Chapter 9 Theo
Theo
The smell of coffee hits my nose, urging me into a more-awake state as I pour it into my mug. It’s one of my main habits in the morning—roll out of bed, straight to the coffee machine. My head is throbbing from our night out.
I didn’t drink that much, but I think the combination of the little alcohol I did have plus the tailspin dancing with Whitney threw me into was too much for one night.
My hands flex, and I can still feel how she fits into my grip perfectly.
Dancing with her was like something right out of a dream. With her in my arms, I never wanted the night to end. Something about holding her so close to me felt so right. As if the two of us were exactly where we were meant to be.
The disappointment still stings a bit from when the moment ended.
If I could have frozen time right there, I think I would’ve.
But as all good things tend to do, the special moment came to an end, and she left me standing on a wet curbside, watching her peek out at me from the rear windshield of the car.
Even after I came home last night, all I could think about was her and how her body moved against mine.
I was a man addicted, and she was my vice.
I wasn’t sure what I was going to do about this, but I figured at some point, something had to give.
“What are you brooding about?” My brother’s voice calls me out of my thoughts of my stunning assistant.
With a shake of my head, I say, “Nothing.”
“Sure didn’t look like nothing.”
I laugh under my breath. “Nope, I’m sure it didn’t.”
My brother leans his elbows on the breakfast bar, leaning forward like he’s stretching his lower back out. He and Leila had been locked in my guest bedroom last night when I got back, and they hadn’t emerged for the rest of the evening.
I take another sip of coffee. “You and Leila?”
Chase narrows his eyes at me. “Like you’re one to talk. I was pretty sure you were going to rip Whitney’s dress off of her right there in the middle of the dance floor before we interrupted you two.”
I grimace. “I most certainly was not going to do that.”
“Whatever, man, I’m just saying. At least I closed on the deal.”
“I’m guessing you had a good night.”
“Good? Try the greatest night of my life ever. I think Leila and I were meant to be.”
The sound of the bedroom door clicking open has Chase standing up straight and looking around the kitchen frantically. He picks up a dirty washcloth and throws it into the sink after wiping off some crumbs from the counter. I smirk at my brother in amusement.
“Whatever that face is, cut it out,” he grumbles, still skittering around the kitchen, trying to tidy the already tidy space. “Just play it cool, man.”
“Sure,” I respond as his bedmate from last night—and Whitney’s best friend—rounds the corner.
She only hesitates a moment when she sees the two of us standing there. “Good morning.”
Chase and I mumble the greeting back to her. She slides into the barstool next to where Chase was standing just a moment ago and gives me a shy smile. This version of her is entirely different than the one that seduced my brother just last night.
“Coffee?” I ask her, trying to fill the room’s newly acquired silence.
She wrinkles her nose. “No, thank you. I’ll take a cup of hot water with a lemon if you have it.”
I stare at her blankly, wondering if she’s joking.
“You heard the lady,” Chase snaps at me. I glare at him but go for an extra coffee mug, filling it up with water from the tap before popping it into the microwave.
“I don’t have lemons.”
Leila gives me a tight smile. “That’s okay.”
When it’s finished, I hand her the cup of hot water, and she takes it appreciatively, wrapping her hands around the warm, ceramic mug and breathing in the steam emanating from the contents.
“Need anything to eat?” I ask her, trying to be as hospitable as possible, even though she’s not my guest.
My brother is staying with me for the time being, until he can rent a place of his own.
I have the space in my penthouse, so it’s not a big deal.
Thankfully, once the deal with Peterson had been confirmed, I went ahead and got the apartment.
It had been sitting pretty much empty until it was time for me to move here.
I’m only a five-minute drive from the office, which is convenient for those early mornings and late evenings.
“Do you have any cereal?” Leila asks, and I pause again. I was thinking along the lines of bacon or eggs.
“I do—it’s just Cheerios, though,” I tell her.
“That’s perfect.”
Chase is giving me a look like he’s warning me not to make a big deal of his lady’s little quirks, and I do my best. I grab a bowl and then collect the milk from the fridge and the cereal from the pantry.
I leave it to Leila to serve herself. She pours herself a heaping bowl of Cheerios and then douses the cereal in milk.
“What?” I ask when she gives me another strange look.
Her eyebrow twitches, and it appears as though she’s fighting off a smile. “Got a spoon?”
“I got it,” Chase interjects as he pulls open my utensil drawer, and then hands Leila one.
She beams at him and then digs into her cereal. She says between bites, “I had such a fun time last night. We’ll definitely have to go back to that club sometime.”
