Twelve
sadie
When I woke, the throbbing at the base of my skull registered first, then the ceiling fan above me. Not the sky.
I squinted, confused. My last memories were of Brynn—her coughs and laboured breaths. The blood on her cardigan.
She’d be dead by now, in a car that had become her coffin.
I let the image sit for a minute, remembering her like I’d said I would, then shifted my focus to more immediate concerns.
Where am I?
I tried to sit up, but the thudding turned into splitting pain. With a groan, I squeezed my eyes shut and lowered my head again, resting on something soft. A pillow? There was a blanket covering me, too. Strange.
“Take it easy,” a man’s voice said from the other side of the room.
“Tim?”
Footsteps came closer, then the man sat in front of me, bringing with him a disturbingly familiar scent, warm and woodsy. I cracked my lids and found Theo wearing a mask, propped on the edge of a coffee table I hadn’t seen before. “Not Tim.”
“Sorry to disappoint.” He leaned forward and touched my forehead with the back of his hand, his fingertips cool against my skin. “How are you feeling?”
“Like death.”
“Well, you’re alive, so… yay.”
I would have smiled, but there were too many questions that needed answers. “Is this your apartment?” I asked, hearing the croak in my throat. “Why am I here? How did I get here?”
He blinked. “Yes. You hit your head. Tim texted, and I brought you home.” He paused, then added, “And I carried you up here from my car.”
“Up four flights? Are you crazy?”
“Apparently.”
Theo’s perpetually rumpled hair was wet, and rain tapped a steady beat against the windows.
My clothes didn’t feel the slightest bit damp.
Alarm bells clanged, and I ran my hand over my hair, then felt around under the blanket and checked I was still wearing the jumper and leggings I’d left my house in.
He gave me a patient look, part frustration, part amusement. “I didn’t undress you while you were unconscious. You hardly got wet between the car and the building, so you can relax.”
Unlikely. Being around him always caused the opposite reaction. “Sorry, I had to make sure.” I tugged my trapped hair out from under my shoulder. “You could have dropped me off at my apartment. It’s right next door.”
“Just… dump and run?” His gaze moved over me, his eyes more intense when the rest of his features were covered. “Someone needed to keep an eye on you, and my place made the most sense.”
Or he could have carried me up one less flight and left me with Tim and Varesh—one of whom had been exposed to the virus. “Thanks for watching over me,” I said. “Why was I unconscious in the first place?”
“Tim knows more than I do, but I’ll explain what I can.”
He recounted what went on after I left the building. Some parts I remembered, like the crash and Brynn. Other details I’d forgotten—the cyclist bowling me over and my head hitting the ground.
Dustin’s use of the master keys was new and unsettling information, too.
“This is too much,” I said. “I can’t focus right now.”
I draped my forearm over my eyes and swallowed, noting the rawness in my throat. Rain hit the windows, and the refrigerator hummed, but the mundane sounds did nothing to calm my mind.
“Do you need something for your headache?” he asked.
I lowered my arm and found him watching me—studying me, really. The weight of his gaze sent a rush of awareness through me. “I could use some aspirin.”
Seemingly happy to have something to do, Theo pushed off the coffee table and wandered into the kitchen, opening cupboards and rustling through the contents.
“Oh, I found out who my sugar mama is today,” he called out. “Know anything about that?”
My eyes widened, and I swore under my breath. I couldn’t see him from my position, but he sounded more confident than curious.
“No, but that’s such a kind gesture,” I said. “Someone must think highly of you.”
“You think so?”
“I do.” I squeezed my eyes shut. “Why else would they do something like that?”
The clink of a glass came from the kitchen, followed by the sound of running water. In no time at all, Theo returned and dropped a couple of tablets into my palm.
He lowered himself onto the coffee table and pinned me with his gaze. “Sadie.”
“Hmm?”
“I never picked you for the type to throw money at problems instead of working through them,” he said, dangling the half-full glass between his knees.
His tone came off lighthearted—teasing even—but there was a glimmer of something deeper. I wished I had a full view of his face so I could read his mood better.
“Money solved the problem,” I said, tempted to tug his mask down. “There was nothing to work through.”
His eyes never left mine. “If you say so.”
His disappointment made my stomach drop. “Wait, what does that mean?”
“You took the easy way out instead of talking to me about it first.”
I sat up and cried out involuntarily at the construction site in my head. “Are you angry with me for clearing your debt?” I asked, pressing my palm to my temple. “It got Dustin off your back and gave you some breathing space. I was trying to help.”
He raised his brows in a way I found stupidly attractive. “You cleared my debt for you, not me.”
The husky edge to his voice caused a sweet pull inside me. I ignored it and threw back the aspirin, taking the glass from his outstretched hand. With a long drink and a swallow, I handed it back to him again.
“I was mean to you,” I said. “I had to make up for it somehow.”
I’d been lying on a brown leather couch with a matching recliner beside it, both well-worn and full of character—just like the jeans and t-shirts he threw on every day. The Persian-style rug beneath the coffee table appeared to be vintage, too.
“The conversation afterwards made it up to me,” he said, setting the glass beside him.
