Twenty-Two
Theo doesn’t interrupt until the emotion has passed through my system, leaving me drained and exhausted. I spend a few silent minutes in the darkness before the door cracks open. He’s standing over me in the sliver of golden light, taking in my puffy eyes and smeared mascara. I’m not ready to leave the closet, but I can’t stay in here forever. With a resigned sigh, I force myself to stand.
“Don’t hug me.” His brows crease in question. “Don’t try to comfort me in any way. I don’t deserve it, and it’ll just make me feel worse for everything I did. I lied to you, and it got between whatever tense relationship you and Ben already have. I’ll answer any questions you have, and then if you never want to see me again, I’ll understand.”
His mouth sets in a frown. He shakes his head before completely ignoring everything I just said. He pulls me into his chest, holding me even tighter than his usual hugs. The tears threaten to come up all over again, but I’m crushed too far into his chest for them to fall. I hold on to him as tightly as I can, sudden and instant relief flooding through me in a way I can’t begin to describe. We’re not two people casually hooking up in this moment. We’re two people who understand each other.
“Don’t cry, Marce.” He wipes the tears from my cheeks with his thumbs. “You think I don’t get how you feel?”
Of course I don’t think that. He’s the only person who could possibly understand what I’m feeling right now. I wonder if he’s berated himself as much as I have over the years. If he hated himself for attempting to break up his brother’s relationship the same way I hate myself for keeping this big a secret from him.
I’m worse between the two of us, too concerned over what other people think of me to tell the truth for once in my life.
“I’m awful.” My voice comes out choked. I try to look away from him, wipe away the fresh onset of tears, but a hand on my chin locks me in place.
“You’re not awful.” His fingers brush my hair away from my tear-stained face. “We’re in the same boat. And it’s gonna sink no matter who knows.”
As odd an analogy as that is, it does just the trick. I let out a surprised laugh, and the side of his mouth quirks slightly in a sad smile. “Boy, do you have a point there,” I say, wiping my nose of snot with the end of my sweater.
“Come over here.” He takes my hand and leads me to his couch. “Do you want anything? Water, coffee…”
“Got anything harder?” I ask mostly as a joke, but when he shakes his head I can’t help but be a little disappointed. “Shame. Guess I’ll take coffee instead.”
He starts a pot, and when he returns there’s a hesitant look in his eyes. “Listen. I can’t be mad at you for not trusting me, but can I ask why you didn’t? I mean, I’m probably the last person you know who could possibly judge you for it.”
“Trust had nothing to do with it,” I say. “I didn’t want you to think differently of me. I was thinking of myself more than I was thinking of you. It was stupid and selfish, and I’m sorry.”
“I forgive you,” he says, and that easy absolution does so much to relieve my conscience. Is it really that easy? “But I wouldn’t say trust doesn’t have anything to do with this.”
“What do you mean?”
“I promised to be honest with you because I trust you.” His eyes are steady on me. “Not because I expected the same from you, but because you held me accountable to do what was right without ever judging me for wanting the opposite.”
And now I’ve broken his trust by lying to him. I shouldn’t be sad to lose something I never knew I had in the first place, but it’s another reminder of how I’ve disappointed him. If I really only saw him as a rebound, I wouldn’t care, would I?
“I want you to trust me, Marcela.” My heart slams in my chest, the sound filling my eardrums as I look at him. “Can you do that?”
“I don’t know,” I admit, and it’s not just because of Angela’s warning from last week, or Ben’s reiteration. He’s just using you to get back at me. I’m not sure who to believe anymore, but that’s not what matters right now. That’s not what’s making my heart race unsteadily right now.
“That’s fair”—he blows out a hard breath—“no matter how much I hate hearing it. We knew what this was when it started. It doesn’t leave much room for trust to be built.”
The trouble is, there were so many times when I let my guard slip with him. When I let myself pretend what we were doing meant something. So many times I almost let myself trust him with everything, until reality pulled me back. Ten days of silence. Warnings from friends that never cease.
And I surely don’t try to convince Alice she’s making the biggest mistake of her life by marrying you.
I have no claim on him—no reason for all my long-buried abandonment issues to resurface. I have no right to be devasted by his opinion of Alice and Ben’s relationship. But damn if it didn’t cut me to the quick anyway. I was so stupid to believe this man wouldn’t have an effect on me, that we’d both come out of this unscathed.
