Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
Theo
What the fuck is wrong with me?
I’d awoken with a gorgeous man in my arms. Cameron was even smiling in his sleep, for God’s sake. I wanted to kiss him, to keep holding him, to pin him to the mattress and slide into that warm, tight body and watch his eyes grow large and round, hear his ragged breathing…
But instead of joy at finally getting what I’d yearned for, the first messages my brain served up sent me into a tailspin.
You don’t get to have this.
You’re not someone people stay with.
You’ll ruin it.
Damn it, I should have been euphoric.
I wanted to recall Cameron’s words from last night, the ones that had made me feel safe, that let me bask in the afterglow.
Someone else’s voice filled my head.
“You take too much.”
“You’re too intense.”
“You need too much.”
“You’re embarrassing.”
I wanted to scream “You don’t get to do this anymore. I fucking deleted you, remember?” Of course I could hear him. Why wouldn’t I? That old, ugly programming hit hardest because I was at my softest.
I didn’t do anything wrong. I have nothing to feel guilty about.
My head wasn’t listening.
“If you’re going to think this loudly in the mornings, I’m going to sleep on the couch,” Cameron murmured. I could hear the note of amusement in his voice.
Don’t let him see.
Fake it.
Raw panic surged through me, and I fought to breathe normally.
“Sorry. My brain kicks in as soon as I wake up. It’s a habit.”
Cameron rolled on top of me, and fuck, the feel of him, warm and solid…
“Then let me go make you some coffee.” He kissed me, a lingering, intimate connection that should have set the pattern for my day. Then he smiled. “Wow. Two firsts in one night.”
“Two?”
He nodded. “First time I’ve ever had company while I slept. I liked it.” Then he stilled. “About last night…” His face glowed. “It was amazing. In case I didn’t mention it.”
I forced a smile. “You might have, once or twice.”
He chuckled. “Then I’d better keep repeating it. You know, to let the message sink in.” Another gentle kiss. “I wouldn’t want you to forget how wonderful you are.”
I cupped his cheek. “How are you this morning?”
He grinned. “Well, put it this way.” He slid his hand down to my morning wood and gave it a squeeze.
“I know where this was last night. I think my arse is still feeling the aftereffects.” His eyes sparkled.
“But that doesn’t mean I won’t be ready for more later.
” He glanced at the alarm clock, and his eyes widened.
“Much later, because I’m going to be late for my class. ”
In a flurry of sheets, Cameron launched himself across the room, his bottom jiggling as he dashed toward the door.
Don’t let me ruin this.
Trouble was, I had the feeling I was already on the road to doing just that.
By the time I left for the studio, my nerves felt raw, there was a tingling in my chest, and no matter how many breaths I took, I couldn’t get enough oxygen.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
I’d spent the hours after Cameron had left in a fruitless attempt to work, but I couldn’t concentrate.
It wasn’t fair.
What the hell is wrong with simply enjoying sex?
Why does my brain have to mess it up with angst?
The self-recrimination only made matters worse.
Singing would help.
Singing always helped.
Ten minutes into the rehearsal, I knew my day wasn’t about to change for the better, and the worse part was, I seemed to be affecting everyone else’s.
I’d been crisp with them all, and it was clear they’d felt it, the way people feel weather in their bones before the sky changes.
Oliver’s mouth tightened. Julian checked his phone more than usual.
Max watched, amused for the first ten minutes, then with a growing expression of concern.
I stood in front of the mic, my shoulders set, my jaw tight, pretending nothing was wrong.
This was our first rehearsal in the new studio.
If the old room had smelled like coffee, the new one smelled like success.
Thick soundproofed walls, the tangle of cables snaking their way over the floor, secured in places by duct tape, microphones glinting under the overhead lights.
This place looks professional. Permanent.
It seemed Rough Harmony had found itself a home.
Max hit the starting note on the keyboard with more force than was needed, forcing me back into the moment.
“From the top,” I said.
We launched into ‘Ain’t No Sunshine’, a song that should’ve been second nature by now. On the first verse, Finnley nailed the lead. Julian blended like honey. The baritones held their line effortlessly. I opened my mouth for the bass drop—
And nothing came out, only breath.
Thin, useless, betraying breath.
“Hold up.” Max lifted off the keys. “What was that?”
“Nothing,” I said. “Again.”
They started again, and I inhaled, my chest tightening, not with resonance but panic. I forced the note out, but it wavered, thin, cracking on the end as though I’d never trained a day in my life.
Finnley pivoted, his brows lifting. Oliver stopped swaying. Sebastian blinked in surprise.
Max’s eyes narrowed. “Theo.”
“I said again,” I repeated, my tone clipped.
I wasn’t supposed to feel like this.
I wasn’t supposed to sound like this.
Last night should’ve made me better, but instead I felt unsteady, unmoored, untuned.
Max tapped the mic stand. “You sure you want to push it?”
I ignored him. “Places. Again. Please.”
The group exchanged looks but reset. The second attempt collapsed the same way.
My throat was dry, tight, too small for breath. My stomach churned. My heartbeat didn’t sync with the music—it fought it.
Max raised a hand to stop the song before it crashed. “Okay, that’s enough. Everyone take five.”
I stiffened. “We don’t need a break.”
“They might not,” Max said gently. “But you do. You need to breathe.”
“I am breathing. Again, please.” I set my jaw. Don’t do this.
“No.” Max folded his arms, the personification of the immovable object. “Talk.”
Eight pairs of eyes pivoted between us.
I never put my mess on the table. But the room was a little too warm, and the memory was still crawling under my skin.
“Break. Five minutes.”
