39. Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Thirty-Nine
I had finished the bouquet and then stored all them in their rightful places, before going inside. I didn’t know if I should bother Theo or go back to my room for now. I stepped into the house, closing the door behind me softly before making my way to the kitchen.
I blinked seeing Theo there sitting at the counter with his iPad. I lingered in the doorway, unsure whether to disturb him. He seemed absorbed in whatever he was reading, his brow furrowed in concentration as he swiped through what looked like data charts. I was about to retreat when he spoke without looking up.
"You can come in, Vivian. I heard you approaching."
I shouldn't have been surprised—Alpha hearing was notoriously acute—but it still startled me how aware they all seemed to be of my presence.
"Sorry to interrupt," I said, moving into the kitchen. "I finished the bouquets and thought I'd come inside for a while."
Theo adjusted his glasses, his analytical gaze softening slightly when he saw me. "You're not interrupting. I was just reviewing some background information on our suspect while the others conduct the interview."
I moved further into the kitchen, drawn by curiosity despite my anxiety about the case. "Anything you can share?"
Theo hesitated, seeming to weigh how much information to give me. Finally, he set his tablet down and gestured to the stool beside him. "Sit. Would you like some tea? I just made a pot."
"That would be nice, thank you," I replied, sliding onto the stool as he stood to retrieve another cup. I watched as he prepared the tea, my eyes lingering on him as he moved. I hadn’t had as much time with Theo, but he was cute, even when he was a bit socially awkward. There was something precise and elegant about the way he moved, like each action was calculated for maximum efficiency. He returned with my tea, setting it carefully in front of me.
"It's chamomile," he explained, taking his seat again. "Studies indicate it has mild anxiolytic properties—helps reduce anxiety."
I smiled, wrapping my hands around the warm mug. "You noticed I was anxious?"
"Your micro-expressions indicate elevated stress levels," Theo replied matter-of-factly. "Increased blinking rate, tension in your jaw muscles, slight dilation of your pupils." His expression softened. "Plus, it would be perfectly reasonable given the circumstances."
I took a sip of the tea, letting the warmth soothe me. "You're very observant."
"It's both training and natural inclination," Theo acknowledged, adjusting his glasses again. "I've always noticed patterns others miss." He paused, studying me over the rim of his mug. "To answer your earlier question, our suspect is a lab technician named Trent Warren. Lab technician at Meridian Research Facility for the past eight years. He has access to the industrial cleaner found at your apartment and has been reprimanded twice for inappropriate behavior toward Omega colleagues."
I felt my heart rate quicken. "Inappropriate how?"
"Verbal harassment, unwanted advances, one instance of attempted scenting," Theo replied, his clinical tone somehow making the information easier to process. "Nothing violent in his official record, but his personnel file shows a pattern of escalation."
I took another sip of tea, trying to keep my hands steady. "And you think he's the one who broke into my apartment? Who might have killed those other Omegas?"
"He's a person of interest," Theo clarified, his tone measured. "We have physical evidence linking him to your apartment, but we don't yet have evidence connecting him directly to the murders." He took a careful sip of his tea. "The others are interviewing him now. We'll know more soon."
His eyes studied my face, noting my reaction. "Are you alright?"
I nodded, though my hands tightened around the mug. "Just processing. It's strange to think there might be a face, a name to put with all this. Makes it more real somehow."
Theo set his tablet aside completely, giving me his full attention—a gesture I was beginning to recognize as significant for him. "That's a normal psychological response. Abstract threats become more concrete when personified."
"Is that your way of saying it's okay to be scared?" I asked with a small smile.
"Yes," Theo replied simply. "Fear is an adaptive evolutionary response designed to enhance survival. It would be more concerning if you weren't experiencing some level of anxiety."
I laughed softly, some of the tension easing from my shoulders. "You have a way of making scary things sound so logical."
Theo's lips quirked in what might have been the ghost of a smile. "Logic provides structure for understanding emotional experiences. I find it... comforting." He paused, studying me. "Does it help you as well?"
I considered this, taking another sip of tea. "Actually, yes. When you break it down like that, it feels more manageable somehow. Less overwhelming."
"Good," Theo said, and there was genuine warmth beneath his analytical tone. "That's my intention."
We sat in comfortable silence for a moment, sipping our tea. I studied Theo's profile, the strong line of his jaw, the way his glasses sat precisely on the bridge of his nose. Of all four Alphas, he was the most enigmatic to me—so controlled, so precise, yet with flashes of something deeper beneath the surface.
"You're staring," he observed, his voice neutral but curious as he met my gaze.
Heat rushed to my cheeks at being caught. "Sorry. I was just thinking."
"About what?" Theo asked, his head tilting slightly in that analytical way of his.
I hesitated, then decided on honesty. "About you, actually. I feel like I know the others better somehow. You're... harder to read."
Theo considered this, his expression thoughtful. "I've been told that before. Social interaction doesn't come as naturally to me as it does to Lucas or Gabriel." He adjusted his glasses again, a gesture I was beginning to recognize as a self-soothing habit. "I process emotions differently. More internally."
"That doesn't mean you feel them less," I observed quietly. Something flickered in his eyes—surprise, perhaps, at being understood.
