Chapter 32 Lexie
After Theo gave me the most mind-blowing sex of my life this morning, he fell asleep like he’d been chasing it his whole life.
For the first twenty minutes, I lay there, as still as I could, but trembles ransacked me.
After destroying my body in the best way possible, I was sticky, sore, and sweaty.
I convinced myself that if I moved, he’d wake up, apologize, and leave.
But he didn’t. He lay there, cocooning me against his chest like he was scared I’d escape.
Then I fell asleep, too, into one of those daytime naps where your entire body sinks into the mattress and you completely lose track of time.
A few minutes ago, when the late afternoon sun woke me to a naked Theo intertwined with my body, it took several long moments for my disorientation to dissipate.
The air smells like sex and sweat, and I inhale, filling my lungs. I cannot believe that happened. I have so many questions. Him and Annabelle. My job. The wedding.
And what the fuck happens next?
Theo’s body stirs and I hold my breath. What if he wakes up and says this shouldn’t have happened? What if he slips out of here with a half-assed apology and look of regret? I slowly exhale, trying to elongate this moment as much as possible, when his lips meet the top of my head.
“Good morning, beautiful,” he says in a groggy, tone.
I lift my head to his warm eyes, relaxed face, and soft smile. “I hate to inform you that it’s actually late afternoon, and we’re going to have the worst case of self-induced jet-lag tomorrow.”
He slides his index and middle finger under my chin to tip up my head and places a gentle kiss on my mouth. “Totally worth it.”
This is exactly what I need to hear.
He lifts himself, bunches the sheets to his waist, and grabs my hand. “Come on.”
“Um… where are we going?”
“Shower. Then hydrate. Then take-out. And then we’re fucking doing that again.”
My smile grows. I follow him into my tiny shower.
He guides me to stay under the heated stream and only dips himself under the water to quickly wash himself.
Soft moans escape as he lathers soap in a warm rag and cleans himself off me with languid gentle strokes across my boneless body.
My scalp tingles as his magical fingers massage shampoo through my hair, as his lips meet mine.
No one has ever done this to me before. I thought aftercare was a myth, or part of a BDSM lifestyle. I had no idea it’d be so heavenly.
He steps out of the shower first, wraps a towel around his waist, then holds out his hand to help me out.
As if I haven’t gotten out of the shower by myself since I was a kid.
He holds out the towel, wraps me up, then holds me, tight.
My cheek presses against his warm chest and I sigh into his skin.
“Are you good?” he asks, still not letting me go. Maybe he was worried, too, that when he woke up the spell would be broken. “Are… we good?”
This is the most confident man I’ve ever met in my life. And the flicker of vulnerability in his voice nearly brings me to my knees. “We are so good.”
He kisses my head again, then steps back. “I’m starving. Let’s get some food.”
An hour later, after Theo made me come on the couch with his fingers, a delivery driver drops off enough sushi to feed my entire complex.
“So,” I say, tucking my legs under me on the couch, and dipping a sashimi in soy sauce. “You owe me an explanation.”
He swallows his tuna roll and reaches for a napkin. “Where do you want to start?”
“You got a fucking apartment next to me?”
The most sheepish grin crosses his face, and he reaches for another roll. “Yes.” He takes a swig of water, and holds it out for me. This man is obsessed with hydration. “What’s the next question?”
I groan at his deflection but decide it’s the lesser of two evils to let this one go. Theo does a lot of things that I’ll probably never understand.
This one, maybe, I don’t need to.
“I want to know everything that happened with Annabelle.” I reach for another sashimi. “Yesterday, you were marrying her. Today, you aren’t. What changed?”
He exhales. “You want the long version or the short version?”
I arch a brow.
“Fine. Shit. Where do I even start?” He dunks another roll in soy sauce, and chews. “Anna and I have been friends forever. I love her.”
Heat fills my face, and he reaches over and gives my leg a comforting squeeze.
“But I don’t love her the way you think. She’s my best friend. Has been since we were little. And we tried dating, off and on. She’s comfortable. We’re comfortable. But, it never felt right.” He takes a breath. “We haven’t slept together for years. Not since college, actually.”
“What?” The chopstick nearly slides from my fingers. They haven’t had sex for nearly a decade? Why? I have so many invasive questions burning on the tip of my tongue and it takes everything in me to not pepper him with them all.
“Yeah,” he says. “And when we did back then, it was always just sort of a… I don’t know… a release, I guess?”
“Wow… Okay.” I’m lost for words.
