Chapter 19 Theo
Theo
The booth was cold that morning. Quiet. Just the hum of the mic interface and the faint, familiar buzz of his own pulse. He rolled his shoulders, took a sip of water, and cleared his throat.
It was a short episode. A moody one. No gore or jump scares. Just that creeping kind of horror that lived in the walls.
He liked stories like these.
They gave him room to play.
He hit record.
“They said the house had settled.
“Those old excuses: timber groaning, plaster flexing, the quiet aches of an aging frame. Creaks, chills, the odd flicker of light. Nothing to worry about. Just time doing what time does.
“But Caleb knew better.
“This wasn’t the kind of quiet that lived in wood and stone.
“It was watching quiet.
“Listening quiet.
“The kind of silence that deepened when you spoke, like something holding its breath to hear you better.
“He felt it first in the mornings. Something off in the temperature of the room. The way the sheets clung to his back like he’d been sweating in his sleep. The way his breath didn’t mist in the cold, but hung, still and warm, like it had nowhere to go.”
His voice dropped lower. Slower. Not on purpose. The tone just fit the story… hazy, heavy, and slow as sleep paralysis.
He kept reading.
“Every night, the sound moved a little closer. At first, it was faint like a hum, like wind caught in the plaster. But it grew… warmer. Wetter. Her breath steamed the wallpaper.”
He swallowed hard.
He hadn’t even meant to. Just that line—warmer, wetter—felt different today. Maybe because Maya had been curled on his couch last night, humming along to the audiobook playback with a cup of tea in her lap.
Maybe it was the feeling of holding her hand the night before last, while they walked around haunted Chicago. Or perhaps it was the scent of her, which still lingered in his booth. Floral and vanilla.
“She didn’t bang or scrape. No haunting footsteps. No sudden screams. Just… presence. A voice like dusk. Like candlelight flickering too low. And fingers, always cold, brushing the seam between drywall and baseboard. As though she could almost reach him.”
His breath caught. Shit.
He blinked at the screen, flinched like a man waking from a vivid dream.
And then, God help him, he read the next line without thinking:
“He started sleeping with his back to the wall. Started dreaming of lips near his ear. Of cold breath. Of a woman whose face he’d never seen, but whose voice was always there, in the back of his mind. The moment he started talking back, the wall softened…”
That one word: softened.
He didn’t mean to groan. Not fully.
But something slipped out. A breathy, involuntary sound, pulled from somewhere low in his throat. Half-growl, half-sigh. Like he’d been touched, just once, exactly how he liked it.
Theo froze.
Fuck.
He rewound. Listened.
It wasn’t that loud. Most people wouldn’t even notice.
He exhaled. Shook it off. Finished the take. Told himself no one would notice.
This episode would be no different from his others.
The Ivy Room at Tree Studios knew how to do intimacy on a grand scale.
Floor-to-ceiling windows opened onto a lush terrace draped in green, while inside, soft light pooled beneath high ceilings and exposed beams. Crystal chandeliers caught the glow from the candles at every table, turning the room into something warm and golden.
And in the center of it all, framed by a floral arch and a pair of velvet wingback chairs, sat George and Nadine Brooks. Smiling. Holding hands. Glowing like two people who were still mad about one another after fifty years.
Theo adjusted his collar and tried not to feel underdressed, even though his suit was perfectly fine. Dark gray, pressed, tailored. Nate had insisted it wasn’t a black-tie event, but he still didn’t want to be caught slipping as the only White guy at a mini-family reunion.
A jazz trio played softly near the bar. Champagne flutes clinked. Someone’s toddler made a break for the dessert table. Theo watched a young man in short locs pick her up mid-waddle, laughing, as if chaos were just part of the charm tonight.
He spotted Maya across the room, deep in conversation with an older relative, laughing with her whole face.
She looked… radiant. Her dress was navy blue, off-the-shoulder, with gold cuffs around her wrists that shimmered when she talked with her hands.
He hadn’t said a word to her yet, but the moment she walked in, Theo had felt something in his chest tilt off axis.
This was going to be a long night.
He made his way to the bar, nodding politely at a few unfamiliar faces.
“Jameson, neat,” he told the bartender, who nodded without asking any questions.
Theo leaned one elbow on the counter, tracking Maya as she fluttered around the room, hugging different relatives, kissing different babies… completely at ease with herself.
“Local celebrity in the house,” Sammy murmured as she sidled up to him at the bar. Her black A-line dress hit just below the knee, the soft fabric moving easily when she walked, paired with flats that said she planned to chase her son around the room. “Gin and tonic, please.”
