Henhouse

32. CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Birdsong floated through the open window, harbinger of another rising sun.

The cool grey of predawn was a blanket Effie didn’t want to unfurl from.

A new day meant dealing with the fallout from last night’s dinner, confronting her family, and calling them out for their bad behavior.

Standing up for herself and being the squeaky wheel. The thought alone churned her stomach.

She turned to Theo, his bare chest still rising and falling in cadence with a deep slumber.

Effie wore her usual satin pajamas, but Theo was stripped down to his boxers.

Apparently, he’d been wearing shorts and tees to make her more comfortable but dared express his desire for less clothing last night.

Although, if Effie was being honest it made it far less appealing to remain celibate when the barriers were fewer.

It couldn’t be later than five o’clock but between the chirping birds and her reeling thoughts, Effie knew she was awake for good.

She envied Theo’s ability to sleep through anything—well, when properly outfitted for sleep.

He’d been much more restless beneath the constraints of his modest-making attire.

Effie smiled to herself, the thought of that little discomfort and sacrifice on her behalf making her heart swell.

It was immediately drowned out with worry about how else she might be keeping him constricted.

The sheets clung to her clammy skin as she rolled over to face the open window.

Heat seared through her in waves of humiliation.

The onslaught of her family had done a number on her.

Theo was right, they weren’t shaming him.

They were essentially saying Effie couldn’t handle herself, that she was naive, doe-eyed, and too inexperienced to win the heart of a man like Theo.

A subtle reminder that the way she moved through the world was not enough to find love in someone as handsome, strong, confident, and sensual as Theo Tillerman.

Not that being able to please a man in bed had ever kept their men loyal.

If she thought about it too long it would become a hurt that would be hard to forgive and move past. She didn’t want that, not when all was said and done the Thatcher women were her family, her home.

The air felt heavy in her lungs. Home . It had felt like home in Theo’s arms last night like wherever he existed was where she belonged too.

That was a terrifying thought. Her whole life she’d been taught to only belong to herself.

Theo’s arm landed heavily around her middle as he snuggled into her.

“You’re burning up. Are you feeling okay?

” His voice was thick with sleep, eyes struggling to open in the dim light.

He propped himself up beside her, the back of his hand coming to rest on her forehead like a ye olde thermometer.

Once satisfied that she wasn’t succumbing to the plague, he placed a comforting hand against her cheek.

The cool rush of his skin on hers was a relief.

“Couldn’t fall back asleep,” she murmured. “Thinking too much. ”

“Worrying, you mean.”

“Is there truly a difference?”

“Yes. All worrying is thinking but not all thinking is worrying,” he mused.

“Tell me, are you always so profound before six a.m.?”

“Stick around and you might find out.” He lowered a kiss to her lips, tentative, questioning.

A different kind of heat rushed through her and she tugged him closer with a hand to the back of his neck, greedy for a deep distraction.

Emotion burned her throat. She wanted this, wanted him.

Chloe. Lily. Hannah. Had they wanted him too?

Did she deserve to hold him when they hadn’t?

Her mouth moved against his, letting every pent-up desire wash away the worries she’d drawn in the sand.

She took his bottom lip with her teeth and let her kisses show him how much she wanted him, how much lived on the other side of the line that wouldn’t be crossed.

Theo settled on top of her, his hips between her thighs, and she forgot all of the others’ names for a too-brief moment. Effie decided that this was why people succumbed to physicality; it was an excellent way to keep the serious stuff at bay.

She kissed him harder, and he turned to putty in her hands as her tongue found his, as she raked her nails down his back.

If she could stay in this space of bliss, this moment of connection, they could stay happy.

But Effie’s brain was a force to be reckoned with and it always reached a tipping point where it spoke up, reminded her not to go too far, not to be too vulnerable, not to make plans.

Idiots weren’t the only ones to crash motorcycles.

She pulled back quickly after another deep, claiming kiss. Theo huffed a laugh, his breath uneven, arms shaking. “Well, fuck. Good morning to you too.” He caressed her face and drank her in for a tortuous moment before he rolled back onto his side, head resting on a propped elbow.

Effie looked at him curiosity trumping doubt. “You’re not mad I stopped?”

“Why would I be mad?”

“Because you want more.”

“I want you, Effie. Whatever that looks like. I’m not in any rush, but it’s getting a bit tiring trying to convince you of that.”

“It’s not who you are,” Effie said flatly. “You don’t like to wear pajamas.” He’d already made little sacrifices for her happiness. She didn’t want him to change for her.

Theo jerked to sitting, muscles tensing in what Effie assumed was irritation. “Okay? And who am I?”

He sounded hurt. She supposed that made sense.

She should have stopped it before it turned into an actual argument, but her brain was winning despite the pleas of her heart.

“You’re . . . I don’t know. You’re Theo.

You’re sexy and creative and masculine. You drive a motorcycle and wear leather without looking like a hipster.

You’re a sexual person and use it as a way to see if a relationship is worth pursuing.

” Theo. Salted caramel chocolates. Sexy .

Cinnamon sticks. Relationship . Royal icing.

“If you were being you then you’d have bedded me to see if we were a good fit.”

“Bedded you?” Theo’s brows reached his luscious hairline. He took a deep breath. Then another. She’d seen him meditate, sage swirling around him on his pouf in the corner of the apartment, but this felt forced. This felt like a tool to keep a lid on his temper. She didn’t care for it.

