Mia #4
I opened my mouth, surprised, and my immediate reaction was to ask if we could go back to my place instead. But something about the way he stared at me, the intensity of it, made me change my mind.
Theo’s Apartment
Theo came out of his bathroom dressed in basketball shorts and a soft tee, and I just… ugh. What a horribly wonderful thing to see after tripping into his spacious, dual-level apartment.
I was still quietly freaking out about seeing Kira’s backpack in the hallway when Theo led me through his home.
His aesthetic reminded me of his office in South Bronx, which made sense, I guess, since he owned and managed the practice. It was bright and airy, but without a feminine slant to it.
I almost thought his space also had no personality to it, but after he introduced me to the deep cushions of his oversized sofa–which sat in front of his sixty-inch, wall-mounted flatscreen–I got to see his study, and cripes, that was full of nothing but personality.
Rows and rows of Dungeons & Dragons–or so I was told–iconic statue replicas sat on shelves amid posters of musicians from the eighties. His collection seemed to point their attention at Theo’s sturdy oak desk, which, of course, he built himself.
The lacquered wood was beautiful, and when he showed me the other rooms in his apartment, including Kira’s, I could make out more of his handiwork. He really was the kind of father who built his daughter’s bed.
And for some reason, knowing it wasn’t enough. Seeing it for myself, seeing where they lived–that was what made it real for me.
“You’re a father,” I said lamely.
He gave me a funny look. “Yeah. I’ve been one for almost eighteen years.”
I waved a hand at Kira’s room as he led me down the hallway. “I know, but I didn’t really know.”
He seemed to understand something was wrong then. He put both hands on my arms and looked into my face. “Hey, right now, it’s just you and me.”
I shook my head. “No, Theo. It’s not about you and me. Isn’t that the point?”
I pushed his hands away and walked around him. My signed books were resting on his six-seat dining table, and I snatched them up on my way to the front door.
“Woah, hey. Mia, wait. If this makes you uncomfortable, we don’t have to stay here.”
I pulled my bag over my shoulder, straightening the twisted strap. “I think this is where we should call it. I think I’m done now.”
I turned to go, but made the mistake of looking up. My eyes snagged on his gorgeous, tortured face.
Theo had one hand on his hip, the other rubbing across his chin.
“You’re… done?”
I could hear the two words he didn’t say–with me–as if he’d said them anyway.
I hugged my arms around myself. I should just go. Coming here was a mistake. I knew it the moment I set foot inside. Whatever spell Theo and I had wrapped around ourselves at my apartment died the second I tripped over Kira’s backpack.
“I have to be. We spent the whole weekend together. And I can’t do… that with you in the same place your daughter sleeps.”
I couldn’t even say it, let alone do it.
His stare burned into my skin. He came closer, his steps slow and careful. “Then don’t. I’ll do whatever you want to do. Just… stay. Please. I’m not done yet.”
Nervously, I uncrossed my arms and fidgeted with the clasp of my bag. My mouth felt dry, and I tried to buy some time by pulling out my small bottle of water. Instead, my fingers brushed against the two boozy bingo cards I’d made last Sunday.
I’d crossed out twelve squares this week. Which meant I got to drink six shots of whatever I wanted. The other six were usually for Lilly.
God, I missed her. It had been weeks since I told her that lie after our meeting with Ashley, and I’d felt on edge around her ever since. I just wanted to be able to tell my best friend about this thing I did. This six-foot-three, oddly charming thing.
And I wanted to do it over a drink.
I held up the cards. “Will you boozy bingo with me?”
Theo frowned, then came close enough to read one of my crossed-out boxes. “‘Drink whenever Gem calls one of the students a telenovela star in the making’?”
I let him take one of the sheets. “She loves telenovelas. They’re her thing.”
He raised a brow at the card in his hand. “And drinking whenever Lilly gushes about Shawn’s thighs is a thing too?”
I pointed at the paper. “That’s Mr Jackson, one of our other teachers. They’re dating, and she gushes about his thighs a fair bit. Honestly, it’d be weird if I didn’t drink.”
He turned the sheet around in his hand, looked at me, and asked, “You’ll stay if I play this game with you?”
I nodded. “First, we drink the twelve drinks I’ve earned, then I make new cards for next week.”
He frowned. “This is… an odd game, Mia.”
I gave him what had to be a flustered little grimace, then held my hand out for the card. “That’s me. I’m odd and sarcastic and probably too inappropriate to be what you’d call a proper teacher, and I’m fine with that. If you don’t want to play, then–”
He kept the card out of my reach and said, “No. That’s not what I meant. I want to do this with you.”