Theo hugged and kissed her cheek before making room for her. “I’m just a man with a mic, Sammy.”
She gave him a knowing look, sliding onto the stool beside him. “Yeah, well, tell that to your biggest fan. Nate cannot stop going on about the AV club y’all are about to start in the fall.”
Theo chuckled, nudging her shoulder. “Happy to help a fellow DudeBro.”
“Mm-hmm,” Sammy said, accepting her drink from the bartender. “You’ve come a long way from the guy who kept tagging along on Nate’s dates,” she teased, lifting her glass.
Theo laughed softly, dragging a hand down his face. “God, don’t remind me.”
“I remember one night at Olive Garden—”
“Sammy.”
“—you ordered for both of us like it was your date, too.”
Theo clutched his chest. “I was trying to be helpful!”
“You were all up in my unlimited breadsticks!”
They both burst out laughing just as Nate strolled up, suspiciously eyeing the shared smile between his wife and his best friend.
“What’s so funny?”
Sammy sipped her drink, cool as ever. “Just reminiscing about the time I had to date the Dudebros.”
Nate blinked. “Oh God. The Olive Garden night?”
Theo groaned again. “You guys are never gonna let that die.”
Nate grinned, clapping him on the back. “Not when it was so damn awkward.” Then he squinted, as if something just clicked. “Hey—hey. Speaking of awkward… you got something you wanna confess, Mr. Podcast?”
Theo froze at the bar.
Heart spike. Throat tight.
Had Nate found out?
But they’d been so careful. Had Maya—
“Because, bro, that last episode?” Nate cut in, eyes wide with mock accusation. “It sounds a lot different from your usual stuff.”
Theo blinked. “Wait, what?”
Sammy held up her phone, his podcast lit her screen. “You’re going viral, Teddy. The sexy voice got ‘em riled up.”
It hit him in slow motion.
The episode. That moment with the ghost and the wall—
Theo dropped his face into his hands.
“Oh my God.” His voice came out muffled. “You noticed it.”
“Of course we did.” Sammy patted his back gently. “Nate was playing it on the kitchen speakers and let’s just say, that episode is better for headphones. The story itself was fine, your voice though… ”
“Fuck,” he groaned.
“The ghost didn’t sound scary at all. It sounded like you were inviting her to your bed,” Nate said, clearly delighted. “The internet thinks you’re done with horror.”
Theo scrubbed a hand down his face. “Okay, first of all—absolutely not. I am not done with horror.”
Nate raised both hands in surrender. “Hey, tell the ladies on BookTok. They’re out here splicing your groan into fan edits like it’s a confession.”
“It wasn’t a romance groan,” Theo snapped, a little louder than intended. “It was just—tonal. Atmospheric. I used the wrong register on one sentence. I’m not out here auditioning for book boyfriends.”
Sammy took a slow sip of her drink. “Mmm. Could’ve fooled me.”
“Well, horror is what I do. The dread, the quiet tension, the shit that slithers under the skin, that’s me. That’s what I’m built for. Not all the soft, breathy—” he caught himself, floundering for a way to finish that sentence. “—stuff.”
A small silence followed.
Which was exactly when Maya appeared beside them.
She’d clearly caught enough.
Her voice was cool, polite. “Evening, everyone.”
Theo turned and nearly choked on his drink. “Maya—”
She smiled at Sammy, kissed Nate’s cheek. “You all look so nice tonight.”
“Thanks, sis,” Nate said, pulling her into a side-hug. “Theo was just telling us how he’s not into soft, breathy stuff.”
Maya’s smile didn’t move. But her eyebrows did. “Oh?”
Theo opened his mouth, but she cut in, eyes sharp now.
“Guess I’ll take that as a professional critique.”
He winced. “That’s not what I meant.”
And it really wasn’t.
In trying to distance himself from any connection to Maya, and her project, Theo had overcorrected. He didn’t want Nate, or his very perceptive wife, to connect the dots when neither of them were planning to tell her family what they’d been up to for the last week.
“No?” she said, tone feather-light. “Because it sounded like you were drawing a pretty thick line in the sand. One serious genre over here,” she gestured vaguely, “and all that soft, breathy stuff over there.”
“Maya…” he started, low.
But she smiled again, tight this time. “Don’t worry. I wouldn’t want to confuse your brand.”
And with that, she turned and walked away.
Nate and Sammy exchanged looks.