But it seemed to work because his voice when it emerged wasn’t angry or measured. It was earnest in a heartbreaking kind of way.

“I like how our relationship is going. I like learning new ways of being intimate. I like that I am doing things with you in a way I’ve never done before. It feels right because this isn’t like anything I’ve known before. Effie, I lo—”

“Don’t.” The word escaped before she could leash it.

Theo deflated. Her strong, confident, charismatic man slumped at her rejection. “Why are you doing this?”

It was an excellent question, one that likely required a good deal of the shadow work Theo was fond of.

But the truth was usually the simplest answer, and the one that came to the surface was “Because I’m not like you.

I don’t know how to be daring and brave.

I like to know things with certainty, to be able to predict them.

I’m not here to try things on to see if they fit.

I go out with a list, of sizes, colors, and fabrics.

I carve out space for what matters to me, but I don’t fall hard or fast. I don’t want or yearn or imagine anything intangible .

. . And I don’t say things unless I know I mean them for good. ”

How Theo had elicited such a verbose confession was beyond her. The crush of flavors on her tongue made her want to vomit.

“You don’t fall, because it’s not a risk you’re willing to take.”

Effie couldn’t deny that. Hadn’t Hope said the same thing all those weeks ago? But it hurt coming from Theo. It stung to know he saw that in her, that cowardice and shielding, even if it wasn’t his fault it was plain to see.

“And for the record, I’ve not said it without meaning it for good either.”

“You have or else you wouldn’t be here with me. You’d still be with her . Whichever her you actually loved out of the list of many.”

Theo rubbed the grief from his eyes. “That’s not .

. . Never mind. I can’t promise that things are always going to stay the same, but it doesn’t change how I feel.

It doesn’t mean that I won’t do everything in my power to keep us together and happy.

I need you to believe that you and me . .

. it’s different. It’s new. For fuck’s sake, Effie, I don’t know how else to prove it to you. ”

“Maybe you can’t,” Effie mumbled. It had less to do with Theo and more to do with Effie not being able to take a leap of faith.

She hoped he heard the distinction, that it wasn’t his shortcomings that would mean he couldn’t prove his feelings for her, but her own.

This conversation was proof enough of that .

“Why are you here?”

The question startled her. She fumbled for a response. “Because I like being with you.”

“Why?”

“Theo, come on. You know why.”

“You won’t take me at my word, but I’m supposed to take you at yours? Trust that you find me charming and handsome and compatible? You’re not harboring some desire for me to be more than this? Taller or funnier or less spiritual?”

“What? Of course not. Taller would be too tall, you’re already six two,” Effie teased trying to reel this back in a bit, but Theo didn’t acknowledge it.

“But you know you want to be with me, even if you don’t know everything? When will you know if it’s forever? When will you know that this is a carved-out part of your life and I’m not just someone you’re trying on?”

“Stop, you’re twisting my words.” Her own felt sour on her tongue. She stood firmly on a runaway train now.

“Am I? Or is it as ridiculous as you questioning my feelings because we haven’t had sex yet?”

Effie’s cheeks flushed. Suddenly the room was too small, the sheets itched like wool on a hot day.

She flung the covers off needing the air.

Though they were exploring new territory together, she knew Theo was being patient.

He would wait to be intimate, but he wouldn’t wait long for her to allow him his true feelings.

Effie didn’t have answers, none that would get past the mountain of doubts that buried the key to her voice box.

She wanted to say how she felt. She wanted him to say it too, but it was too much.

She had to be certain. It was too dangerous otherwise.

“It took Hope and Brayden a year to say that to each other,” she said her voice so small and thin.

“We aren’t them.”

“It’s too soon.”

“Says who? You? Or is this some Thatcher theory that doesn’t hold water?”

Effie bristled at the mention of her family. “Leave them out of this.”

“I’d love to . . . sorry. I’d like to but they seem inextricably tied to your inability to give yourself fully to this relationship.”

“And you’re so devoted? You’ve had a string of relationships supposedly looking for the one and all of a sudden you’re a new man?”

Theo took a deep breath, before confessing, “Usually, when you find what you’re looking for you stop looking.” He stared longingly at her as he fixed his dark round glasses on his nose.

Effie’s stomach dropped. That might have been worse than what he was going to say before. This had heft. This was the whole of it, heavy and raw and bleeding out with every beat of silence that she left his declaration unanswered.

“You can’t possibly know that.”

“Why not? Because you don’t?”

“No, because . . . you just can’t. I’m not that special. I’m not worth waiting for. I’m not enough to be the answer to your prayers.”

“And why not?” She ignored the sorrow that drenched his words. Sorrow that she couldn’t see it his way, that she thought so little of herself.

“You just can’t know it already!” Effie stood now, clutching a pillow to her chest.

“I do!”

“You don’t! It’s not how this works. You can’t just know things!”

“The sky is blue, Effie. Let it be a fact!”

“That still doesn’t make any sense!” Effie yelled, her nerves shaking her bones. She moved for the door on silent feet.

“Effie, please don’t go.”

“I shouldn’t be worried at every turn that you’re going to realize I’m not what you want.

” With that she grabbed her clothes and crept out the door, not bothering to mention that that fear was wholly her own.

She didn’t give credence to the thought that she ruined this before it started, that she was running back home, fulfilling the predictions of her lovelorn family, and hiding from what might be because she was too afraid it wouldn’t last.