Chapter 18
BECCA
I’m surprisingly rested when I wake up the next morning, considering how little sleep I actually managed to get.
With Theo directly across the hall—sound really does carry in this house—I was constantly aware of him.
Every creak of his mattress. Every step across the floor.
Not to mention the memory of his parting words last night. I really like you in my shirt.
Is he kidding me?
If this keeps up all week, I might not sleep at all.
My phone buzzes from the nightstand beside me, and I reach over to scoop it up. There’s a text from my mom.
Mom
Good morning! We have coffee and bagels in the kitchen when you’re ready to eat. Kim and I are heading into town to pick up a few groceries. No big plans for today. Just lounging by the pool or heading out to the beach. See you soon!
I stare at the ceiling, somehow feeling eager to see Theo and terrified to see him at the same time.
I can’t help but feel like I’m standing on the precipice of something big. If I were to actually consider dating Theo, we wouldn’t be starting something new. We’d be going back to something we already know in our bones.
Back then, we knew each other better than we knew anyone.
It might have started as something youthful, a pair of smitten teenagers fumbling through our first serious relationship.
But we were together for almost two years.
We grew into adults together, taught each other how to love with our hearts, our minds, our bodies.
I close my eyes, snatches of memories flooding my mind in rapid succession.
Whispered words, gentle kisses, touches that lit my skin on fire.
The first time, Theo asked me three different times if I was sure, just to hear me say my answer hadn’t changed.
But I’d never been so sure of anything. For better or worse, loving him was so overwhelming, it felt inevitable.
Like it was the only place for all those feelings to go.
I don’t know how to think about now without the context of then. It makes everything seem bigger, like the stakes are higher somehow.
I climb out of bed and stretch, then peek into the hallway to look for Theo. The bathroom is empty, and his bedroom door is open, the light off, so I’m guessing he’s already downstairs.
I hurry into the bathroom to pee and brush my teeth, then I head back to my room to put on the bikini I bought right before my trip.
I needed a new suit anyway, but now that I’m here, about to put it on, I’m wondering if I was feeling a little too bold when I was shopping.
I shouldn’t have taken Mia with me. She always pressures me into buying things I’d never buy if I were shopping on my own.
The suit is black, which is good, at least, but I don’t remember the butt being quite so cheeky.
I do love the top, though. My boobs aren’t half the size of Mia’s, so I often struggle to find tops that accentuate my smaller cup size without looking like I’m trying too hard.
I want to look like I have boobs but not like I want my boobs acquainted with my ears.
With the suit on, cheeky bottoms and all, I turn back to the dresser to find my swimsuit coverup. Except, the one I find isn’t the one I packed. I bought it just for this trip, and it was so cute. Flowy and long and breathable and absolutely perfect.
This one is totally different. It’s short and mostly sheer and not at all like something I would buy.
“Mia,” I grumble, then I turn and flop onto my bed so I can reach for my phone.
Becca
You think you’re funny, don’t you?
Mia
Generally, yes. But in this instance, I need more context.
Becca
WHERE IS MY SWIMSUIT COVERUP?
Mia
Oh. Right. It’s at the bottom of your dirty clothes hamper.
Becca
MIA.
Mia
I’m sorry! It was for your own good. It made you look like a retired congresswoman on holiday in the Hamptons.
Becca
It did not. It was cute!
Mia
It would be cute on your mom. But you’re young! And so very hot. Please just trust me. The one I packed for you is so much better.
Becca
It’s bad enough you pressured me into buying a bikini that doesn’t cover my butt cheeks. But this is a step too far.
Mia
Just put it on. If you still want to argue after you see it on your actual body, then we can keep arguing.
Becca
Fine. But you’re going to be wrong about this.
Mia
I’ll be here when you come back to say I’m not at all wrong but perfectly exactly right.
Becca
FINE. I admit it. You were right. This coverup is actually very cute.
Mia
SEE? I knew you’d love it.
Becca
It feels like magic. Somehow it covers me in all the right places so I’m not just all out there, but it also makes me feel sexy.
Mia
Because it’s sheer, but not COMPLETELY sheer. Send me a picture. I bet you look fab.
Becca
K. Hang on.
Mia
WOMAN. You look smoking hot. Now hit the beach and find yourself a man.
Oh. Oh. Mia still doesn’t know that Theo’s here.
I stand and peek out my bedroom door, double-checking I’m still alone upstairs. The coast is clear, so I step back into my room, close the door, and sit down to call Mia.
We talk for at least thirty minutes, our conversation more therapeutic than I expect it to be.
“Girl,” Mia says when I finally finish filling her in. “I can’t decide if I’m more surprised your mom did this in the first place or that you agreed to stay. What have you done with the old Becca?”
“I think I left her in Atlanta with my swimsuit coverup.”
Mia cackles. “As you should have. So what are you going to do?”
“I have no idea,” I say. “Just try to get through the week? Keep reminding myself I’m not seventeen anymore?”
“What’s the vibe from him? Does he seem interested?”
“Umm,” I say, letting out a little laugh. “He’s very flirty.” I’m not sure why, but I don’t tell her what I heard from my mom about his potential interest. I’m not sure I want to say it out loud yet. Or admit how it made me feel.