Theo’s voice was quiet. “I’m a fucking idiot.”
Nate took a sip of his wife’s drink. “She’ll be fine. You didn’t mean it like that.”
“No, Nate.” Theo’s tone was sharper than he meant. “I screwed up. I misspoke. Maya’s a phenomenal writer. I’ve read her stuff. I respect what she does.”
Sammy’s eyebrow lifted. “You’ve read her books?”
“Not all of them,” he said too fast. “A few. Over the years.”
Nate frowned. “…You’ve read my sister’s sex books?”
“Don’t say it like that.”
Nate shook his head. “Look, man. Read what you want. It’s weird, but whatever.”
“It’s not weird at all,” Sammy said with a frown. “Theo’s right—Maya’s a phenomenal writer.”
“She is,” Nate agreed, turning to his wife. “But you missed the part where she’s my sister.”
Sammy scoffed. “Your sister is a grown-ass woman who melts people’s panties with—”
Nate jammed his fingers in his ears. “La la la! I’m not tryna hear that.”
The classic Brooks banter would’ve been hilarious if Theo weren’t standing in the middle of it. Instead, the pit in his stomach only grew as he watched Maya walk further away. This looked terrible, considering she just went on a horror-themed date to make him happy.
His friend turned back to him. “Like I said, read whatever you want. But what you record? That’s different,” his tone more serious. “This media lab thing we’re starting is for kids. I can’t have you out here moaning into mics.”
Theo nodded quickly. “I get it. I do. I’d never bring that energy to anything involving students.”
“Good. Because the way parents are acting these days… I’m not trying to get emails about ‘Scare Daddy corrupting our children.’”
“Oh, brother,” Sammy murmured into her drink.
“I’m serious, Theo,” Nate said flatly.
“I know.” Theo’s voice dropped, almost to himself. “I’ll be careful.”
Someone called Nate’s name from across the ballroom. It was time to set up his slideshow.
He clapped Theo on the back one last time. “Hey man, I’m sorry if it sounds like I want to censor you… it’s just that teachers have to be careful too, you know?”
Theo nodded, heart still hammering. “Yeah. Got it.”
When Nate drifted off to mingle with other guests, Sammy turned back to Theo. “So. You want to try that again? This time without the performance?”
“What performance?”
She raised her cocktail, eyebrows climbing higher. “The one where you acted like reading her old books makes your groans innocent.”
Theo sighed and looked down at his glass like it might offer an escape route. But there was no way out. He needed to tell someone. “She needed a narrator. I offered.”
She stilled. “You’re narrating Sweat?”
“Yeah,” he admitted quietly.
“Jesus.” Sammy let out a single laugh. “You’re the one making her smile. You realize if Nate finds out, he’s gonna flip.”
“I know,” Theo muttered. “By the way, why is that?”
Sammy gave him a look like he’d just asked why the sky was blue.
“Look, I don’t think a little brother should be all up in his sister’s business either,” Sammy said, lowering her voice, “You heard what he said about school. Plus, you’re his best friend.
If whatever it is you and Maya got going on blows up, things are gonna be really awkward.
” She leaned in a little closer. “You weren’t around for the Julian mess, but Nate was.
Watching her go through that? It hurt him almost as much as it hurt her. ”
“I’d never hurt her,” Theo said, sharper than he meant to.
“No, I don’t think you would… intentionally.” Sammy took a slow sip of her drink. “But you did kind of insult her work a minute ago.”
Fuck. Fair point.
She tilted her head. “So… are you still doing the narration?”
He glanced up at her. “Of course.”
Something in her expression softened. “…How bad is it?”
Theo exhaled, his thumb swiping against the condensation on his glass. Even telling Sammy felt dangerous. He wasn’t about to reveal everything.
Not the kiss.
Not the dirty talk.
And certainly not the dry-humping.
“It’s really bad,” he admitted. “But it always has been.”
Sammy’s mouth parted. Then she nodded slowly, like a woman watching a trainwreck in slow motion. “Oh, okay. Then you’re absolutely fucked.”
“She’s brilliant, Sam. And kind. And fierce. And I ruined everything tonight by trying to protect my brand instead of her name.”
“Well… her name is her brand.”
He looked up, guilt written plain across his face. “I know. That’s why I have to fix it.”
Sammy tipped her drink toward him with mock solemnity. “Then fix it. Apologize like a man. And for the love of God, do not let your mic pick up any more sex ghosts.”
“At this point, I’m not sure I can promise that,” he said with a weak laugh.