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A beat of silence follows his explanation. His eyes fall away from my face, as if realizing he’s said too much. I can’t look him in the face either, not when I realize he’s including me in that list. But the scariest revelation of all is he might be right.
“Ben most of all,” I say to break the tension, my mind racing. “Is that why you hate him?”
“He hates me more,” Theo says, expression turning icy. “Believe me.”
“What reason could he possibly have?” I ask, but he just shakes his head.
“I don’t know. Petty shit from our childhood,” he says, but there has to be more to it than that. He confirms my theory when he says, “There was a lot of unhealthy competition between us growing up, and a lot of half-buried resentment between us now. So, when he started dating Alice…” He trails off, but I get his meaning loud and clear. I wonder if that’s really the way Ben sees her. As nothing more than a prize to be won.
“I’m sorry you’re getting pulled into it again now.” Theo finally meets my eyes. “I get it if it’s too much for you.”
“Too late for that,” I say, mouth pulling up slightly. He doesn’t return my wry grin, and instead manages to look grimmer than before. “Hey. I’m not going anywhere,” I assure him, reaching over for his hand. “I knew what I was getting into. Nothing’s changed.”
“Really?” he asks hesitantly.
“We’re in too deep to go back now,” I tell him. “And… I wouldn’t want to.”
I’m not sure why confessing this feels like I’m giving part of myself away, but the way his eyes sear through me sends heat throughout my entire body. When he kisses me, his mouth is scorching against mine. My hands curl into his hair as he fists the fabric at my sides, pulling me in closer.
“Let’s get out of here.”
I sit back in my seat as he puts the car in drive, laughing when he guns the engine. He’s not the only one in a hurry.
Eighteen
There’s no rush this time, our kisses long and lingering and exploratory.
He has me pinned to the front door of my apartment, in full view of the front-facing windows of the next building over. I’m not sure how much the shadows cover us, but surprisingly, I just don’t care. We’ve never kissed like this before, his mouth warm and languid on mine. Like we’ve done this for years. Like we could do it for a couple more. My fingers trace the stubble on his cheeks, reveling in the scratchiness. Our movements have always been frantic up until this point, afraid of running out the invisible clock above our heads. Two teenagers past curfew, ensuring every minute alone counts before we’re due back home.
It’s different with us this time, but I can hardly mark the change.
“We should probably head inside soon,” he says between kisses, but he doesn’t stop. I don’t either.
“You’re probably right,” I say against his lips, pressing my body against his.
This.
This is exactly the distraction I need, but we’ve almost become more than that. I should need him to get my mind off his brother, to forget the ache in my chest every time I see him with Alice, but Ben is the last person on my mind.
When Theo’s tongue slides between my lips, all thoughts outside of this moment evaporate. We shift until his back hits the door. One hand slides down his chest as my other reaches for the keys clipped to the strap of my purse. I try for a cool move—unlocking the door while still kissing him, inching us inside while we stay connected—but alas, I am solidly uncool. My steps falter until I fumble against his body. To make matters worse, I accidentally bite down on his lip in an unsexy way as I jam my key into the lock.
“Ow!” He pulls away, a hand raising to his mouth.
“Oh, shit!” I exclaim. “Are you bleeding? I’m so sor—”
“It’s fine, just a little sore.” He drops his hand, revealing the teeth marks on his bottom lip. Even still, he prowls closer, closing the space between us as his hands rest at my waist. “I’ve handled worse.”
An image of his torn hand comes to mind, rivulets of blood trailing down his fingers. The frown marring his
mouth and the wrinkle of skin above the space where his brows met, as if he could feel the pain even in his sleep. Yes, I suppose a bite that didn’t even pierce the skin wouldn’t be worse than that.
I unlock the front door, pull him inside, and flick on the hall light. Theo brushes past me to the couch, patting the space next to him with a smoldering look. His brows furrow when I shake my head as I walk backward from the living room. My back hits the door to my bedroom, even as my eyes stay trained on him.
“No couch,” I tell him as the door swings open. “Bed. Now.”
His smolder turns dark. “Can’t argue with that.”
We collide under the threshold, his arms wrapping around my back and molding me to him. Hands spread down my back, moving heat. Chest to chest, lips to lips, legs tangling as I walk him into the room. My hands slip from the scruff on his cheeks to his dress shirt, pulling at the fabric tucked into his slacks. Searching for skin.