“It’s probably not smart for us to trust each other, to be honest.” I try to shrug, but I’m too tense. His sudden, thunderous expression isn’t helping either.
“I wouldn’t say that,” he says quietly, but the intensity in his stare tells me he’s holding back. He clears his throat. Rakes his hair back with a rough hand. Lets out a groan so loud, I nearly flinch off the couch. “God, I hate this.”
“Not your average casual relationship, huh?” I chuckle to myself at the look of absolute outrage on his face. Then, more seriously, I say, “Listen, I don’t know if trust is something I can promise. Not right away, at least. But I will promise to be honest with you from here on out.”
He nods. “I’d like that.”
“Okay.” I take in a bracing deep breath. “The real reason I kept this secret from you? It’s the same reason I haven’t told anyone. The only reason Angela knows is because she figured it out years ago. I don’t like admitting it because it shouldn’t be true,” I explain. “I wish it wasn’t. I wish I could control my own feelings and see Ben as nothing more than a friend. Not only because it would make things so much easier for everyone, but because I’m sick of being this person.” Tears sting my eyes again at the confession I haven’t even had the courage to tell anyone. Not even Angela.
“I’m not a good person. I lie all the time, every day, just to keep up with this image of the person I wish I was. I thought that I could still be friends with Ben despite my feelings for him, and that was a lie. I thought if I could get over him by hooking up with someone else, I could keep my friendship with him.
“But the reason I keep making up excuses to hold on to him, to keep him in my life is because I’m hoping one day, he’ll… that he’ll leave Alice for me or something. Which just sounds incredibly messed up now that I’ve said it out loud.” I shake my head, even as a humorless laugh burbles from the back of my throat. “That’s probably why I never have until now. And I can’t tell him. I can’t confess any of these feelings when he’s engaged to someone else, but I can’t keep pretending I’m okay with being just friends. I can’t do it. Not when it chips away at me each day. When I have to make up new lies just to appease myself.”
Theo doesn’t say a word, letting me get out years’ worth of baggage. “But if I’ve learned anything the last couple of weeks, it’s that I can’t… I can’t be his friend anymore. It’s not good for me, or for his relationship with Alice. I caught him lying to her once about where he was when he was with me. And it felt good.” I shake my head, hating myself as soon as the words are out. “If I can feel that way about breaking up a relationship…”
“Then that makes me just as bad,” he says. “You stopped me, remember? You easily could’ve let me do that exact same thing and reap any benefits that came with it. But you didn’t. You’re not nearly as bad a person as you think you are. I would know.”
“How can you be so sure?” I ask him. “Maybe I picked you out of all the guys I could possibly rebound with because I knew it’d hurt your brother the most.”
“And maybe I went along with it because I wanted to hurt him just as badly,” he counters.
I sit up, assessing him as if seeing him for the first time.
“You hid something from me, too,” I remind him, not accusingly. As far as the secrets we’ve kept from each other go, his have been far smaller than mine. “You didn’t tell me they already knew.”
“You’re right.” His chest rises with an inhale. “I didn’t.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask him.
“Honestly? I didn’t think I’d need to,” he says. “Not until you told me about the double date. And then I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to think I was using you to prove something to them. That’s not what this was about. Not at all.”
At his admission, I know Angela and Ben are wrong. There was nothing purposeful in the way we came together. We were just two lovesick fiends with feelings for people we shouldn’t have, making the best and worst of a complicated situation.
“We could argue this in circles all night, because love is weird, and not at all like we’re told it is. We’re all capable of the worst depravities just to have a piece of it, but the point is we don’t act on them. We don’t let our bad sides win, no matter what we think we want. That’s what being a good person means.”
I nod, but I’m not entirely convinced yet. His hands cup my cheeks, forcing me to look up at him. “I don’t care how this started, Marcela. If you used me first or I did, but what matters now is that we’re moving on. I’m ready to walk away from Alice for good. The question now is”—he wipes my wet cheeks with his thumbs—“are you ready to walk away from Ben?”
I let in a shaky breath, holding it in my lungs. His eyes pierce into mine, questioning. When I nod, I try to muster all my energy into it. “I am.” I so desperately want this to be true, but I can’t tell if it’s just another lie I’m telling myself. Just like all my other lies.
“Good.” He nods with finality, looking down at me through half lidded eyes. “That’s all I need to know.”
He leans toward me, and our mouths collide in a kiss that wrenches at my core.
