Which is a terrifying prospect, because I’ve broken before.
And no one has ever helped me pick up the pieces.
I expected more after he went down on me. But he picked up my pants and carefully bunched them up over my ankles like he was dressing a child. I watched him, deft hands, veined forearms—one that should probably still be in a sling—and a look of satisfied concentration on his face.
“Don’t you want me to . . .” I trail off, rolling my wrist to explain my train of thought and realizing I feel a little shy. A little lost for words. A little out of my element.
What he did? The things he said? They shouldn’t have felt so momentous, but they did. And it terrified me. He isn’t just some hot one-night stand anymore. He’s the father of our little girl. I’ll be connected to him for the rest of my life, whether or not I want to be.
Whether or not he wants me.
This could be everything. Or it could be the biggest disaster of my life.
So when he smirks, rakes his eyes over me as I fix my fucked-up ponytail, and says, “Nah. I’m good,” my mind goes crazy.
He grips my chin and presses a hard kiss to my mouth before turning away to finish closing the gym. I taste myself, but all I can focus on are those two words echoing in my head.
I’m good.
As in, it satisfied him too?
Or like Ew, no thanks?
He spent countless minutes divulging all the things he likes about me. It seems unlikely he wouldn’t want to do more. And yet, that’s where my brain is trained to go.
My dad chose someone else.
My husband chose someone else. He chose my sister.
And I don’t resent her for it. I resent myself, because what is it about me that is so profoundly unlovable? I feel like I’m on a constant mission to figure that one thing out. I’m not offended by it. I just need to know what it is so I can fix it.
“Ready?” Theo’s voice startles me. My head snaps up to him from where I sit on the bench, lost in thought. His eyes lick up and down over me and my traitor body shivers in response.
I offer back a nod, which makes the annoying dimple pop up on Theo’s cheek. He’s biting back the smirk, but he still winks.
My stomach flips. Every time he does that, I remember him pumping gas the night I met him. He was hot then, but with another couple of years on him, he’s changed again. At twenty-eight he’s more man than boy. His shoulders seem wider. He’s more angular, more chiseled, more . . . overwhelming. And he’s got a maturity about him, a wise streak I find comforting. He’s playful but not flighty. Fun but dependable.
If I had to fuck a stranger and get knocked up, I picked a good one. If nothing else, Vivienne will have a great dad in her life.
“Did I kill some brain cells, Doctor Hamilton?”
I realize I’m just standing in the now darkened gym, staring at Theo like it’s my default mode.
Theo reaches for my hand, and I take it. My body moves toward him without me even thinking about it. Without me even admitting I want to.
His warm palm is calloused, proof of the years spent hanging on to a bull rope every weekend and lifting weights during the week. His thumb grazes the top of my hand as he sets the alarm system and leads me into the warm summer night.
With only the crunching of our feet on the loose gravel in the back lane, I finally say what I’ve been thinking. “I feel like I owe you.”
“Owe me what?” His voice is smooth and velvety tonight, and it brushes up against my skin. It soothes me.
“Sex, or something.”
“Or something? Now that part has me interested. What is the ‘or something’?” He cracks the joke, not realizing the way my mind can take it, spin it, and twist into something he never meant for it to be. Like he wouldn’t want the sex.
“Funny.” I glance down at our hands as he takes his fingers and threads them through mine.
“Hey.” His tone is less playful now, and I can’t meet his eyes. “Don’t drop your head like that. Stop thinking whatever you’re thinking, because I guarantee it’s wrong.”
He stops, tugging me to face him, and lifts my chin with a bent knuckle. “Winter.”
Inky eyes and hair, golden skin; the darkness of the night gives him an edge.
I lick my lips. “Theo.”
“Yeah, Tink?”
“I don’t understand what’s happening here. The things you say. The things you do. Everything that’s happened. It doesn’t make sense. I can’t figure it out.”