"No," he agreed softly. "It doesn't."
There was something vulnerable in his admission that made my heart squeeze. I reached out, my hand hovering briefly before covering his where it rested on the counter.
"I like that about you," I said. "The way you see the world. It's... clarifying."
Theo looked down at our hands, a slight furrow appearing between his brows as if he were analyzing some complex puzzle. Slowly, deliberately, he turned his hand beneath mine until our palms met, his long fingers intertwining with mine.
"Most people find my analytical nature off-putting," he admitted, his voice quieter than usual. "Too clinical. Too detached."
"I don't," I replied simply. "It makes me feel safe, actually. Like you see all the pieces that others might miss." Theo's eyes met mine, and I was struck by how intense they were when looking at me.
I set my mug down, gathering my courage. "At dinner the other night, when we all talked... you didn't say much about how you felt. About this situation. About me."
Theo was quiet for a moment, his analytical mind clearly working through his response. "I'm not as verbally expressive as Lucas or as physically demonstrative as Dakota," he finally said. "But that doesn't mean my feelings are any less significant."
"And what are those feelings?" I asked softly, surprising myself with my boldness.
Theo met my gaze directly, his eyes intense behind his glasses. "Fascination. Admiration. Desire." Each word was delivered with careful precision, as if he'd selected them from a vast internal vocabulary for their exact meaning. "You're intellectually stimulating, emotionally resilient, and aesthetically pleasing." He paused, his thumb moving in a small circle over the back of my hand. "In simpler terms, you intrigue me on every level."
My breath caught at his directness. There was something deeply intimate about Theo's analytical assessment—as if he'd studied me thoroughly and found me worthy of his attention. It affected me in ways I hadn't expected.
"Thank you for being honest with me," I said, my voice slightly unsteady. "I appreciate that you don't... sugarcoat things."
"Sugar-coating serves no practical purpose," Theo replied, though his expression had softened. "Clarity is preferable."
I smiled, finding his literal interpretation endearing. "I agree."
Theo's eyes dropped to my lips briefly before returning to meet my gaze. "May I kiss you, Vivian?" he asked, his voice steady but with an undercurrent of something deeper—desire, perhaps, carefully controlled.
The question caught me off guard, not because of what he was asking, but because of how he asked it—direct, respectful, with no pretense or games. It was so quintessentially Theo.
"Yes," I whispered, my heart racing as he leaned closer.
Theo studied me for a moment, as if cataloging my response, before he carefully removed his glasses and set them on the counter. Without them, his face looked somehow more vulnerable, his green eyes more intense as they held mine.Unlike Gabriel's commanding presence or Dakota's fierce intensity, Theo's approach was methodical, precise. He cupped my face with careful hands, his thumbs brushing my cheekbones as if mapping the contours. When his lips finally met mine, the kiss was gentle yet thorough—exploring, analyzing, as if he were conducting research on what made me respond.
I sighed against his mouth, my free hand moving to his shoulder as he deepened the kiss with calculated intent. There was something intoxicating about being the focus of his complete attention, about feeling him analyze each response, each small sound I made, and adjusting accordingly. When he found an angle that made me whimper, he repeated the motion, learning me like a complex equation he was determined to solve.
When we finally broke apart, both slightly breathless, Theo's eyes were darker than before, his usual clinical detachment replaced by something hungry and primal. It was a side of him I hadn't seen before—the Alpha beneath the analyst.
"Your physiological response is... fascinating," he murmured, his voice rougher than usual as his thumb traced my lower lip. "Elevated heart rate, dilated pupils, flushed skin."
I laughed softly, oddly charmed by his analytical assessment of our kiss. "Is that your way of saying you liked it?"
The corner of Theo's mouth lifted in a rare smile. "Very much so. I'd like to conduct further research, when circumstances permit."
The quiet intensity in his voice sent a shiver down my spine. "I think I'd be amenable to that," I replied, trying to match his clinical tone but failing to hide my smile.
Theo retrieved his glasses, placing them back on with precise movements. The gesture was oddly intimate now that I'd seen him without them. He kept his eyes on me, his analytical gaze softened with something warmer.
"You continue to surprise me," he said quietly. "Most people find my approach... off-putting."
"I'm not most people," I reminded him, squeezing his hand where it still held mine.
"No," he agreed, his voice carrying a note of wonder. "You're not." He pause for a minute before he spoke softly to me.
"Though I should clarify that my actions weren't merely diversionary tactics. My interest in you is genuine. All of us…our interest in you is real.” He told me, and I smiled at his words, it was nice to hear the words.
“Thank you.” I smiled, my cheeks heating up as I know I was probably blushing horribly now at his words. He gave a nod of his head, his own cheeks a light red.
"The others will be returning soon," he said clearing his throat, glancing at his watch. "The interview should be concluding approximately now."
I nodded, reluctantly releasing his hand. "Do you think they'll have learned something useful?"
"It's probable," Theo replied, his analytical mind clearly shifting back to the case. "Gabriel is an excellent interrogator. He has a psychological intuition that complements my more data-driven approach."
I nodded, “Okay.” Thought I still felt anxious, but I know I would have more answers later..which helped me calm down as I went back to me tea and enjoyed the quiet with Theo next to me.