Chapter 44 #2
“The girl was an evil genius,” Guppy agrees. “Mad respect.”
Theo leans in. “I heard something about Ginny arranging a rave in the band room?”
“Ahhh!” This time, Keri does spit out her drink. “How do I forget this stuff?”
“Wait a second.” Ripper narrows his eyes at me. “Didn’t Ginny get busted her freshman year of college for running an underground party in her dorm?”
“Yeah, it was Classic Ginny. She’d get busted for something and just turn around and do it bigger.”
This might be the happiest I’ve been in a long time.
No one ever wants to talk about Ginny like this, casual and funny.
Normally people either dance around the topic or they want to talk about her like she’s a tragic memory.
It feels so much truer to my sister to remember the pranks, the scrapes we got out of, the fun we had.
I look across the fire. Theo’s laughing so hard at Guppy’s rave story his cheeks must hurt.
Laughing like he knows Ginny—and for a moment, I feel like he does, like they overlapped in time, even though I know it’s not true.
When I smile at him, it feels like pure light pouring out of my skin.
His laugh fades as he looks at me, his hazel eyes moving slowly over my face.
For once, I don’t pull my gaze.
Theo exhales so deeply I can almost feel it in my own chest. A resigned look settles over him that I wish I could make sense of.
I glance around the fire, searching for Ginny to ask, but she’s not there.
I whip my head around. She isn’t walking down the beach. There’s only waves and stars.
I haven’t paid enough attention to her, and she’s disappeared.
“Hey, I’m not done hearing about the Cortland sisters in high school,” Theo says, and my attention snaps to him. “I need to know what teenage Ginny did to make a grown man have a mental break-down. I’m Hannah’s manager. I have a vested interest.”
“Oh my god,” Keri says, practically bouncing. “There was this one time Less Than Jake came to the Hideout, but the show was eighteen and up. You better believe Ginny had a plan.”
“Is that when she started printing those fake IDs?” Carlos asks. “Didn’t a couple of teachers end up buying from her?”
“Yeah, Mr. McDonald. Who turned out to be on the lam for wire fraud and took off for Mexico.” Guppy whoops, and everyone starts cracking up again.
“Alleged wire fraud,” Keri says. “Remember how Ginny would always say that?” Her voice takes on a falsetto that sounds nothing like Ginny, but it makes me smile anyway. “‘I had no idea I was aiding and abetting a criminal.’”
“Hey, turn that song up,” yells Cheese from the cooler. “This was one of Ginny’s favorites. Remember how she always made us play it on loop?”
Theo looks at me from across the fire like he somehow knew this was what I needed. The corner of his mouth tugs up in the faintest hint of a smile.
The light reenters my chest.
//
Two hours later, a keg’s been dragged to our spot on the beach and everyone’s gotten looser.
The music’s louder and people are dancing around the bonfire—okay, mostly Ripper and Keri.
Theo catches my eye when he stands and brushes sand from his pants.
“I better catch an Uber. I’ll pick up the van tomorrow. ”
Guppy’s holding Kenny’s feet while he does a keg stand. “Excellent. No drinking and driving at Casa Gup.”
“You’re leaving?” I ask. “But it’s only midnight.”
Theo shrugs; his eyes are on the sand. “It’s for the best.” They flick up to mine for a moment. “Bye, Hannah. Talk to you tomorrow.”
He turns and makes his way up the sand, and I try to return to the conversation I was having with Carlos. I keep glancing up at Guppy’s house. Five tortured minutes pass. There’s a feeling in my stomach, a pit of anxiety, an instinct to do something.
Maybe Theo hasn’t gotten into his Uber yet.
I smile at Carlos. “Give me a second. I’m going to grab a beer.”
I snag one from the cooler, then stare up at the house.
Making a spur-of-the-moment decision, I head up the dune.
My feet sink into the sand with each step—it’s cooler up here, night-kissed, and the sand slides over my feet like silk.
I concentrate on the feel of each footstep, rather than where they’re taking me.
Guppy’s house is empty when I enter through the sliding glass door.
