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I let out a hard laugh, shaking my head before turning off my iPhone and handing it to Krystal. When Theo asks what’s so funny, I shrug and shake my head again. To think Angela missed out on the show Theo and I put on for them. I’ll have to tell her all about it later, when my skin isn’t still humming from his touch.
“Y’know…” Theo covers his mouth over a burp. The stench could rival a dragon’s in terms of flammability. “I hate living with Ben. Like, haaaaate it. This weekend alone is triggering all sorts of bad memories from our childhood.”
“But I thought you guys used to be close?” I ask, leaning forward in interest.
“We were. But I didn’t mind his bad living habits when I actually liked him. It’s like”—his words start to slur together and I have to work extra hard to pay attention to what he’s saying—“you leave one sock on the floor in the hallway and it’s the end of the world.”
“Right.” I nod, already losing interest. This isn’t the chisme I was hoping for. “Hey, how drunk do you think you are right now?”
His brows crease, lines forming on his forehead as he thinks over his answer. I burst out a laugh, shoving his shoulder so hard he wobbles off the stool. He barely manages to catch himself, and scowls as he situates himself back in his seat. “What’d you do that for? I wasn’t done thinking.”
“If you have to think about it, the answer is ‘not enough.’”
He nods solemnly and orders a final round of shots when Krystal announces last call. Theo isn’t the least bit fazed by the bartender’s announcement, but he does rush me into downing the shot before paying the tab and retrieving our phones. Krystal calls us an Uber, ensuring we take one together to keep an eye on each other. I’m glad I can always count on her to keep me safe, which I drunkenly gush to her as we leave the bar.
“Do you wanna stay over again?” I ask Theo as he holds the door open for me. Inside the bar, the lights flick off as employees start packing it in for the night. I haven’t moved the blanket and pillow he used from my couch, and since he seems to hate staying with his brother so much—and because it’s two in the morning—it seems like the kind thing to offer.
Then, because I already sound like I’m propositioning him, I add in a teasing voice, “We’ve already done the walk of shame once. What’s one more time?”
The look he gives me could melt steel. His eyes fall to my lips, and heat pools in my most sensitive places. I try to force my drunk brain not to think about that kiss, but it plays in my mind on repeat. When I lick my lips, I still taste him. All warm heat and lime and salt. He lets out a groan, leaning his head back against the brick building.
Then a flicker of emotion I can’t name clouds his eyes. He shakes his head as if he’s changing his mind about something. “We can’t, Marcela.”
I’m surprised by the disappointment that floods me. That’s not even what I was asking him. At least, not really.
“You’re drunk,” Theo says, as if I don’t already know this. “And I’m drunk. So, we sh-shouldn’t.” He stumbles over his words, overemphasizing his point. “We shouldn’t do this. Not right now.”
My brain catches on that last part, because what in the ever-living fuck does he mean by that?
Not right now.
“Theo.” I have no idea why I’m smiling. “That’s not what I—”
“It’s not that I don’t want—” he continues, until a blue Honda pulls up to the curb. The passenger window rolls down, and the driver gives Theo’s name. He nods at the driver as he steps forward and holds the back door open for me.
“Milady.”
Our eyes meet across the open door. His mouth pulls up in a smile that’s not at all wolfish or devious, but something far more genuine. He follows in after me, closing the door behind him.
It’s not that I don’t want— What?
Me?
There’s no way he means me, but I’m not sure how to bring the conversation back to before the Uber pulled up.
“Is Ben gonna be mad at you for coming home so late?” Theo shrugs at my question. His eyes are half closed; I suspect because he’s already asleep. “You’re welcome to crash on my couch again.”
“Cool. Thanks.”
Nine
I don’t want to be awake right now.
My bed is too comfortable to leave, so I shut my eyes and try to fall back asleep. But something is off, only I can’t tell what. Memories from last night come back in a blur. Alice’s keen eyes, Angela’s flurry of text messages, Theo’s face outlined in red candlelight. His eyes growing hooded, right before he bent forward, and our lips met…
Be careful.
I throw back the duvet from my face, eyes wide open. Near-blinding light pours into the room from the window. I almost hiss and pull the covers back over my face, but there’s no way I can possibly go back to sleep now. Did last night actually happen, or was it just some sort of bizarre fever dream? When the space on the bed beside me shifts, I freeze.
