Chapter 6 Maya
Maya
Curls: still full.
Lips: still glossed.
Bra: already doing the most.
Maya muttered, “Behave,” to her own cleavage, grabbed her bag, and slid out of the driver’s seat.
When she got to his door, she hesitated.
Don’t think about the scrawny kid in the dorm.
Don’t think about Scare Daddy growling into a mic.
She exhaled, knocked twice, and braced herself.
The door opened, and, goddamn…
Relaxed, at-home Theo looked different from dressed-up Theo.
Both had their merits.
The way his black tank top stretched across his chest should not have been that distracting. Now that they were bare, his arms and broad shoulders looked like they could carry heavy things or hold someone tight in the dark. His dark jeans were casual but fit his muscular thighs perfectly.
Yesterday’s tidy scruff seemed darker with neglect, and his black wavy hair wasn’t quite held down by whatever gel he used. One lock fell over his eye in a devil-may-care way that made her want to brush it aside.
It was his eyes that hit hardest. In the low light of the doorway, what had been once warm and curious now felt intense as they tracked slowly down her face… and lower.
“Maya,” he said with a smile. “Come on in.”
She stepped inside before she could fall apart at the threshold.
He lived in a top-floor unit, a loft-style apartment with exposed brick, high ceilings, and tall windows that overlooked a shimmering slice of Lake Michigan. The natural light of a setting sun poured across hardwood floors and washed over the sparsely decorated space.
He, at least, had a gray sectional and a beat-up coffee table but she paid more attention to the tall bookshelves. They were packed to the gills with horror novels, a few battered cookbooks, and stacks of marbled composition notebooks.
“Wow,” she said, walking toward the center of the living room. “This is… not what I expected.”
He raised a brow. “What did you expect?”
She glanced at him, shrugging. “Something darker. More gothic. Candles, maybe. Black-out curtains. Occult symbols scrawled on the walls.”
Theo huffed a laugh. “Sorry to disappoint.”
“Oh, I didn’t say I was disappointed,” she said quickly.
Their eyes held for a beat too long before he turned slightly and motioned her toward the back.
“Studio’s this way. I’ve got bottled water in there, but I also have coffee or a shot of whiskey…”
She smiled, easing a little. “Water’s fine. Thanks.” As she followed him down the short hallway, she added, “Your place still has that ‘I’m not done nesting’ vibe.”
“Still unpacking. Trying to keep it minimal until I find the right vibe.”
She nodded. “It’s nice. Feels grown.”
He glanced back again and his smile was almost shy. “I’d like to think so.”
“Did you have any trouble with the contract I emailed?”
“Nope. Looked good. Clean and professional. You’ve done this before.”
“Once or twice,” she said.
When they reached his office/studio, everything suddenly became very real.
Theo gestured inside. “After you.”
Maya took a slow breath and stepped into the room.
This was not some closet-sized corner with egg crates and prayers; this was a legit recording setup.
Theo’s guest room had been reborn as a studio, the walk-in closet now a snug recording booth lined with foam panels.
A microphone stood between two chairs and a small table, with a glass partition separating the booth from the control desk.
On the other side, his setup was simple but professional: a compact mixing board, dual monitors, and enough cables to make Maya nervous about tripping.
Maya moved toward the open booth, hesitant to actually walk inside.
Theo entered first. “You can sit wherever’s comfortable.”
“This is a lot more… high-tech than I pictured,” she said, settling in the nearest chair.
“If I’m planting roots here, figured I’d splurge on the best.” He adjusted the mic angle. “Want to start with a level check?”
“Not really,” she admitted.
Theo paused. “Nervous?”
“Not nervous,” Maya said. “I just need warming up. I can’t just dive right into it.”
“Warming up…”
Judging by the way he pressed his lips together to keep from laughing… she realized how that must have sounded.
He pulled a rolling chair beside her and sat down. “Let’s talk about your books.”
Even though they had talked about the ins and outs of her publishing journey yesterday, Maya didn’t mind keeping the conversation on her books. Books felt safe.
“Okay, sure.”
“I saw your Goodreads numbers. You’re doing quite well.”
Maya felt her cheeks heat up. “I don’t visit that website. Ever. But it’s always nice to hear readers like what I’m selling.”
A smile tugged at his lips. “They’re not the only ones.”
That made her pause.
“I’ve read most of it by now, actually.”
Maya blinked. “Most?”
He nodded, fingers drumming once against his armrest. “A boxer with a busted shoulder, the other shoulder has a chip on it. A gym that’s seen better decades. And a burnt-out Yvette trying to start over in the apartment upstairs, haunted by choices she swears were hers.”
Oh, wow, he’s good at short blurbs…
She tilted her head. “What do you think of Paul?”
A corner of his mouth lifted. “A walking open wound with a bench press kink. Very loyal. Very angry. Also? Excellent with his hands.”
She stared at him. “So you have read most of it.”
He nodded.
“Interesting.” She placed her laptop in front of the mic stand between them. “How many of my books have you read?”
He froze for half a second. Long enough for her to clock his smugness slip away from him.
“Uh…”
Maya raised an eyebrow as she opened the file for her manuscript.
Theo rubbed the back of his neck. “I mean… a few. Not—like, not all of them.”
“A few,” she repeated.
His voice dropped into something almost sheepish. “I read the one with the flower shop. The grumpy florist and the tattoo artist. I liked that one a lot.”
Her eyes widened. “You read Ink & Ivy?”
“I didn’t mean to,” he said quickly. “It was during a layover. And then I—sort of—kept going.”
Her lips curled into a slow smile. “You’ve been secretly reading my books all these years?”
“I wouldn’t say secretly—”
“Uh-huh.”
He looked deeply interested in the mic cables all of a sudden.
Maya laughed, giddy from the rare sight of him off-balance. “Teddy Ward: Closet romantic.”
He pointed a warning finger. “Don’t you dare say that where the internet can hear it.”
“Oh, I will. I’m going to tell your little fan club. They’re already frothing over episode 56.”
“How do you know about episode 56?”
Amused by how red he was turning, she leaned forward like she was about to tell him a secret. “I tried listening again, and this one wasn’t as terrifying.”
He covered his face with one hand. “Jesus…”
“One of your listeners said—and I quote: ‘You have to hear the one where he moans like a Victorian ghost, and it makes you want to hump your pillow.’”
Theo dropped his head back and let out a long, pained exhale. “That character was supposed to be possessed.”
Maya laughed uproariously, finally feeling in control of this awkward meeting.
“It sure sounded like it!”
“It was supposed to be scary.”
Maya grinned, satisfied. “You know what? I get it now. The thirst-toks. The girl at lunch yesterday. The fanfiction.”
He frowned. “The what?”
“Oh, don’t play dumb. Someone made a TikTok audio loop of you whispering ‘come closer’ with thunder in the background. I’ve seen the stitches.”
Theo raised a brow. “I wasn’t aware things had gotten that… intense.” He shook his head. “You know what? You are not allowed to search for any more Scare Daddy tags while we work together.”
Maya crossed her legs slowly, smug as hell. “Too late. I already know what I’m working with.”
His gaze flicked toward her, half amusement, half something darker.
“Do you?” he asked.
And just like that, the room shifted.
Lord help her, she hoped she did.