grabbed a cookie from the dessert table on her way out.

As she walked out the side door of the hall, the night breeze hit her and she shivered.

The garden was quiet. Light from the hall's floor-to-ceiling windows spilled out onto the stone path.

Sophia walked to a bench and sat down. She broke the cookie in half, put one half in her mouth, and held the other half in her hand.

She chewed twice, barely tasting anything.

She looked up at the sky.

There weren't many stars, just a few scattered ones.

"Sophia."

Her hand jerked and the cookie fell onto her dress.

Ethan stood by the bench, his hands in his pockets.

When did he follow her out?

Sophia didn't stand up. She looked down and brushed the crumbs off her dress.

"Why did you come out? There are still guests inside."

Ethan didn't answer that question. He walked in front of her and stopped.

"What you said just now, I heard it."

"I know you heard it, you're not deaf."

Ethan looked at her.

"Sophia, you're twenty-four. I'm thirty-two. We're eight years apart."

Sophia looked up.

"I've always seen you as a sister, not because there's anything wrong with you. It's because of the age gap, our history, and a lot of practical factors. I can't see you any other way."

Sophia stared at his face. One second, two seconds, three seconds.

Then she stood up.

"Ethan, are you done?"

Ethan looked at her.

Sophia's voice wasn't loud, but it was steady. "You're using age as an excuse? You're thirty-two, not fifty-two. I'm twenty-four, not fourteen."

"Sophia."