Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
Wren
I muster all my courage, open the door, and silently thank Theo for leaving it unlocked. He’s waiting for me when I walk in, leaning against the kitchen island with his hands shoved in his pockets.
When he sees me, he pushes off the surface and takes cautious steps toward me. “Are you okay?” he asks in a soft tone.
“I’m fine,” I say with a small smile. “Are you?”
“I’m good. I was worried.”
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have run off.”
Theo closes the space between us, and his proximity makes my heart skip a beat. His rich, prosecco cologne wraps around me, and it’s enough to reignite the desire to kiss him again.
“I’m sorry if I pushed a boundary?—”
“You didn’t.”
He tilts his head. “You wanted me to do that and kiss you?”
“I did,” I admit in a low whisper.
With another inch forward, our chests press together, and he brushes his nose against mine. “What do you want, Wren?” He hums, and my walls disintegrate.
“I—”
Without making full contact, our lips dance over one another, and I shiver from the flutter of pleasure.
“Talk to me. . .” he mumbles while tracing the backside of my hand with his thumb.
Every muscle in my body turns to putty. As he toys with my lips, I struggle to put what I want into words. Growing up, most of my wants and needs were ignored. It’s safe to say I’m not accustomed to having someone cater to me.
But now? It’s right at my fingertips; all I have to do is say it.
“I want you?—”
He nips at my bottom lip. “Speak to me,” he demands in a deep rumble, and a sensation I haven’t felt in a long time surfaces.
My core tightens as the image of him between my legs, touching me, taking me, fucking me becomes too much to handle. Inhibitions and common sense are tossed into the wind. One more touch is all I need.
“One more time,” I murmur against his lips. “And then we can go back to being just friends.”
“Friends,” he repeats as his eyes glaze over.
“Just friends.”
He wraps his hand around mine, and I lean against him for support, more than ready for him to close the agonizing gap?—
“Theo!” A pounding fist meets his front door. “Are you home?” the woman shouts.
My spine jolts from the sudden interruption, and the haze around me clears. Before I can blink, I take a step back and take in a long inhale.
“Theo?” the stranger calls again.
With a groan, he drags himself from our orbit and goes to open the door. “Amanda?”
Oh great, her again.
Turning around, I put on a fake smile.
“You’re still here?”
And there it goes. Dad did say I could never control my facial features. With my hands on my hips, I click my tongue and allow a wide grin to replace the faux one.
“She lives here,” Theo answers for me.
The blonde’s eyes widen as she picks me apart. “And who are you again?”
“You know who I am, Amanda,” I fire back. “We’ve unfortunately met at least ten times.”
“Hmm, I don’t remember.” It’s like she’s trying to get under my skin. “Any way, I met Theo in college?—”
I cut her off with a chuckle. “I’ve known him since the tenth grade.”
“Ladies, let’s calm down.” Theo tries to ease the tension, but it doesn’t work.
“If you were important, I would have remembered you.”
“Perhaps all the blonde hair dye killed off the majority of your brain cells,” I say without thinking.
“What did you just say?” she snaps, nostrils flaring.
“Let’s all relax. There’s no need to get upset,” Theo says.
“She started it,” Amanda snarls.
“And I’m ending it.” He cuts in before I can rebut. He places himself between us, and I smirk at her from behind his back. “Was there something you needed, Amanda?”
Redirecting her attention toward Theo, what comes out of her mouth leaves me grasping for support.
“I want to do another video.”
I’m dreaming. That’s the only thing I can think of. Nothing else can explain the feeling of falling and never hitting the ground. How else can I explain why my heart plummets into the floor before my stomach does? I would laugh at myself if I were alone because I’m a damn fool.
“And why on earth would I do that?” he groans.
“Can we talk in the other room? Please?” Amanda sighs, batting her long eyelashes.
Theo glances at me, then at Amanda. With a sigh of defeat, he nods toward his room, and she happily obliges.
When the door shuts, my breathing quickens. Theo was wrong. I may have been the one to initiate the argument, but she was the one who ended it.
Locking myself in my room, I stare at my reflection in a floor-length mirror. I used to be so small. While there aren’t many photos of me from 2009-2010, the few that do exist haunt me. How did my parents not believe I was sick?
She’s skin and bones!
And I was, with my hallowed cheeks, dark circles under my eyes, practically concave stomach, and no muscle mass. Fatigue and pain became part of my day-to-day life, and I thought it was normal. She let me believe it was normal.
I take my shirt off and squeeze the extra skin on my hips, examining how my stomach slightly bulges out. My doctors would praise me for going from malnourished to a healthy weight, but they don’t have to deal with my self-image problems. They aren’t looking at my reflection and thinking, “Her thighs are twice the size they were ten years ago.” Or “Her breasts grew four cups.” Whereas I do, and I find myself comparing myself to women like Amanda.
Theo has a type. I’ve seen the other women in the thumbnails of his videos. I won’t go down that rabbit hole, though. I have some dignity left.
I’ll never be thin as a rail, and I don’t want to be. It would remind me of the days when I couldn’t stand without blacking out or eat without dealing with a stomachache. I always wanted to be able to care for myself, and I have been.
For once, I should be proud, so how come I’m not?