It’s decorated the way I would expect from the Guppy I remember, before he turned into a CBD mogul: surfboards hang on the wall, alongside some rough-hewn textiles he probably picked up in Mexico and a painting of a beach I’m sure he bought from an artist on the beach itself.
I wander around the living room and kitchen, but Theo isn’t here. I’m too late.
I set my beer down on the tiled kitchen counter and stare out at the waves. I don’t know where my head is at these days.
A sudden jostle at the knob, and then the front door opens.
Theo walks in. He’s pulled on a navy sweater now that we’re away from the heat of the bonfire.
Underneath it, peeking out from the collar, is a glint of a silver chain I’ve never noticed.
He stops short at the sight of me, then shuts the door behind him with a quiet click.
“You haven’t left,” I say, digging my nail into the label on my beer. I’m worried he can see through me.
“My driver canceled. Had to call another one.” He walks into the kitchen but maintains a distance, leaning on the other side of the counter. He slides his hands into his pockets and looks down at the floor.
“You sure you want to head out? Kenny’s promising another drum circle. I know how much you love those.”
He smiles, but it’s a weak one. “I’ve got a busy week coming up. We’ve got to rebound from the . . . ” He trails off, scratching the back of his neck, tugging the necklace. “Anyway, I should probably get some rest.”
“So you’re not . . . ”
He looks up.
“Avoiding me?”
He shoves his hands even deeper into his pockets and chuckles nervously. “Why would I be avoiding you?” His gaze drops to his feet, as if he’s reluctant to meet my eyes.
“You usually stay until the end of parties to make sure we get home okay. Remember Gunthy’s house?” It’s bold of me, bringing up San Francisco, when I can still feel his thumb brushing my lip when I close my eyes. “You stayed past dawn.”
“Well, maybe I’m trying not to be such a micromanager these days.”
Leaving my beer on the counter, I edge closer to him. “Or maybe we should get you some more Molly.”
He laughs, but it’s forced. “Yeah. Right.”
I take another step. I might as well be feeling my way through a pitch-black room, as much as I know what’s going to happen next.
It’s just that something keeps drawing me toward him, in San Francisco, in Las Vegas, in New York.
It’s like no matter where we are, my internal compass keeps spinning and landing on him, my instincts tugging me forward.
I can see in Theo’s eyes that he’s trying to get a read on me.
He swallows nervously, then smiles like maybe I’m teasing him by moving closer.
I rest my elbows on the counter and—before he can back away—skim my fingers under his collar, catching the thin silver chain and tugging it from his shirt.
At the end is a small medallion with a face engraved.
“It was my dad’s.” He watches me closely. “I used to wear it a lot when I was younger. It’s St. Anthony. The patron saint of the lost.”
“Huh. Your dad had a sense of irony.” I don’t let go of the chain. Instead, I slide it through my fingers, feeling the smooth looped metal. “I guess everyone feels lost from time to time.”
There’s a long moment of silence, and then he says, “You’re not lost, Hannah.”
He has no idea. I lay the necklace gently against his collarbone. “Your ex-girlfriend. The pretty one we met at the Jimmy Kimmel show.”
“Liv.”
“Do you still have feelings for her?”
We’re standing close, both of us leaning against the countertop. I’m trying to pretend we’re having a casual conversation, but my heart is pounding and my mouth is dry.
He shakes his head. “Not since college.”
“What was College Theo like?”
“Pretty much the same as High School Theo.” He smiles, but it’s cautious, quick and gone. “Nothing like you and your friends.”
“No?” I want him to keep talking so I can watch his mouth form the words. I know deep down that he’s a man I can’t touch. So I’ll just get drunk on looking.
“No. I would’ve been intimidated by you in high school.”
“Me?”
“High School Theo wouldn’t have known what to do with you.” He laughs a little. Leans his weight against the bar. “He probably would’ve had a hopeless crush, though. The poor guy.”
My throat goes dry. I want him to look at me, but he avoids my eyes. “What about grown-up Theo?”
Theo nods to himself, almost like he expected the question. His eyes are still on the bar, watching his fingers as he presses them against the tile. “He’s different.”
“Right.” Even as my heart drops, I can’t stop looking at him. It’s useless. Here in this kitchen, by the bonfire, from the side of a stage. He would say he’s the one always watching me, but I know the truth. It’s the other way around.
