Chapter 32
Fable
“How was your day?” I swipe a portion of dark chocolate hazelnut spread across a cracker and shove it in my mouth.
Theo’s across the kitchen from me, leaning against the island—the same positions we took that night of my birthday party. In a lot of ways, I feel exactly the same, half-drunk and giddy, but this time it’s not alcohol-induced. That heart-bursting, happy feeling is all Theo.
“Good. We had a surgery that took up a lot of the afternoon, but everything went well. Beans will be back to himself in no time.” His gaze drifts away for a beat before coming back to me. “And Mia called.”
“Oh, yeah? Did you get to see the dress pictures?” She sent them to me yesterday, and I think that’s when it really set in that my best friend is getting married.
She and Bree shopped for dresses together—because according to them, “fuck traditions”—and I can’t wait to see the dresses in person. They’re going to be stunning.
“I did. They were beautiful.” A hint of discomfort seeps into his voice when he adds, “She also asked me to walk her down the aisle.”
A gasp jumps out of me. “Theo! That’s amazing!” He doesn’t seem to be on my level of excitement, though. “What’s wrong?”
Something heavy settles into his expression. “I don’t know. I feel”—he sighs—“a lot.”
I hop down from the counter and wrap my arms around his waist. Propping my chin against his chest, I look up at him. “Do you not want to?”
“No, I want to.” He folds his arms around me. “It just feels like such an honor,” he mumbles.
Understanding seeps in. “One you don’t think you deserve?” He doesn’t reply, which is answer enough. “Theo,” I whisper, cupping his scruffy cheeks to tip his eyes down to me. “You absolutely deserve it. She wants you. She trusts you. She’s showing you how important you are to her.”
“You think so?” His voice is so full of insecurity. I wish I could zap it all out of him somehow.
Lifting onto my toes, I press a soft kiss to his lips. “I do. No doubt in my mind, I assure him, and his chest relaxes with a deep breath.
As he washes our dinner dishes and I dry them, his mood seems to lighten. We laugh about the joke book Priya brought to soccer practice and Knocks’s inability to leave Layla alone while she’s sleeping.
This is probably the thing I’ll miss the most when this is over—the simple moments with the two of us. Everything’s soft and intimate when we’re in the A-frame together. The outside world is distant and unimportant, and I get so busy enjoying this, I forget it’s going to end one day soon.
We tuck ourselves into our usual corners of the couch, me with Gramps’s copy of The Hobbit and Theo with one of Gramps’s favorite sci-fi books.
We’ve been reading together at night—or at least I’ve been trying to—but I tend to get distracted by Theo’s serious eyes and focused brows while he reads. He makes the cutest faces.
“Any reading actually happening over there?” he asks, not looking up from his book.
“Some,” I mumble, bumping my toes with his beneath the blanket.
He sets the book on his knees. “How are you feeling about the bookshop?”
“I’m feeling like . . .” I wince. Shit, I’m scared to even say it out loud.
I’ve spent the last week researching everything I can get my hands on—small business loans, other local bookstores, market data, and plenty of other things I don’t completely understand.
Barb is probably very sick of my emails, but she has been gracious and helpful anyway.
I’ve done everything I can think of before taking any steps, but the rental space’s phone number has been burning a hole in my pocket, and I think if I don’t do something soon, I might lose all my nerve.
“I’m feeling like I’m going to call the rental company,” I announce, my voice as steady as it can be.
Theo’s eyes sparkle. “Hell yeah.” He sets his book on the ground and crawls over me, kissing me fiercely. “You’re going to be amazing.”
“You think so?” I’m not completely sure of myself, but I’m more confident than I was a few weeks ago.
“I do. No doubt in my mind,” he assures me, echoing my words from earlier.
“You know, I can traverse the stairs safely now that you’ve fixed the railing,” I point out as Theo carries me over his shoulder, up the stairs.
“And you know, I get off on touching you, so I’ll take every opportunity I can,” he says, tossing me onto the bed.
I giggle as he leaps after me, catching himself before he lands completely. “Hey,” he whispers, his knuckles gliding over my cheek
“Hi.” I curve my hand to his jaw. “Wanna play a game with me?”
“What kind of game?” His eyes dance with mischief. So devastatingly beautiful and charming.
I give him a devilish grin. I’ve been thinking about this for weeks.
Slipping a hand under the pillow on my side of the bed, I pull out the pink vibrator.
“One where we reenact that time you caught me with this.” His eyes flare and my body goes hot, arousal flooding my veins.
“No head injuries or hospital trips this time,” I clarify.
“Yes. Please. Yes. This is my new favorite game.” He lowers his mouth to where my tight nipples are pressing into my top. The thin fabric soaks through instantly, and I’m already losing my breath when he snatches the vibrator from me.
“First, I want to see you spread out like that night. Then I’ll let you play with it,” he says, rising to stand at the end of the bed, exactly where he was that day.
I’m wearing the same soft pajama set with nothing underneath as I take position, letting my knees fall wide and staring at him down the line of my body. “You’ve got a little drool right there,” I tease, pointing toward his mouth.
He drags the back of his hand across his lips. “I’m sure I do. Just look at you.” The mattress dips beneath his weight as he kneels between my feet. “Touch yourself for me, Fable.”
My breath hitches. With my gaze on his, I slip my hand inside my shorts and down to stroke my center. It’s almost embarrassing how turned-on I already am—how turned-on I always am around Theo. Fire blazes in my cheeks at the wet sound of my fingers sliding through me.
His eyes darken. “You’re always soaked for me, aren’t you?” He presses a button, and the device buzzes to life, the sound ratcheting up my arousal. “Show me how you play with it while you think about me,” he instructs.
