Chapter 17 Behavioral Drift #2
His laugh rumbles against me, low and unfiltered, and the sound goes straight through me. He’s hot everywhere our bodies touch, smelling of bourbon and the clean, warm something that’s just… him.
I go tense, every cell screaming move, but I can’t. My thoughts scatter, his heat sinking into me, melting through every objection I’ve ever had. It’s absurd, infuriating, and entirely unfair how easy he makes it to forget the rest of the world is still spinning around us.
He shifts beneath me, just enough that his hand is free to come up—clumsy and warm—to cup my cheek. His thumb moves to the center of my lips and presses there. His eyes are half open, and the way he’s looking at me knocks the breath right out of me.
“So perfect,” his words are a bit slurred, “let me be your boyfriend for real.”
I panic, hoping no one else in the room heard him say that.
I open my mouth to tell him he’s drunk, that he doesn’t know what he’s saying—but he’s already gone. His head lolls back against the couch, his fingers still curved against my face, apparently not getting the memo to let go.
For a long moment, I just sit there, caught between amusement and something that feels a lot like fondness. Then I sigh, because of course this is how the night ends—with Theo passed out and Baryn somewhere in the background, probably enjoying every second of this perceived humiliation.
I finally look up, and of course Baryn’s staring at us, leaned back in the armchair, watching the scene like it’s peak entertainment.
“Don’t,” I warn. “Don’t say a word.”
He raises both hands in mock surrender. “I wouldn't dream of it.”
“Good,” I snap. “Then make yourself useful. Help me get him up.”
Baryn just glares at me. “You want me to carry your boyfriend?”
“Yes. Pick him up before I decide to test how much blunt force trauma it takes to wipe that pompous look off your face.”
Emily hiccups a laugh from somewhere near the floor, where she’s halfheartedly collecting the cards. “I’ll get the door!” she declares, overly proud of herself for offering to help.
Theo mumbles something incoherent and slumps further into the couch.
“Perfect,” I huff.
Baryn narrows his eyes, sets down his drink, and moves toward us. “You know, I’ve been called many things, Lila, but ‘useful’ isn’t usually one of them.”
“First time for everything,” I say, grabbing Theo’s arm while Baryn takes the other. He’s heavy, and it’s awkward, to the extent that I can’t help much because he’s so much fucking taller than I am.
Emily staggers ahead, holding the door open. “You guys are doing great,” she slurs unhelpfully.
“Emily,” I say through gritted teeth, “please stop talking.”
Baryn grunts as we maneuver Theo down the hall. “You know, for someone who hates me, you’re awfully demanding.”
“I’m restraining myself from homicide,” I shoot back. “Helpmehe’ssliding!”
Theo’s head drops against the top of mine, breath warm in my hair, and Baryn chuckles under his breath.
“Shut up,” I say again, because it’s the only thing I can manage while holding up a drunk man, tolerating a perfidious one, and praying Emily doesn’t trip and take us all down with her.
By the time we reach the bedroom, I’m sweating, and Theo’s groaning something about unfair elections. It takes both of us to get him onto the bed.
“You’re welcome,” Baryn says, straightening his sleeves.
I glare. “Get out.”
He steps back with a low laugh and a mock salute. I don’t watch him leave. I’m too busy trying to maneuver Theo fully onto the mattress.
He’s useless—half-awake, heavy, mumbling nonsense into the top of my head.
When he finally situates himself, he tugs at my sleeve again, nearly taking me down with him.
“Theo,” I hiss, shoving at his shoulder. “Help me, help you. Jesus.”
His eyes open just enough to find me. “You smell good,” he says. “Distraction-y.”
“That’s not a word.”
“Should be.” He grins like he’s just discovered something profound. “How about you-y? That’s a compliment. A big compliment.”
“Still not a word, I’m afraid.” I bite my lip to keep from laughing.
“You smell trouble-ish,” he giggles, a sound I previously would have bet a million dollars I’d never hear.
Before I can say anything else he collapses backward onto the bed, one arm still curled lazily around my waist, the other reaching for the pillow and missing entirely. I have to pry his hand loose, spewing a string of threats I don’t mean. His laugh fades into a contented sigh, eyes already closed.
By the time I maneuver his tie off his neck and his shoes off his feet and pull the blanket over him, I realize my cheeks hurt from smiling.
I smooth the blanket one last time, ready to step away, when his fingers catch my wrist again.
“Shouldn’t look at me like that,” his fingers loosen but don’t let go. “Makes me think about things.”
I am frozen in place.
His eyes drift shut again, lashes settling on his cheeks. “Too many things,” he breathes. “Things I shouldn’t say. Things I try not to feel. You make everything feel good and right and easy.”
He rubs his thumb over the backs of my knuckles. “God, I love when you look at me,” he whispers. “Love you. Been half in love with you since… always.”
The words fall from his lips without caution, without shields, soft and messy and absolutely real.
And then—just as quickly—he’s gone, sinking back onto the bed, hand sliding from mine as his breathing evens out.
I stand there, heart hammering, the room suddenly too small to hold what he just said. However I thought this night would end, it wasn’t with my entire world rearranging around his voice saying he loves me.
It wasn’t with him speaking aloud the one thing I’ve been terrified to admit to myself or anyone else I might feel for him too.
Calla: Murder update please.
Serena: Also did you real kiss Theo yet or are we still playing the “this is totally fake” game?
Lila: No kiss.
I opt to leave out the rest, because the updates I do have for them feel much bigger than a kiss or anything physical that could have possibly happened between me and Theo since the last time I talked to them.
I’m not ready to say it. Not ready to believe it even happened, Theo drunk as he was or not.
Calla: Move it along on all fronts, Jennings.
Lila: Theo calls me that sometimes.
Serena: ThEo CaLlS mE tHaT sOmEtImEs
Lila: So tired. Long night. Bourbon may have been involved.
Serena: Oh god, what did he do?
Lila: Nothing. Everything. I don’t know.
Calla: WHAT HAPPENED
Serena: Was there touching?? There was touching, wasn’t there? Caps Lock CONFIRM TOUCHING.
He touched the rawest part of my sad little heart.
Lila: Have I mentioned how much I hate you?
Calla: You love us. Now go back to your fake domestic bliss and let us know if anything explodes. Figuratively or otherwise.