I tap my thumb against my leg to ground myself, borrowing a rhythm from one of our songs.
Theo’s jaw tightens. For a second, that resigned expression is back. Then he takes a deep breath. And lifts his eyes. He keeps his chin up, letting me see him fully. Then he says, quietly, “Grown-up Theo never stood a chance.”
The air between us shifts.
I step forward, ignoring every reason not to, and kiss him.
The kiss is soft, tentative at first. But it’s shocking how quickly I realize this is what I’ve been stumbling toward.
This is the instinct I was chasing. I run my hands up the back of Theo’s neck and sink my fingers into his long hair, using it to pull him closer.
If I’m being honest, I’ve wanted to touch him this way since the moment I saw him, corporate suit be damned. What a hypocrite I am.
He groans quietly into my mouth and presses against me, deepening the kiss.
I follow the cant of his head, meeting the force of his desire with my own.
Kissing him doesn’t satisfy me—if anything, it only makes the aching stronger.
I’m filled with an urge to possess him, have him in a way that can’t be taken away.
Theo pulls back to catch his breath and stares at me.
I’m good at controlling my breath when I sing, but now I’m just like him, trying to drag in air with deep inhales.
His hands drop from my jaw to my waist, and he lifts me, placing me up on the counter, the tiles cold against my skin through my jeans.
I wrap my legs around his waist and pull him in until we’re pressed as close as we can.
He leans his forehead against mine and laughs, short and hushed. “What are we doing?” he whispers.
“I don’t know,” I admit, kissing his full bottom lip, the corners of his mouth, until he tightens his grip on my jaw and kisses me again.
Harder, more demanding now. The restraint I’ve been clutching at finally breaks loose, and I step into wildness, kissing him as deeply as I can, touching as much of him as I can, his face and hair and arms, his hard biceps, the veins vining up his forearms, flexed to hold me in place.
Kissing Theo feels like being onstage in San Francisco or Vegas, one of those nights when you’re putting your heart into the music and the audience is giving it back, and you get a glimpse of something bigger, something on the verge of overwhelming, transcendence here on earth.
I had no idea I could get that feeling from a person.
He fists his hands in my hair and takes a deep breath, then whispers something to himself that sounds faintly like “Fuck the rules.”
I open my mouth to ask what he means, but he kisses me harder, so hungrily I fall over on the bar. Theo’s lips move down my neck as he pulls open the collar of my shirt and presses his hot mouth to my collarbone. I close my eyes.
It’s not until the sliding glass door closes with a crack that I register another presence. My eyes fly open and I freeze, hands still cupping Theo’s face.
Guppy stands at the door, taking a swig of beer. “Taking my counter’s virginity?”
Theo steps away and I slide off the counter, stomach plummeting. Normally I wouldn’t care, but this is Theo, and kissing him feels different, feels private. “I’m sorry, Gup.”
He waves and grins. “Carry on.” He heads down the hall. “Hannah Cortland, back in Bonita Vista.” His footsteps echo behind him.
Theo and I look at each other. He pulls a hand through his hair, trying to smooth it from where I’ve turned it wild. “I guess we’re lucky that wasn’t Kenny or Ripper.”
“Very lucky.” I touch my swollen lips. They sting from the force of our kissing. I press my hands over my face. “Fuck.”
Theo pulls his phone out of his pocket and gives a startled laugh. “My Uber driver is here and pissed. I better go, okay?”
“Okay.”
Disappointment twists through me as I watch him walk away. What was I thinking? Theo’s not just dangerous because he’s one of the only people in the world who is actually off-limits. There are bigger reasons. Reasons that have to do with how hard my heart is beating.
But before I can swallow down my feelings and step away from the counter, suddenly Theo is back. “I’m sorry. Can’t help it.” He cups my jaw and pulls me into a kiss. Three seconds that leave me breathless before he releases me and walks right out the front door.
I turn to the sliding glass door, tracing my lips. In the distance, the bonfire crackles in front of the waves. In the foreground, my face shines back at me. The woman in the glass can’t stop smiling.