Chapter 9
Theo
She gasps as soon as the power goes out.
It’s the kind of gasp that makes my heart jump.
I blink, trying to get my eyes to adjust to the darkness before I move.
I can hear Lola’s breathing, uneven and loud, as if she’s struggling to get air into her lungs.
So I stand and round the coffee table, hoping I blindly get the dimensions right.
I don’t, and clip my toe, biting back an expletive.
I reach for her, swallowing down the pain in my pinky toe. “Lola?”
“Is it going to come back on?” she croaks. Her usually confident voice, which carries a teasing lilt, is shaky and uneven, like her breathing. “Soon?”
“I don’t know. These storm blackouts are unpredictable.
” I blink a couple more times, hoping to see better.
I can see shapes now, including the shape of Lola, and she’s slipped off the couch and is on the floor, between the coffee table and the couch.
She seems to be curled into herself. Maybe holding her bent legs with her head on her knees?
It looks like that, but I can’t be sure. “Lola? You gonna be okay?”
“Yeah. No. Maybe,” she says in quick succession. “Sorry. I hate the dark. Especially when it’s unexpected.”
I reach for her, gently and slowly, but she still jumps a little as my hand touches her shoulder.
Then she puts a shaking hand on top of mine, so I don’t pull away, and I know immediately this is some kind of panic attack.
I pull her up. She moves willingly, but every part of her is trembling.
My heart lurches because I know this feeling, and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. “I’m gonna hold you, okay?”
“I’m fine,” she insists.
“Okay, well, you can be fine in my arms,” I reply and slowly, gently pull her the short distance into my chest. I wrap both arms around her back firmly but gently.
Her head turns so her left cheek is pressed against my right pec, and I slowly rub one of my palms up and down her back.
She feels good against me. She’s warm and tiny and tucks right in, just right.
I try not to dwell on that thought for fear it might move into the thoughts I was having earlier.
About how hot she is and how her snarky personality makes her even hotter.
And how long it’s been since I’ve had sex.
How I desperately need to fuck something other than my hand.
After about a minute, her arms circle my waist, and a minute after that, her breathing feels and sounds more even.
“You asked me why I was out in a snowstorm in a T-shirt. Well, the answer is I was trying to shock my nervous system. Sometimes everything inside me feels like it’s wound way too tight and I can’t breathe, and I can’t think.
And I want a drink to calm everything down.
The cold can do the same reset as a drink.
It’s way more aggressive, but it works.”
“You get panic attacks.”
“I get anxiety attacks, yeah,” I reply, still rubbing her back. “I usually take cold showers or cold plunges at the rink because we have ice baths in the therapy room, but I don’t know… the snow felt like another way to fix it.”
“Darkness makes me panic,” she tells me what I clearly already know. “I’ve used night lights since I was a kid. Even in my college dorm. I don’t know why, and it’s so fucking annoying.”
Her sweater is soft against my skin, but I stop rubbing because I kinda want to feel her hair now. It’s short, pulled into pigtails, but it’s also glossy and looks thick. So I palm the back of her head, and yeah, it’s like silk under my fingers. “It’s a phobia. They rarely make sense.”
“I’m okay… I am…” She takes a big breath. “This is so embarrassing.”
“Babe, I just told you I’m a sober sex virgin, which is way more embarrassing.”
She pulls out of my arms suddenly. “Please say you have a flashlight or candles or something?”
“There’s a candle in the bathroom. I didn’t buy it.
It was part of the decor or something, but we can burn it.
I’ll replace it.” I reach for her hand because I don’t think I should leave her alone.
She lets me take it, and I pull my phone out of my back pocket and hit the flashlight button, holding it out to light our way.
Her hand is small but strong. Lola is very petite, but somehow still seems like a powerhouse.
She’s not delicate. Even in her panicked state right now, there’s an underlying confidence radiating off her.
In the bathroom, I grab the candle from the shelf above the toilet and head back into the kitchen.
She doesn’t suggest letting go of me, and neither do I.
Not even when I have to rummage around in the junk drawer for the barbecue lighter.
The candle is one of those big ones with three wicks in a glass jar, so there’s a decent amount of light.
And I can see her face relax a little in the glow.
