Chapter 6 #3
What was I thinking? I didn’t know whether to leave or die of shame.
I hadn’t been thinking, that was the problem. I’d been running on curiosity and nerves, aching to be seen by the one person who never seemed to let himself look.
Now I couldn’t tell whether I’d just made a fool of myself or set something alight.
I climbed into the shower and went through the motions of washing, functioning on autopilot.
I couldn’t push Theo’s startled gaze from my memory.
By the time I’d finished, the mirror fogged by steam, the spike of adrenaline that had lanced through me was gone, leaving my face and neck flushed, my eyes bright.
You should be ashamed of yourself.
Except I wasn’t. What gnawed at me was the uncertainty.
For the first time since moving in, Theo had looked at me without that careful neutrality he always wore. And for one impossible heartbeat, I could have sworn there’d been more than surprise or confusion there.
Something wary.
Did I imagine seeing want in those blue eyes? Or is that simply wishful thinking?
I rinsed my face with cold water, trying to steady my breathing.
It had been reckless, I knew that. But I also knew I’d witnessed the tiniest crack in Theo’s composure, and the truth was, it hadn’t scared me.
It had thrilled me.
Can’t stay in here forever.
No noise filtered through from the living room. I pulled on the clothes I’d left hanging by the wash basin and opened the door.
The flat was still. Only the faint hum of the fridge and Theo’s laptop filled the air. Then the freezer mooed, and the spell was broken.
I stepped into the kitchen, watching the back of Theo’s head. He hadn’t moved much. His shoulders were straight, his gaze fixed on the screen, but there was a tension that hadn’t been there before.
I cleared my throat. “Sorry. I’m used to walking around the place naked. I forgot I was sharing space with the easily startled.” The first part was true.
The second left a sour taste in my mouth.
Theo turned enough to look over his shoulder. “Startled isn’t the word.”
I tried a crooked smile. “Annoyed?”
“No.” Theo hesitated, then faced forward again. “Just… unprepared.”
The quietly spoken words had weight.
I stepped closer, stopping a few feet away from Theo’s chair. “I didn’t mean to make things weird.”
Theo stilled his fingers over the keyboard. “Let’s face it, they were already complicated.”
The honesty in his words caught me off guard. I wanted to ask what that meant, but one look on Theo’s face, his mask of calm barely restored, warned me not to push.
I backed toward the sofa. “I’ll stay out of your way.”
Theo didn’t answer. But as I sat, I felt the tension in the room like a low current under the silence.
He’s not angry, or even comfortable.
Then it hit me.
He’s aware of me in a way he wasn’t before.
I opened my sketchbook, pretending to draw. My hand shook too much for the lines to make sense, but it gave me something to stare at that wasn’t Theo.
I thought about the way Theo had looked at me, that momentary flash of wanting before he quickly buried it. Despite the guilt prickling me, I couldn’t regret it.
Because now I know.
There was something there, even if Theo would rather break than name it.
The rest of the morning passed in the same careful quiet. Two people pretending to be busy—well, I was pretending, anyway—while the silence between us said everything we weren’t brave enough to say.
“I’m heading out,” Theo said at last. He closed down the laptop and shoved it into a bag.
I swallowed. “You’re not working from home today?”
Theo shook his head. “I’ll go to a café where I work sometimes. Then we’ve got a rehearsal tonight. I’m not sure when I’ll be home. There’s food in the fridge, and if you need anything, there’s a little shop around the corner that sells everything.” His lips twitched again. “For a price.”
“Look, if you’re leaving because of me, you don’t have to worry,” I blurted. “I’ll stay out of your hair.”
Theo stood. “You don’t have to.”
“I’m pretty sure I do.” I kept my tone light.
Theo swallowed. “Just make yourself at home.”
Home.
The word hung in the air between us, too heavy for something so casual.
I swallowed again, nodded once, and managed another crooked smile. “Thanks, Theo. For… everything.”
Theo’s expression softened, but only a fraction. “You’re welcome.” He paused. “You’re going to need this.” He opened a drawer, rummaged in it, and finally laid a key ring on the counter. “The big silver key opens the door downstairs. The one with the red sticker opens the deadlock on my door.”
“Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it.” Theo grabbed his jacket and headed for the door.
Just before he left, he glanced back. For a second, barely long enough to count, his eyes met mine, his expression unguarded. Something unspoken passed between us, and it felt raw and dangerous and somehow familiar.
Then the door closed behind him, leaving the air charged and the flat too quiet.
I stood there for a long time, my mug still warm in my hands, trying to breathe around the ache in my chest.
Something is going on here.