Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Wren
Theo’s high-rise penthouse is lavish. While he places our usual takeout order at our favorite Thai restaurant, I plop on the couch and allow it to swallow me whole. The cushions are white and made of chenille. He has a navy throw blanket folded neatly in the corner, and I quickly unravel it and hug it close to my chest. As I listen to his voice in the background, a peaceful sigh leaves my lips.
I didn’t know it was possible to feel this way. For years, my body was at war with itself between stomachaches, never-ending periods, and my mental health decline. I was always in pain. I’ve dealt with stomach issues since the second grade. Mom and Dad passed it off as normal, so I learned to live with it. It was random at first, a stomachache here and there, but when it happened, it was brutal.
I would cry and beg for the pain to stop. The issue was never addressed. Mom told me everything was fine—and she convinced Dad I was too. I wasn’t provided with proper medical attention until it was too late.
To this day, I remember the meal that sent my health over the edge. We didn’t have much money growing up, and we didn’t have food in the house often either. Multiple factors played into this. Dad was often out of a job, not because he wasn’t a good worker, but because my mom was always cheating on him. His trust dwindled, and he looked to drugs for comfort. Then, Mom went back to work to support the household, but this also gave her an opening to cheat more. It was an endless cycle. Over time, I learned how to eat properly and got on birth control to regulate the bleeding, so I’m nowhere near the shell of the person I was.
I’m content at home, but Theo exudes this natural calming aura and makes me feel protected. He always has.
And to think I was scared to tell him about my celiac disease. . . that he might disappear once I did.
“Wren, can you find something for us to watch?”
His words shake me from my thoughts. “I get to pick?” I call out while reaching for the remote. “What’s the special occasion?”
“I’m feeling generous,” he says while sitting on the couch, his thigh near my head.
While humming happily to myself, I put on one of my favorite cartoons, and my smile widens when he exhales, “Really?”
“You said I could pick,” I chirp while tilting my head to look at him, but my expression softens when I notice he’s frowning, and his eyes are glossed over in annoyance. Sitting up, I grab the remote. “I’m sorry, we can watch something else. What would you like?”
He covers my hand that’s holding the remote to stop me. “Put it back on; I just had a rough day. I’m sorry.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask while crossing my legs over one another, giving him my full attention.
“I had to do something that I’m not proud of,” he says without looking at me.
“Okay, knowing you, you did it because you had no other choice.”
“I mean . . . I did, but I took the coward’s way out.”
“What happened?” He finally looks at me, and I offer him a sympathetic smile. “You can trust me.”
“I had to fake an orgasm.”
It’s not what he said that makes me choke back my laughter. It’s his bluntness.
“Oh,” I manage while keeping my composure. “And may I ask how you managed it?”
“Do you really need to hear the specifics?”
“Yes,” I respond, even though I don’t need to hear them. Curiosity has me itching for more details.
“You know Lucy, the woman I’ve been filming with?”
I nod.
“She was giving me head and using her teeth. . . on purpose.”
“On purpose?” I repeat incredulously.
“She said the other guy she films with likes it.”
“Are we sure he’s okay? Should we send him an ambulance? I mean, for all we know, his dick might be composed entirely of scarred tissue.”
“Wren,” Theo says scoldingly.
“What?” I ask, the chuckle in my tone becoming harder to suppress.
“This is serious.” He snorts, and I lose all sense of common decency.
“How the hell did you fake an orgasm if she had your stuff in her mouth?”
“My stuff?”
I double over, holding my stomach while my laughter wins. “I’m not saying the other word!”
“What? Cock? You can say cock, Wren.”
“Not when it pertains to you,” I sputter.
“Anyway, I told her to turn around, and I may have shot some lotion on her back and pretended to come.”
“You did what!?” I burst into laughter and fall back on the couch, gasping for air and turning completely red. “There’s no way.”
“I feel like a prick,” he grunts while pressing his palms into his eyes.
“Holy shit.” I can’t breathe.
“I should have just told her.”
“My stomach hurts!”
“I should have told her to pretend she didn’t have teeth.”
“Theodore!”
“This is a serious matter; stop laughing.” He places his hands on my shoulders and shakes me. “I’m going to hell.”
“Most likely.” I cackle.
“And I’m dragging you with me.”
“What? I’m a good girl. All good girls go to heaven.”
“I know the smut you read. The devil would look at your collection and blush.” He chuckles, and I flush while batting him away.
“I’m sorry that I read my porn like a fucking lady!”
“You and your spicy books are going to hell with me.”
I squeal when he flips me onto my back, tickling my sides while beaming down at me. “At least I never faked an orgasm.”
“Oh, you haven’t? Not even with that one guy? What was his name again?”
Before he can continue, I press my finger against his lips to shush him. “We don’t talk about ‘him.’”
“Who? Branden?”
Lurching forward, I aim to push him, but he captures my hands in his, and we playfully fight back and forth, trying to push the other down.
“You were always complaining about his lack of skills in the bedroom. Are you telling me you never faked it? Not once?”
Branden Carson was my first official boyfriend. I met him during my first year of college, and we dated for a year. He took my virginity, and he was sweet about it. He asked how I was and took care of me afterward. I knew my first time would be painful, but when it didn’t get better, I went to the one person I knew had the most experience.
Mistake number one.
According to Theo, either Branden didn’t know what he was doing, or I simply wasn’t into him enough to enjoy myself. It’s been seven years, and I can’t say for certain what the cause was because I still haven’t felt the kind of pleasure the women in my books experience.
Perhaps there’s something wrong with me.
“It’s hard to fake an orgasm when you’ve never had one,” I blurt out, and his expression falls.
Fuck! I clap my hands over my mouth, eyes wide. Another famous Wren moment of being too honest.
Theo backs away; he sits on the other end of the couch while I shift up and pull my knees close to my chest. “Sorry, you didn’t need to know that.”
Silence falls between us, and I curse myself for letting that slip. Theo and I know a lot about one another, but we tend to keep that part of our lives to ourselves. He doesn’t talk about his shoots unless something is bothering him. And I don’t discuss my love and sex life unless something is really bothering me.
I look over at him and blush when I catch him watching me.
“You’re telling me you’ve never had an orgasm? Not even after Branden?”
I don’t respond right away. I observe him, trying to gauge where he’s going with this conversation.
“Never,” I state. “Embarrassing, isn’t it? A twenty-seven-year-old woman who has yet to experience one? Call the presses.”
“It’s not embarrassing.” His answer stops me short. “It’s quite common, actually. What do you?—”
The intercom by his front door begins to ring, and we look at one another, unsure what to do next.
With a small smile, Theo stands, walks toward the door, and buzzes the delivery guy in.
After he accepts the food, I turn the volume up on the TV and ask him a random question to change the subject. “Did you watch the new anime that’s out yet?”
“The slice of life one?” he asks while placing the bags on the table.
“Yeah, I can sign in, and we can watch it together if you’d like.”
Theo shoves his hands in his pockets, and with a small tilt of his head, he offers me a heart-fluttering smile. “You’re lucky you’re cute. I don’t watch anime with just anyone.”
He walks away to get some plates, and I glance at my lap with a shy grin. Sucking in a deep breath, I attempt to settle the butterflies in my stomach.
This happens sometimes, especially when he looks at me like that. I think it’s because I’m not used to it. I mean, I don’t draw attention from the opposite sex. I know Theo doesn’t see me in that light, but I can’t help but wonder, what if he did?