Theo kisses me hard enough to bruise, and I return the strength right back—hands tugging at his hair, nails digging into his scalp. His hand finds its way down my jeans, pulling my panties aside. I’m already wet, moaning into his mouth as his hand works fast circles against my clit. My hand makes its way down his jeans to his hard cock to return the favor.
There is no playful teasing or dirty talk as we shed the fabric separating us and pleasure each other. Only the sounds of our breathing and heavy pants, avoiding eye contact as we bring each other over the edge. I left the condoms at my place, so we have to come up with other ways to satisfy each other.
He’s underneath me on the couch, my knees straddling him. My hand works up and down his length as my lips trail kisses down his neck. His hand reaches up to pull my hair, tugging in a way that would be painful if I wasn’t so turned on. I watch his face as he comes undone, biting down on the inside of his hand to hold back his sounds. I kiss him as he comes, lips scorching against mine.
As soon as my hand leaves his jeans, he flips me over until my back hits the cushions. He hovers over me with a devilish glint in his black storm eyes, which are edged with just the hint of blue. Not one to be showed up, I bring the hand that was in his pants up to my mouth and lick my fingers.
He growls, pinning both my wrists over my head and kissing me again, scorching a path down my neck, to my collarbone. I suck in a breath, anticipating what’s coming next. His tongue flicks over one nipple as his thumb plays with the other, twisting and circling. My hips rise of their own accord, aching to meet him. Goddammit. Why didn’t I have the good sense to bring a condom with me?
His mouth closes over the peaked nipple, sucking as his hand pinches the other, causing my insides to jolt. I can’t reach his lap to grind against from this position, and I’m in desperate need of more friction. My nails dig into the skin of his shoulders, hard enough to draw blood. But he doesn’t make a sound as he switches sides, sucking the other nipple as his hand dips between my legs, anticipating my needs.
His kisses trail lower, down my soft stomach to the skin just above my pubic bone. He’s done this before, but I’m aching for his tongue on my pussy all over again. It doesn’t take long for him to sweep aside my panties and drive me wild all over again. I throw my head back, not caring about the sounds coming out of my mouth as his tongue delves into me. It also doesn’t take long for an orgasm to crash over me in waves, my whole body shaking with the force of it.
I let out a satisfied sigh when we finish, resting in each other’s arms. His hands play with my hair, his chin resting at the top of my head. Too many emotions swirl inside me, twisting until I can no longer make heads or tails of them. I shut my eyes, and the next sigh is borne of frustration.
Why did I ever think this was a good idea?
“Do you want to stay?” Theo asks, hands rubbing my bare shoulders in comforting strokes. “We can put a movie on Netflix and talk through the whole thing. That’s our usual thing, right?” He lets out a nervous laugh when I don’t respond right away. “Or we can not talk. Your choice, Marce.”
“Um.” I raise myself from his body. “I think I should probably go.”
“Oh.” He doesn’t hide his disappointment, and it almost makes me want to change my mind. But he doesn’t push me, just says, “Sure. Do you wanna hang out tomorrow?”
“Yeah.” I nod, looking away from his eyes as I search for my discarded clothes. Whatever rush of emotion this is, I need to untangle it on my own. “I’ll call you.”
“Marcela.” He reaches for my wrist, pulling me back to him as he sits up on the couch. His hands cup my face, looking up at me. We’re almost eye to eye this way, him sitting and me standing. “Talk to me. What’s wrong?”
“I think I just need a moment. Too many emotions.” My eyes shut tight as I shake my head, not believing I actually admitted that to him.
“I get it. You don’t want to think about Ben,” he says, and for a moment I’m unsure what to say. I wasn’t even thinking about his brother, but I don’t correct him. “Just please don’t disappear on me. Okay?”
I tell him I won’t, and he lets me get dressed. He goes into a room I don’t recognize as I pull on my jeans and sweater, and I’m putting on my shoes when he comes back out in pajama bottoms and a faded Cowboys T-shirt.
“You sure you’re okay?” he asks as we reach the front door, hands circling around my waist like he doesn’t want me to go. I nod, but I don’t even convince myself.
“I will be,” I say instead, my hand cupping his cheek.
When we kiss goodbye, it’s the most chaste of all our kisses. I don’t know if my heart could take it if there was any trace of heat behind it. As it is, the longer we keep this up, the more confused I get about my own feelings. For him. For Ben. Everything I thought I knew twists and changes into something I never saw coming.
Theo. I never saw him coming.