He tilts his head, as if he’s trying to figure me out from a different perspective. “What’s happening is Miss Independent met the treat-her-like-a-princess guy, and she’s freaking out.”
I roll my eyes. “That’s ridiculous.”
“You only think you owe me something because you’ve spent too long dating assholes who are terrible lays. Just sit back and enjoy the ride. Stop overthinking it. Plus, my face is the ride.” His lips twitch and I mirror the motion.
“You’re insane.” I pull away, trying to hide my laughter. But I don’t let go of his hand as we round the end of the block, heading back toward our respective houses.
“But it’s a nice face, isn’t it? If you had to ride one?”
Laughter bubbles up in me. It fills my chest and clogs my throat. It bursts from me like a song I can’t resist singing. It sounds foreign to me, light and musical.
God. Am I giggling?
His fingers pulse in mine, and then he tugs me back and kisses me. His mouth slants over mine and he swallows my laughter like he wants to keep it for himself.
He created it, so I suppose it’s only fair I give it back to him. Our fingers stay linked and his opposite hand dusts over my jaw with a light tremor.
Soft lips. Soft hair. Soft sighs. It’s not a long kiss, but it’s a heart-rending one. Natural, as though he couldn’t help himself.
And not for the first time tonight, I feel wanted.
When he pulls away, I leave my eyes shut for a moment, letting this feeling warm me. Because it’s fleeting and I want to remember it.
My eyes are still closed when he leans in and says, “Next time, you ride my face. You’re going to ask for it. Beg for it. Work for it even. You will tell me exactly what you want, and I will give it to you. But this isn’t happening again until that time. Until you know what you want. Because I want you, Winter. And not just for one night.”
With that, he takes my breath and pulls me along with him down the quiet, tree-lined street. My brain goes from freaking out about Theo to freaking out about the woman sitting on his front step.
I know I shouldn’t.
He says I’ve been part of his plan. But I’m terrified to believe it.
24
Theo
Theo: I need to ask you a favor.
Summer: Sure!
Theo: But you can’t ask questions.
Summer: Suspicious. But okay.
Theo: I need to delete some of your security cam footage at the gym. Can you show me how?
Summer: Uhhhh. Okay. Can I do it for you?
Theo: No.
Summer: Was a crime committed?
Theo: No.
Summer: Do I even want to know?
Theo: I said no questions and so far, you’ve asked three.
Winter goes from soft and giddy to all locked up. When I glance down, I see her tight jaw and narrowed eyes. I follow her gaze to a woman sitting on my front step, scrolling through her phone.
A woman I’d know anywhere.
“Mom? What are you doing here?”
Winter jolts, yanking her hand from mine like we’re two teenagers caught doing something we shouldn’t, rather than two adults who share a child.
I could let her rebuff sting, but I don’t. She’s not accustomed to a warm welcome from people who only know stories about her.
Based on what happened tonight, she’s not accustomed to people simply liking her for the woman she is. That makes me want to burn the world down around us to right the wrongs people have laid at her feet over the years.
Instead of arson, I’m settling for showing her how good it could be. Showing her what she deserves.
“Came to visit you. Told you I was going to come early.”
“Right, but you didn’t say today. Or give me any specific day at all.” Dropping in unannounced is not out of the norm for my mom. If her schedule changes, she’ll randomly show up at an event of mine, screaming louder than anyone else in the stands.
“I reserve the right to be overbearing. You’re my only boy.”
“Do you do this to Julia?”
“No. But her life isn’t nearly as interesting. She won’t even tell me about whoever she met on the cruise. But I know she did because I caught her sneaking in and out at night.” My mom winks at me, cheeks rounding out into full circles with her closed-mouth smile.
“Is that how I get rid of you, then? By not telling you anything?” I’m joking, and we both know it. That’s why she laughs and glances around.
“At first, it pissed me off I couldn’t find a spare key somewhere obvious. You know, under your doormat like a normal person. But then I decided I raised you smarter than I thought because I have looked for a key everywhere and couldn’t find one.”