Everyone broke into small groups, and from the tilt of heads, sideways glances, and muttered words, I knew I was the subject of their conversations.
Fuck.
Max stood in front of me, in my face. “Tell me what’s going on,” he said in a low voice.
“Nothing’s going on.”
“You’re lying.” He folded his arms. “You haven’t been right all evening. I know you, Theo. Do you think I can’t see when something’s wrong?”
My pulse skittered. “There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Bullshit.” Max lowered his voice even more. “You walked in here looking like you hadn’t slept. You’re jumpy. You’ve dropped pitch twice. And this—” He gestured vaguely at my whole body. “—isn’t stress. This is something else.”
I clenched my jaw. “I’m fine.”
“That the same ‘fine’ you were the night Cameron walked into the leather bar?”
I inhaled sharply.
Max nodded. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t.
“And where is he, by the way?”
I swallowed. “He had a class. But he said he’d drop in after—”
The studio door opened, and Cameron stepped inside, his hair damp from drizzle, his cheeks flushed from walking fast, his sketchbook under his arm.
He looked—
Happy.
Cameron was glowing in a way that only someone who’d had a good night’s sleep and a better night before that could glow.
My breath caught so sharply I felt it.
Cameron gave the room a shy wave, and the group waved back, amid calls and cheers.
“We wondered where you were,” Liam said with a grin.
Julian let out a low whistle. “Someone’s having a good day.”
“Look at his face,” Finnley muttered. “Who did that to him?”
Max didn’t look at Cameron—he looked at me.
I swallowed hard.
Cameron’s gaze found mine, like a magnet drawn to metal, and that slow, blooming smile lit up his face. It was warm, private…
Knowing.
Heat slammed into me like a body blow, and I snapped my gaze away so quickly it must’ve looked like pain.
My skin tingled, my palms were damp, and my chest tightened further.
I could smell Cameron’s shampoo from across the room.
I could still feel Cameron’s mouth on my throat, the way he’d trembled against me, the way he’d said I always have.
Other words stirred below the surface of that memory.
You want too much.
You’re too much.
You ruin everything.
My stomach lurched.
Max touched my arm. “Theo.”
“I’m fine,” I ground out. The lie stuck in my throat. I felt as if I was vibrating out of tune with myself.
Cameron walked toward me, slow, unsure, hopeful. One look at that sweet face, and my heartbeat stuttered. I wanted him again, right then and there, wanted him so much it hurt.
And that was the problem.
Cameron stopped a few feet away. “Hey,” he said softly. “You okay?”
I couldn’t answer. My throat wouldn’t work. My lungs wouldn’t cooperate. My heart thumped as if it wanted out of my chest.
I forced myself to nod. “Just… tired.”
It was obvious from Cameron’s expression that he didn’t believe me, but he didn’t push. Instead, he stepped back.
I wanted to close my eyes, because watching him walk away felt worse than wanting him. For the first time in my life, I wasn’t scared of desire.
I was scared of losing what I’d only just let myself have.
“Break over,” I croaked.
Now all I had to do was act as if everything was normal, when it was anything but.
I packed up my notes, letting the group’s voices wash over me. I knew the rehearsal hadn’t been a success. What should have been a great moment, finally singing in a new studio, had been ruined, and that had been down to me.
Even Cameron had recognised that. He’d left after only thirty minutes.
Doubtless he’ll have something to say about it when I get home.
I didn’t want to think about going home, though. My gut was still in turmoil.
Max and I were the last to leave. I said goodnight as we left the studio, then I hurried away, as if putting distance between us could stop whatever was clawing at me. The air outside was cold, but not cold enough. I needed freezing, silence…
“Hey.” A hand clamped around my arm. “Stop.”
I had no intention of stopping, but that only made Max tug harder. Then he planted himself in front of me, blocking my path, his chest rising and falling as if he’d been sprinting.
“What the fuck is happening?” he demanded.
I stared past him. “Nothing.”
“No.” Max stepped closer. “We are not doing the ‘nothing’ thing. Not when you looked as though you were about to pass out in front of the group.”
“I said I’m fine.”
“And I said you’re lying!” Max’s voice cracked like a whip. I flinched, and his face softened. “Talk to me.”
I looked at the brick wall behind Max’s shoulder. I couldn’t look my friend in the eye.
“I messed up,” I whispered.
“With the arrangement?” Max asked. “With rehearsal? What—”
“With Cameron.”
Max exhaled sharply. “You slept with him.”
It wasn’t a question, and my silence confirmed it.
Max scrubbed a hand over his face. “Jesus fucking Christ.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t know.” Max leaned in, his eyes fierce, his voice low. “You’re in love with him.”
My heart hammered.
Max wasn’t finished, however.
“You can pretend it’s just sex or tension or the thrill of breaking your stupid rules, but I know you, Theo. I know what you look like when you’re spiralling. And I know what you look like when you’re in deep.” Max jabbed a finger toward my chest. “And you’re in so deep you can’t see straight.”
“I can’t do this.” My voice cracked. “Max— I can’t afford to… to need someone.”
“Too late,” Max said gently. “You already do.” I shuddered, and his hand was warm on my arm. “And the worst part? He needs you too.”
“I’m going home,” I said.
“You’re running home,” Max corrected. “That’s a different thing.
” He paused. “Don’t go yet. Let’s find somewhere with decent coffee where we can talk.
” He sighed. “Oh, Theo. Order is good, but it’s possible to have too much of a good thing, you know.
” He patted me on the back. “Sometimes you need to just let go.”
You don’t understand. Order was the first language I ever learned.