33. CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE #2
I make it halfway through the first line before the mattress dips behind me.
My head tips forward, lips twitching up.
Theo settles in behind me, and apparently getting dressed hasn’t made him any less of a problem. His legs slide around either side of my hips, thighs pressing against mine as he slots himself against my back.
I go completely still, not because I want him to move, but because I want the exact opposite.
His chest moulds to my back, warm through my shirt, and then his chin hooks over my shoulder.
“You know,” he hums, his breath brushing my cheek, sending a shiver down my spine.
“I think I prefer you like this.”
I frown at the page. “Like what?”
“Wearing my clothes.”
I shove my shoulder back into him, warmth curling in my stomach.
Theo laughs.
“You’re such a dick,” I huff, but I have to bite the inside of my lip to stop myself from smiling.
This is ridiculous.
I came up here for a pen last night.
Now I’m sitting in Theo’s bed wearing his clothes while he wraps himself around me like we’re something I still don’t know how to name.
I force my attention down to the page, Theo shifting behind me, his hand snaking around my side.
“Theo.”
He ignores me, his fingers grabbing the edge of the textbook and snapping it shut.
“Seriously?”
“Yeah?” he breathes.
His mouth brushes the side of my neck.
His lips move slowly over my skin, barely even kissing me, just enough contact to make my breath stall. My shoulders tense as I fight the instinct to tip my head and give him more room.
For one second, I almost do.
Then everything I’ve been avoiding since I woke up comes rushing back in.
The warmth in my chest twists.
I swallow and pull forward, putting a sliver of space between us.
“Theo.”
It comes out differently this time.
Softer.
He hears it, the change in him is so fast it makes my stomach sink.
He freezes behind me, his mouth leaving my neck. His hand disappears from my side. Even the easy weight of his body against mine pulls away.
He exhales slowly.
“I know that tone.”
His voice is colder now, a wall going straight back up.
I close my eyes, Theo leaning away from me.
He braces himself on one hand, and the loss of his warmth is immediate enough that I almost reach back for him.
This is exactly why we need to talk.
I turn around to face him, tucking one leg beneath me, Theo already watching me.
The lazy amusement is gone now. His mouth has flattened, and I can practically see him preparing himself for whatever he thinks I’m about to say.
“We should probably talk.”
Even to me, it sounds ominous.
Theo gives a dry laugh, my stomach dropping further.
“Let me guess.” He drags a hand through his already wrecked hair and settles back against the headboard. “This is the part where you remind me you’re not gay.”
I stare at him as he does the same thing he does every time we get too close to something real.
Make it a joke.
Make himself the asshole before I get the chance to hurt him.
Except now I know what it looks like when I actually do.
“Don’t do that,” I snap.
Theo’s brows lift.
“Don’t act like an asshole because you’re scared.”
The second it leaves my mouth, I want it back.
Theo’s eyes snap to mine, all the warmth disappearing from them.
“I’m not scared,” he grits out.
His jaw locks hard enough that I see the muscle jump beneath his skin.
I open my mouth, but he gets there first.
“I’m tired.”
That shuts me up.
Because there’s no bite behind it, he just sounds fucking exhausted.
I push myself off the bed because sitting still feels impossible, restless energy crawling beneath my skin with nowhere to go. My hand catches in my hair as I pace a few steps toward the desk before turning back to him, frustration already wound too tight in my chest.
“Then what the fuck am I even doing here, Theo?” I demand.
He shrugs, like none of this is getting to him, but I know him well enough by now to see the tension sitting across his shoulders. “You’re the one that invited yourself into my room.”
Something in me snaps.
Maybe it’s the way he says it, like I’m the only one who keeps doing this. Like he hasn’t pulled me back every single time I’ve tried to leave. Like I imagined him asking me to stay last night.
“Yeah, well, you didn’t seem to mind when you were begging for my dick.”
The second the words leave my mouth, I know I’ve fucked up.
Theo recoils.
It’s barely a movement, just the slightest pull backwards, but I see it. I see the exact second it lands, the way his expression empties, and regret twists through my stomach so hard I feel sick.
“Shit.” I scrub a hand down my face, already shaking my head. “I didn’t mean that.”
Theo looks at me for a second, the silence worse than if he’d just told me to fuck off.
Then he pushes himself slowly off the bed.
There’s nothing rushed about the way he moves. He closes the distance between us until he’s standing directly in front of me, close enough that I can see the hurt still sitting behind his eyes even as something colder starts sliding over it.
“Didn’t you?” he asks quietly.
My stomach drops.
“Theo—”
“Because I think that’s the most honest thing you’ve said to me since we met.”
He crosses his arms over his chest, fingers curling into his biceps, and lets out a scoff that doesn’t come close to covering what I just did.
“That’s not what I fucking meant.”
I reach for him, needing to fix it somehow, but Theo flinches back before my fingers can touch him.
My hand stops between us.