Chapter 6 #2
I laughed before I could stop myself, and the sound seemed to surprise Theo as much as it did me. The air felt less stiff for a heartbeat, as if we’d stumbled into something almost easy.
Then Theo cleared his throat. “Coffee? It’s instant, but don’t let that put you off. It’s good. Life is too short for bad coffee.”
“Coffee would be great.”
Theo busied himself with pouring another mug. “You take sugar with it, right?”
The question felt like an echo of the previous night. I swallowed and nodded. “Still do.”
Theo didn’t look at me when he stirred it in, and I couldn’t look away. The way his fingers moved, precise and practiced, made my pulse stutter again. Everything about Theo was too controlled, too clean, and one thought dominated my mind.
What would it take to unravel that control?
Then I noticed something.
Theo was avoiding my gaze.
Shit. He’s changed his mind already.
Theo pushed the mug across the counter without looking in my direction. “Here.”
“Thanks.”
“Breakfast?”
“I can grab something later,” I said quickly. I didn’t trust myself to sit across from Theo while I ate toast, seeing that throat, those hands, the curve of his mouth around a sip of coffee—
I shut that thought down hard.
Theo nodded, seeming relieved. “Suit yourself. I’ve got rehearsal notes to go through before I start work.” He turned toward the small table by the armchair, where his laptop sat open beside a neat stack of sheets. The light fell across his back, outlining him in soft gold.
I blew on my coffee, watching him move, and hated myself for how easy it was to get lost in the view.
I took a sip. Too hot. I didn’t care.
Theo’s concentration was a physical thing. He leaned over the laptop, his lips pursed, his brow furrowed, tapping his pen absently against the table. His shirt stretched just enough when he reached for a sheet of paper that I forgot what words were for a moment.
I wanted to draw him again. Not that I hadn’t already done it a hundred times in my head. Theo in grayscale: tension lines around his eyes, the curve of his wrist where precision met control. I wondered if Theo would ever let me.
Somewhere, hidden in a cardboard box, was the drawing I’d done that day.
The day.
“You can use the shower,” Theo said suddenly, without turning his head.
I blinked. “Right. Thanks.” I set the mug down too fast, sloshing coffee on the counter, and scrambled for a paper towel before Theo could move. “Sorry—”
“It’s fine.” Theo’s voice was steady.
I wiped the spill, my cheeks burning. The silence that followed was heavy enough to hear.
“You’ve already had your first rehearsal, right?” I said at last, desperate for noise.
Theo frowned. “How did you know that?”
“Max told me about the group.”
He jerked his head in my direction, his gaze sharp. “You’ve talked to Max?”
“Just online. I followed him on Instagram.” And following Max meant a link to Theo. “He posted about it so I messaged him. How did it go? Was it okay?”
Theo hesitated. “We’ll get there.”
I smiled. “I’m sure you’ll sound great.”
Theo’s shoulders eased a little. “Thursday was our first time. We still sound too rough.”
“That’s kind of the charm. Rough Harmony, right? It fits.”
Theo’s mouth curved, a reluctant smile, gone as quickly as it came. “We’ll see.”
He turned back to the laptop, effectively closing the conversation, but the image of that almost-smile stayed with me, bright and impossible to forget.
I wanted to make him do it again.
Anything was better than the non-looks and the absence of any real connection.
“Theo… It is okay, isn’t it? Me staying here? I mean, I haven’t outworn my welcome already, have I?”
Theo frowned. “I said it was, didn’t I?” Before I could say another word, he gestured toward the bathroom door. “Shower’s yours, if you want it.”
I decided retreat was better than awkward silence. “I won’t be long.” I headed for the bathroom and closed the door. I flipped on the water and then undressed.
The shower hissed into life, and steam soon filled the small space, fogging the mirror. I braced my hands on the wash basin and met my own reflection, mussed hair, flushed skin, wide eyes that gave away everything I’d tried to hide.
“Pull yourself together,” I muttered to myself.
I was here for a place to sleep, nothing else. Theo was doing me a favour. I couldn’t screw that up by reading meaning into every glance, every pause—or every act of avoidance.
Except I wasn’t imagining the way Theo looked at me sometimes, as though he wanted to speak but didn’t dare.
I exhaled, long and shaky. Maybe I am imagining it.
But what if I wasn’t?
Theo
I sat at my desk, conscious of Cameron moving around in the bathroom. The water started, but less than five seconds later the sound died, and the door opened, followed by bare feet on the wooden floorboards.
“Did you forget something?” I said, my gaze focused on the screen.
“Yeah, my towel.”
I turned, half rising. “I think there’s—”
I froze.
Cameron stood by the couch, the towel in one hand—naked.
Holy fuck.
My breath caught. I tried to look away, to focus on anything else, but my body betrayed me. My gaze lingered a second too long on Cameron’s half-hard cock before jerking my head up, eyes wide.
And Cameron noticed.
The air changed, a quiet hitch between one heartbeat and the next. Cameron’s smile faltered, and something flickered across his face.
Recognition.
The moment felt stretched, heavy with all the things I wasn’t supposed to think about. I turned back to the desk too quickly, my fingers striking random keys just to have a sound in the room.
“Sorry.” My voice shook a little. “I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s fine. Really.”
The quiet that followed wasn’t comfortable anymore. It buzzed with awareness, with the memory of that look between us. I kept my back turned until the bathroom door closed once more, and the shower burst into life again.
I stared at the screen, seeing nothing but Cameron’s smooth, creamy skin, his broad chest and shoulders, and that gorgeous uncut dick, the foreskin pulled back a little to reveal the plump head.
A deep Vee went from above Cameron’s hips to his groin, drawing the eye down to the tight patch of dark curls around the root, the sac hanging low, just visible behind his shaft.
I saw something else too, the expression that had crossed Cameron’s face, half surprise, half understanding.
I pressed a hand to my forehead and exhaled.
Whatever this was between us, it was no longer simple.
And no amount of rules would make it so again.
Cameron
The bathroom door clicked shut behind me, and I leaned against it, my heart hammering.
I’d meant it as a tiny push, a test of that careful wall Theo kept around himself. But the second I saw Theo’s eyes widen and then flick away, my own pulse had gone wild.