I stared at him a moment longer, then looked away and took in his surroundings for the first time.
A collection of black and white photos were displayed in a grid on the wall beside a gigantic TV, and the book he’d shown me yesterday sat on the entertainment unit beneath it.
Alongside the book, a child’s drawing had been framed and positioned front and centre—a man with a big head and tiny sticks for arms and legs, no doubt a gift from his niece.
Every detail pointed toward warmth and human connection, a people person forever searching for his tribe.
With a rush of regret, my posture deflated. I met his eyes and huffed out a sigh. “You’re right,” I said. “I'm sorry. It wasn’t my decision to make.”
My cheeks were burning up, and I desperately wanted to lose myself in peace and darkness at home.
His gaze softened as he looked me over. “For the record, no one’s ever done anything like that for me before," he said. "I appreciate the gesture, but it would have been nice to be included in the decision making part of it.”
“I just wanted to wipe the smirk off Dustin’s face,” I said, remembering the haughty way he’d looked at Theo. “He acts as if he’s better than you, but he keeps making himself look worse.”
He nodded thoughtfully, the quiet stretching on, then his eyes took on a playful glimmer. “Is that the only reason?”
I frowned and tucked my hair behind my ear. “I already said I felt bad about being rude to you.”
“That’s it?”
The pieces clicked into place, and I rolled my eyes, fighting a smile. “Fine. I did it because I like you, okay?”
Why did saying it out loud make my heart hammer?
Theo sat back in victory. “There it is. Finally.”
I couldn’t hold back my smile anymore. “Happy now?”
“I knew we’d get there in the end.” His eyes crinkled at the edges. “I like you, too.”
God, why did hearing it make my heart hammer even harder?
As my headache thudded and rain slid down the windows, another thought occurred to me, and I patted the side pocket in my leggings. “Where’s my phone?” I asked, scrambling around under the blanket. I leaned over the side of the couch and scanned the floor.
“On the kitchen bench.”
My head snapped up, and I immediately regretted it, blinking away a kaleidoscope of colours. “It still works?”
Theo nodded, staring at me like I’d lost my mind. “The screen wasn’t smashed if that's what you mean.”
I couldn’t remember the details of her message, but Ava had texted and told me something had changed. Something important. “Can you get it for me? Please? I need to talk to my sister.”
“About what happened?”
“No.” I eased out a slow breath. “She texted just before the crash, and I never got the chance to read it.”
Unable to sit still, I rose from the couch and remained in a hunched position to fight off a wave of nausea.
Theo stood and clasped my shoulders, steadying me. “Why don’t you sit down? I’ll grab it for you, and you can do whatever you need to do from the couch.”
“I’m awake now. I can go home. You don’t need to baby me.”
“I might as well,” he said with a smile in his voice. “You’re acting like one.”
I scoffed, unsure if I was annoyed or amused.
He captured my chin and used his other hand to lift one of my eyelids, then the other, his gentle touch making me forget about my condition. I kept quiet and took in the dark lashes framing his eyes, the thoughtful way he scrutinised me. My heart beat faster, and I almost held my breath.
If he noticed my reaction, he gave nothing away.
When he was done inspecting me, his hand lingered before he released me.
“Do I get the all-clear, Doctor?” I could still feel his touch.
“Your pupils are dilated,” he said. “You’ve got a concussion.”
“I can have a concussion at my place.”
He sighed. “I had no clue you were this stubborn.”
“I don't mean to be, but I’m fine on my own. I can take care of myself. ”
Theo considered me for a long moment, the air between us thickening as the silence dragged on. “I know,” he finally said. “You’re self-reliant to a fault—but I’m here, and I want to help you. Will you let me help?”
The thought of handing myself over to someone and letting them care for me was such a foreign concept, my body swayed toward him as the pull to surrender took hold of me.
Something told me he could get whatever he wanted with very little effort. “You win," I said. "I’ll stay here. But I need to get a few things from home.”
“If you see Dustin—“
“Dustin can go fuck himself,” I said casually. “If he comes anywhere near me, I’m feeling just rabid enough to punch him in the throat.”
That got an amused breath out of him. “Remind me never to piss you off.”
“Too late, I’m afraid.”
Theo’s laugh had me biting back a smile.
I blinked against the fresh wave of pain in my temple and held out my hand. “Do you have my keys and phone?”
“Wait a second.” He jogged over to the kitchen and returned with my belongings, then opened the door and checked the hallway.
Despite what he’d told me about our notorious building manager, Dustin was nowhere to be seen.
“I’ll leave my door open,” he said. “You do the same. If you need help while you’re gone, just yell. ”
“Deal.” The ache in my throat told me I wouldn’t be doing any yelling for a while. My body blazed with an unnatural heat, and I turned my face into my shoulder, smothering a cough. “I won’t be long.”
Theo looked me over. “Are you feeling all right?” he asked, reaching out as if to check my forehead again.
“I’m fine,” I said, dodging his hand. “All good.”
The aspirin would kick in soon, and by then, I’d be on the road to recovery.
I hid another cough as I walked away from him, and ignored the urge to look over my shoulder.
Just when had I become so adept at lying to myself?