“Growing up, we used to take bets on which family was more fucked. Mine or her controlling family, with their archaic ideas on marriage and deep-set paranoia about anyone they deemed an ‘outsider’.”
As he polishes off the food, he talks about the few times that Annabelle dated—her family ran multiple background checks, hired private investigators to tail the men, and had their security intimidate the men until they were scared off.
“I don’t think she had a boyfriend that lasted longer than a month. ”
Wow.
“So, about ten years ago, maybe more, her parents started pressuring us to get married. I was vetted. My family was vetted. Anna and I honestly thought it was a joke at first, so I brushed it off. But the pressure intensified, and eventually my parents joined in too.” He takes a sip of his drink before telling me about the forced holidays, joint vacations, and constant badgering.
“I told my parents to fuck off, but I couldn’t stand watching the stress Anna’s parents were putting her under.
It killed me. The more she pushed back, the harder they came down on her.
And then last year, they gave her an ultimatum: marry me by the time she turned thirty, or she’d lose her trust fund. ”
Holy shit. My stomach knots. “Her birthday is July fifteenth, isn’t it? The uncompromising wedding date.”
“Sure is,” he says. “We pushed the wedding out to the very last day in case they’d change their mind.”
Jesus Christ. I can’t even imagine having that much pressure. “So now what? The wedding’s just off? What about her trust fund?”
“Anna and I have been talking for months, trying to figure out a way out of this. We thought we’d eventually find a loophole or get an annulment after a year, something.
But the more impossible it started to feel, the more we resigned ourselves to eventually living separate lives as a married-in-name-only couple and we’d each hopefully meet someone who understood the situation. ”
God, this is a lot to take in. “Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?”
“I couldn’t. If her parents had any idea that we were planning a way out of this wedding, they would’ve stripped her trust fund immediately,” he says, then fans his fingers on my knee. “I’m sorry. I just… I didn’t know if I could trust you.”
Even though it stings, I understand. “No, I get it. I was still a stranger to you, so it makes sense you didn’t trust me.”
He avoids my eyes at my words. Maybe I’m pushing for too much—but I need the truth. My conscience will not rest until I know, without a doubt, that Annabelle is happy.
“And she’s okay with… this…” I point between me and Theo.
A diabolic grin spreads and his hands slide up my thigh. “Elaborate on this.”
“Theo.” I glare, ignoring how my body immediately heats, and remove his hands. “I’m serious.”
“Not only is she okay, she’s thrilled. Who do you think I’ve been talking to about you?
When I told her I was going to come over and tell you everything, I think her exact words were ‘Thank God, now you can shut the fuck up about her.’ ” He laughs.
“She said it in a loving way, of course. Once she filled me in on her plan to get us out of the wedding, she told me to come over here immediately.”
“She did?”
He nods and glances at his hands. “And she said something about being vulnerable for once.”
“Whoa.” My heart skips a beat. “Do you know what that word means?”
“Nope.”
Everything in me wants to climb in his lap and show him just how much I appreciate him opening up, but I’m also desperate for more details. “So now what? How will she both get her trust fund and cancel the wedding?”
“For now, we have to play it cool,” he says, regret edging his voice.
“She’s still working out the details. Her Nonna is a feisty fuck and apparently they’ve come up with a plan.
But Anna’s paranoid and didn’t want to share too much over the phone, which I respect.
I wouldn’t put anything past her parents. ”
My brain tries to process all the information. “What does ‘playing it cool’ mean?”
“It means, to the outside world, we’re still getting married.”
My heart sinks.
“Not for very long.” He grabs my hand and kisses my wrist. “Just a few more weeks while she’s working everything out.
But Lexie, you can’t tell anyone. No one.
Not your boss, not Justin, not your mom, no one.
I am totally trusting you with this, okay?
This is not about me, or my life. It’s about Anna’s life and safety. ”
He’s right, of course. And I get it. Still, the thought of keeping this from the people who matter most to me—especially my boss, whose company is planning their special day—makes my stomach tighten. “Of course, I won’t say anything,” I say, taking a breath. “So, we keep planning the wedding?”
“Yes. I’m still working with your firm, we’ll still take the usual meetings, and—”
“Ah. Wait.” A smile grows, pushing back the nagging feeling of keeping this hidden. “Does this mean you still have to learn how to dance?”
He laughs and pulls me into his lap. I giggle at the sudden movement and moan at the way his hands slide up my body.
“Fucking dance lessons…”