“Agreed,” Chase says, giving her a wicked smile.
“Did you have a good time, Theo?” Leila asks. Somehow, I suspect she’s trying to ask me something completely different.
I lean my hip against the counter and nod slowly. “I did.”
“Yeah, it looked like you did,” Leila says with a smile. “You and Whitney both.”
I clear my throat, but don’t respond. Leila goes back to her cereal, eyeing me suspiciously while she eats. When she’s finished, Chase swoops in and collects her dishes before rinsing them out in the sink.
I want to roll my eyes, but I don’t. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen my brother act so gentlemanly before toward a woman he brought home.
“I’m going to go hop in the shower, babe,” Chase says to Leila before leaning down and kissing her on the cheek. She beams at the gesture, looking up at Chase like he is the star that lights up her sky.
Leila reads his hidden request and nods her head. “Give me just a minute.”
Chase’s lips pull into a smirk before he saunters out of the kitchen and down the hallway to the bathroom. Once he’s entirely out of earshot, Leila turns to me.
“So, you like Whitney, huh?”
I nearly spit out my coffee and look over to the woman sitting at my bar. She’s blowing gently on her steaming cup of water, looking awfully pleased with herself.
“Don’t give me that look. I’m letting you know I approve, but don’t hurt her. She might come off as uptight and have some ridiculous expectations, but she’s really vulnerable on the inside. Just take care of her.”
Ridiculous expectations? I had no idea what the hell that meant.
Whitney had never given me any indication that she had expectations of any sort.
Thankfully. I’m not sure what I’d do if I found myself in another relationship where I never felt like I was up to par.
Going through one of those already was one too many for my tastes.
I nod my head. “Noted.”
“Thanks, Theo. This was a great talk. Hopefully, I’ll see you around.
” She gives me a wide smile before sliding out of the barstool and floating down the hallway with a mug of hot water.
I try to ignore the fact that I hear the bathroom door opening and my brother's appreciative groan when she clearly joins him in the shower.
I’m left standing there, coffee mug in hand, wondering if Leila just unexpectedly gave me her blessing.
Having her permission or not, there’s still the inner turmoil of whether or not I can or should pursue Whitney further.
I want to scream yes and convince Whitney that there is no other man she should be with besides me, but still, my reason knows that wouldn’t be the best course of action at this time.
So, with a resigned sigh, I shuffle into my living room and reach for my briefcase next to the couch.
I pull out my laptop and power it on, clicking on my email icon.
I mouse over to the new option and pause when a blank email draft pops onto the screen.
My fingers hover over my keyboard, and I hesitate, running over all potential outcomes.
Of course, I could just text her this, but perhaps creating this professional boundary right from the get-go would be the best decision.
Finally, I shake my head and begin typing.
To: Whitney Palmer
From: Theodore Hurst
Subject: Monday
Ms. Palmer,
We should discuss our conversation from yesterday. I’m not satisfied with how we left it. Unfortunately, I believe we may need to go in a different direction than what was initially implied.
Let's schedule a time to meet and go over the details of this matter sometime Monday.
Sincerely,
Theo Hurst.
I send it before I can change my mind. My eyes fly over the completed—and sent—email.
Obviously, email inboxes are monitored by IT, and while I may be the CEO, it doesn’t hurt to be as discreet as possible.
In my opinion, the email comes across as an email from a boss to his assistant about any old matter. Nothing more, nothing less.
I fall back into the cushions of my sofa and stare blankly at my screen.
This will work. Whitney and I will have a chance to sit down and talk about this.
We’ll have a heart to heart, lay it all out on the table, and then hopefully nip whatever this is in the bud before it has the chance to bloom into anything further.
We both have an attraction for each other, so what? We’re both adults, I imagine we will be capable of putting feelings aside during work hours.
But what about after work hours? My traitorous thoughts feel the need to make themselves known.
It’s not an option, I think back to myself, then shake my head. This woman really has me so twisted up that I’m having conversations with myself.
When I don’t get an emailed response right away, I distract myself. Again, I reach into my briefcase and pull out a stack of reports that I’m right in the middle of going through. Might as well distract myself from work with more work.
I grab a highlighter and pull off the cap with my teeth. From down the hallway, I hear my brother and Leila laugh together. Gritting my teeth, I try my hardest to block it out.
The last thing I need right now is to hear my brother head-over-heels for a woman. My chest aches as I think about Whitney. I make the resolve then and there that we will end whatever this is on Monday.
Even still, there’s a twinge of regret for not seeing the potential of what we could be together. But I know this is the right thing to do.
No matter how badly my heart tells me I’m wrong.