My hips jolt at the feeling as I position the suction over my clit. The steady pulse has my eyes rolling back, a heavy pressure settling low in my belly.
I look up to find Theo stripping out of his clothes, his focus pinned to me. While I squirm and writhe against the toy, he drags my shorts down and throws them aside, giving him a full view of everything.
He’s so goddamn gorgeous I don’t think I’ll ever be able to picture anyone else when I’m getting myself off. He’s the standard from now on, and that’s equal parts infuriating and exhilarating.
As the pressure builds in my spine, my thighs try to clench closed, but he grabs my knees, prying them apart. “Keep them wide open for me,” he says roughly.
With a breathy whimper, I let my legs fall back to the mattress, baring myself for him.
“Attagirl,” he praises with a wink. He spits into his palm and strokes himself once. “Is this what you were imagining that day?”
A laugh stumbles out of me. “I was actually trying my best”—I moan when he tugs the neckline of my shirt down and his mouth finds my nipple—“to not picture you.”
He hums against my breast. “Oh, sweetheart, that’s the wrong answer.
” In one swift move, he flips me over and yanks my hips up and back.
I catch myself on my arms, the vibrator falling to the mattress.
With a dark chuckle, he reaches between my thighs and moves my hand to hold the toy over my clit.
“You stay just like that. And don’t come until I say so,” he murmurs in my ear.
Then he’s gone, and I’m on my hands and knees on the bed, so close to coming I might scream.
Tension is coiling in every muscle, begging me to let it snap.
The arm holding me up trembles, and that flickering suction over my clit is fantastic, but I need something inside me. Something to clench around.
“I need you,” I whimper.
The mattress shifts again as he settles behind me, and I hear him tear open a condom. “Where do you need me?” he asks, a hand stroking over my hip, squeezing right where the flowers are etched.
“Everywhere,” I offer, which isn’t entirely helpful, but it feels very accurate. I need him inside me and all around me and everywhere at once. I don’t think it’ll ever be enough.
“This where you want me, sweetheart?” he asks, but the way his cock notches at my entrance, I think he already knows.
“Please. Fill me up,” I beg.
In one thrust, he does. With his hands tight around my hips, he pushes into me exactly the way I need. My arm almost gives out, but Theo reaches around to hold the toy as he moves inside me, allowing me to keep myself up with both arms.
“Is that what you wanted?” he asks, deep and gritty. A whimpered yes is all I can manage as he picks up his pace. “Fuck, I want to stay buried here forever.”
My body pulls tight, my back arching, toes curling. “Theo. I’m so close. Please can I come?” A scream lodges in my throat. I’m already pulsing around him, barely able to hold it back.
And then, thank fuck, he murmurs, “Yeah,” in my ear. “Come for me, sweetheart.”
In an instant, I detonate. It’s an earth-shattering, mind-numbing orgasm that starts in the farthest corners of my body and bursts into my core. I pulse and tremble and my arms finally give out, my shoulders falling to the bed.
Theo pulls out and flips me onto my back. He sets the vibrator aside, and my core is still fluttering when he slides back into me.
“Fuck,” he groans, his eyes clouding with an emotion I can’t identify. “You feel so perfect around me.” He buries his face in my throat, his weight a delicious pressure over my body.
His movements are slower now—he thrusts into me in deep, achy strokes that I feel all the way in my toes and fingers. My hands rove over his back, pulling him even closer, trying to feel as much of him as I can, desperate to remember every dip and curve of his body.
“I can’t . . . I don’t . . .” He shakes his head, not making any sense. “I didn’t know it would be like this.”
When he pulls back, there’s a deep crease between his brows. I try to untangle his words and his expression, but it’s all knotted. His gaze searches my face, as if he’s piecing something together, his eyes holding a mixture of longing and confusion? I can’t be sure.
My breath stutters. Something is pooling in the air between us, and it feels a whole lot like the emotions we promised wouldn’t come into this. They’re rising from somewhere deep, insistent and unrestrained, begging to be acknowledged. And Theo doesn’t look entirely sure what to do about them.
I’m not sure either.
He pauses, his thumb sliding gently over my cheekbone. “Fable, I don’t know if I can . . .” His eyes fall shut, and I hear the words he left unsaid.
I don’t know if I can let this go either. I don’t know if I can follow the terms I promised I would. I don’t know if I was meant for no emotions with him. On some level, they’ve been there all along.
“It’s okay.” I pull him closer, trying to stop whatever is unraveling between us.
He’s trembling as he lets out a needy groan against my throat. Then his pace picks up, deep and relentless. I imagine him reaching a piece of me that’ll never be touched again, like he’s staking a claim that only I’ll know about. It’ll never be as good as this ever again.
And when his mouth comes to mine in an all-consuming kiss, I don’t think I’ll ever be kissed like this again either. Theo will be the keeper of all my favorite kisses.
His lips stay fused to mine as I tumble over the edge and euphoria pools in my lower back and stretches out to my limbs. He mutters a string of words I can’t understand before his grip turns rough and tight, and I feel him pulse inside me.
Our bodies are damp, muscles loose, as he wraps his arms around me and pulls me over with him. He nuzzles against my neck and trails his fingers over me, leisurely drawing lines on my skin.
When my heart rate settles, I whisper, “Theo.”
“Fable,” he whispers back.
“I like you,” I admit, my brain too muddled, my heart brimming with too many emotions to make sense of it all. But I know this one thing. I like him. More than I planned to. Enough to hurt. “A truly maddening amount, I’m afraid.”
A deep exhale—so deep his lungs must be the size of the whole house. “I . . . like you too,” he says, lips against my temple. “The perfect amount, I’m afraid.”