God knows how long this outage will last, but hopefully the candle gets us through.
“Your fireplace needs electricity?” she asks, noticing it also went out with the power.
“Yeah, it’s one of those fancy electric ones,” I say and try not to obsess over how fucking gorgeous she looks in candlelight. Her eyes seem like the palest shade of blue in the soft light, and they pop against how much darker her hair looks. She catches me staring.
“I’m sorry. I know I seem like a… well, you signed on for boring and all you’ve gotten tonight is bitchy and panicked, which sucks for you,” Lola mutters.
“Stop,” I say firmly, and her eyes shoot up to mine. “You’re perfect.”
“I’m a wreck,” she whispers.
“Get in line.” Our gazes meet again, and the air becomes charged. I suddenly don’t have to worry about the heat being out and this place dropping in temperature because I’m hot and a little bit bothered.
She licks her pretty lips. Okay, I’m a lot bothered. “I realize when I told you to, like, go have sober sex, it might have seemed like I was kind of implying… offering.”
“Don’t worry. I wouldn’t ask you to be my sexual guinea pig,” I reply, and she puts a hand on my chest, just left of the Riptide logo. “I’ll figure out how to have sober sex with someone at some point.”
“Go on the apps.” Her voice is breathy, and it’s like a caress to my long-neglected cock.
“The dating apps?” I shake my head. “Those are for dating, right? I don’t want to date.”
“There are hook-up only apps,” she counters.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” I let my fingers run over her right pigtail, pulling out the elastic as I go. I do the same to the other side and then bury my fingers in her silky hair, grazing her scalp. She shivers in that good way.
“God, that feels good,” she whispers— almost like she’s scared to admit it.
“Feels good for me too.” My voice is deeper than it’s been all night.
I dip my head a little so my lips are closer to hers.
Not close enough to kiss. She’s too short and still too far away, but that’s okay.
That’s on purpose. I won’t be the one who makes the first move.
She’s my teammates’ sister. My line mates’ sister.
She’s a whole lot of complicated… and I’m not even sure what I’m doing anymore.
Drunk Theo took his shots without a second thought.
Sober Theo is… well… an over-thinker, like she said earlier. I don’t trust my own judgment here.
“I need a distraction. From the power outage. Something simple. Something easy. Something…” She tilts her head, and I wait impatiently for her to finish that sentence. “Can I kiss you?”
I have never been asked for permission before. Ever. At least I don’t think I have. “It would be a crime if you didn’t.”
She wraps both hands around my neck, lifts onto her tiptoes, and then Lola is kissing me.
She isn’t shy about it at all. Her lips are soft but strong, and her tongue finds mine almost immediately.
This is fucking magic. I have done this sober, but it was a long time ago.
Teenage years. Basically, every kiss since I turned twenty has been during some version of drunk.
Right now, every single one of my senses is alert and aware.
She tastes like apple juice, and I dig my hands into her hair again to keep her close.
My height advantage makes this difficult, and she must know it, too.
Her neck tipped back so far it probably looks comical.
She uses her arms to circle my neck to lift herself and wrap her legs around my waist. I smile into the kiss, cup her ass, and take one step to set her on the counter across from the candle.
She doesn’t unwrap her legs, which I have no complaints about. I can’t get close enough to her.
Her hands move over my shoulders, and I break the kiss to taste more of her.
Kissing my way across her jaw to her ear and then down her long neck.
She finds the hem of my sweatshirt and sighs as she pushes her fingers underneath.
They’re cool, but my skin heats at the feel of her hands roaming over my sides and stomach and then upward. “Your body is insane.”
“Do I make you feral?” I ask jokingly, using the word she used earlier.
“Shut up and take this off.” She’s pushing the sweatshirt higher. I reach behind my head and pull it up and off. Her hands are back on my skin before it hits the floor.
It’s nice to be touched again. To feel every one of her fingers explore.
I’ve been so drunk during sex before that I was numb.
I can’t count the number of times I never came.
I mean, not that we’re having sex tonight.
We aren’t. But this… is turning me on and I’m gonna have to find release somehow, even if it’s alone later.
It should be alone later. It definitely can’t be together. Nope. Not together.