“Yeah, he is,” Mia says. “For real, Becca. No matter what happens or how any of this turns out, I do think it’ll be good for you.”
I’m quiet for a beat before I ask, “Do you remember when you told me you looked up Theo’s dating history? And you thought all the playboy stuff was just rumors?”
“Yeah, I remember,” she says.
“What made you think that?”
“It was mostly just the vibe I got,” she says.
“Like, he’s clearly been photographed with a lot of women.
But legit, none of them have ever said anything bad about him.
If he were truly a player, I feel like there would at least be some Reddit threads dogging on him.
But there’s basically no dirt. Have you seriously not searched him yourself?
All that time I saw you on Instagram, and you never looked for old girlfriends? ”
“I didn’t on purpose,” I say. “I don’t know that I could without getting in my head about it.”
“Yeah, I get that. But I’m not sure it’s a big deal. If something happens between you two, it’s probably worth a conversation. But really truly, it’s probably just a lot of internet hype.”
“K. Good to know. Thanks, Mia.”
“Of course. Now, get your bikini-clad butt out to the beach so Theo can swoon over how hot you are. I’m extra glad I swapped out the bottoms of your suit now that I know you have someone to impress.”
“I knew these bottoms were different!” I say. “You little sneak.”
“Tell me you don’t look amazing in them,” Mia says. “I have a pair in a different color, and I swear they work miracles.”
I only grumble in response because she’s right, and she knows she’s right. Cheeky or not, these bottoms are more flattering than the ones I was planning to buy.
“I have serious questions about how you managed to do this without me noticing,” I say.
“It was literally so easy,” she says. “You handed me your stuff and said you were going to pee and could I meet you at checkout. I just put the ones you wanted back on the rack and grabbed the cheeky ones instead. Then you paid for them, totally clueless about the switch.”
“So you’re saying I did this to myself,” I say dryly.
“You totally did. Okay, I gotta go,” Mia says. “But keep me posted, all right? If anything happens, call immediately.”
We say goodbye, and I head downstairs to the kitchen, keeping an eye out for Theo. I have no idea if he’s here. Maybe he went shopping with our moms? Or he could be on the beach or by the pool.
My stomach rumbles when I catch sight of the bagels, and I pop one into the toaster before pouring myself a mug of coffee.
Down the hall, I hear the clink of metal, like weights settling back onto a rack, and I make my way toward the sound.
Sure enough, past the master bedroom, I find a small room outfitted as a gym, with a treadmill against the wall and a stationary bike, as well as a weight bench and bar and a rack full of free weights.
Theo is standing in front of the weights, shirtless, his back toward me, curling a pair of enormous dumbbells.
They have to be fifty, maybe sixty pounds each.
He has headphones on and hasn’t noticed I’m here, so I linger a moment longer than I otherwise would, admiring the curve of his muscles, the definition of his back.
I used to watch him lift weights all the time, but he’s twice the man he was in high school. Taller, broader, much more defined.
Still, there’s something about this scene that triggers a sense of déjà vu. My eyes trace down his back. Just above his waistband, above his left hip, there’s a diamond of freckles I once connected with a Sharpie, like I was playing connect the dots.
The freckles are still there. Right where they always were.
Theo reracks the weights, and I dart away from the door, stepping back into the shadowy hallway before he sees me watching him. I hurry back to the kitchen where my bagel has already popped and make quick work of slathering it with the pineapple cream cheese I find in the fridge.
Moments later, Theo comes into the kitchen, AirPods out, a towel draped over his shoulder.
He’s glowy and glistening and absolutely gorgeous, and it’s all I can do not to stare.
“Good morning,” I manage to squeak out. “Have a good workout?”
He moves to the fridge and fills up his water bottle, then slowly looks me over. His gaze makes me twitchy, but not in a bad way. In an I really hope he likes what he sees way. “Not bad, considering the lack of equipment,” he says. “How are you? Sleep well?”
“Well enough.” I return the cream cheese to the fridge, then pull out the coffee creamer, moving back to the counter so I can add it to my mug.
To my surprise, Theo moves up behind me. He pulls his own mug out of the cabinet in front of me, then slowly fills it with coffee. He isn’t touching me, but he is standing very close. Close enough for me to feel the warmth of him, to catch the musky scent of his sweaty body.
“I’m glad you slept well,” he says, his voice low and close to my ear. “I had a harder time of it.”
“Did you?” I ask without turning around.
“I’d forgotten how distracting it is to be close to you.”
I suck in a breath. His tone is suggestive, silky, so flirty, and it wakes up every nerve in my body.
I turn around to face him, coffee mug in hand. “Is that so?” I say, looking up at him.
His lips lift the tiniest bit. “You look good, Bec. Really good.”
My eyes drop to his chest. “You aren’t so bad yourself.” I take a sip of my coffee. “But your form looked a little off this morning. You should tuck your elbows into your sides when you’re doing curls. It’ll help isolate the muscle.”
“You were spying on me?”
“I … happened to be passing by.”
“Passing by a room at the end of a hallway? On your way to where?”
He’s got me there, so I only grin. “I’m going out to the pool,” I say. I reach for my bagel, then carry my breakfast out the back door, feeling his gaze on me the entire time.
Here’s hoping Mia’s swimsuit bottoms really are as magical as she claims.