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When he takes his hands away from his face, there’s a bright sheen to his eyes. I know how he feels. So much more than I’d like to. That’s how I know I have to stop him. He turns his head back and forth, looking for any sign of more eavesdroppers, but it’s just me. I don’t know how long that’s been true, though. How could he be so stupid to rehearse that big speech of his out in the open, where anyone could hear him?
“You don’t understand.” He shakes his head, backing away from me.
“Oh no.” I throw my body in front of him before he has the
chance to get away. The side of my head hits him square in
the chest, and we both let out an oof as we stumble backward. The scent of whiskey mixes with his cologne, a startlingly intoxicating combination that makes my head spin. Well, that answers the question of how much he’s had to drink tonight. I take a few steps back, shaking my head to clear it before facing him.
“Theo, you can’t. You’re drunk and bound to regret everything in the morning. Come on.”
I grab him by the arm to drag him away from the party, but he doesn’t move an inch. Of course. I forgot who I was trying to exert physical force on. His bicep is hard and muscular, warm through the fabric of his white dress shirt. I almost want to keep groping his arm before I remember the urgency of the situation we’re in and force myself to focus. Oddly, he’s smiling that amused smile again from when I drove over a speed bump and hit his head. I can use that. If my weird antics amuse him, maybe I can distract him from breaking up his brother’s relationship.
“Come on, big guy. I’ll call you an Uber.” I attempt to push him back, which proves yet again to be futile.
“I don’t need one.” He steps forward as if to walk past me, but I move with him, blocking his path again. This time I splay my hands on his chest, and holy shit. But I don’t have time to marvel at the feel of his hard abdominal muscles beneath my hands. I quickly remove my hands, before I start getting creepy, although I keep them up high enough to block him from passing me. He heaves a frustrated sigh, no longer amused.
“I think you do,” I tell him, pushing up to my tiptoes to whisper in his ear. My head doesn’t even come close to his, even in heels, so I end up whispering into his neck. My hand rests at the top of his chest to keep me upright. He shivers under my touch, a low buzz beneath my fingertips.
“Think about what you’re about to do. Really think about it,” I implore him. “This is your brother’s engagement party. He’ll never forgive you for trying to steal Alice away, no matter the outcome.”
That seems to sober him for the moment. He looks past me toward the crowd. I turn around to do the same, and that’s when I notice the eyes on us. The number of heads turning our way. The covert whispers. Fucking shit, we have to get out of here now.
“How many people know?” I ask under my breath.
He looks back down at me. There’s an unreadable quality to his expression. “Just you.”
“Are you sure?” I grip his sculpted arm, not daring to let myself become distracted as I meet his dark eyes seriously. “No one else walked past you tonight?”
“No.” He starts to shake his head, but then hesitates mid-shake. “Not that I know of, at least…”
“Fuck.” I push my hair back from my face. When I drag him backward this time, he gives under my touch and follows after me. “Come on. We have to leave before—” Before we make any more trouble.
Because I’m afraid of how tempting the thought in the back of my brain is. Let him confess. Help Ben pick up the pieces, if it comes to it. I’m so close to the moment I’ve dreamed of for years.
But I can’t be that person. I just can’t.
Not anymore. Theo Young is my reminder.
Four
There’s no way he can go back to Alice and Ben’s place in his drunken state, so I tell Theo he can spend the night on my couch.
He stumbles into a stack of overdue library books sitting on the entry table, scattering them to the floor. My apartment is cozy (read: tiny), and not at all built for someone Theo’s height. He had to bend down to walk through the threshold of my front door, but drunk as he is, he can barely walk straight. He looks down at the fallen books and stifles a laugh by covering his mouth with one hand.
I grab his arm and pull it over my shoulders to steady him. One of mine wraps around his waist. Despite our awkward height difference, thankfully we appear to be more or less the same weight, so I’m able to keep him upright easily.
“Come on, big guy.” I step over the books, and after a prolonged beat of Theo’s features schooling into deep focus, he puts one foot in front of the other, carefully sidestepping the fallen YA novels. I really do need to return them to work.
After leading him to the couch in the living room, I bend down and return the stack to the table. Then I grab a spare blanket and pillow from my bedroom, but by the time I return to the living room he’s already out cold. Long lashes fan the tops of his flushed cheeks. His legs dangle over the end of the couch, like he’s a large, cartoon giant. I watch him for a moment as his chest rises and falls in steady breaths. His face looks so innocent when he’s asleep, not at all like the face of a mastermind plotting to ruin his brother’s engagement.
Maybe, in the morning, I can convince him to keep his feelings for Alice to himself. If anyone’s equipped to dole out advice about unrequited love, it’s me.
I let out a sigh, unfolding the fluffy, pink blanket and draping it over Theo’s body. My mouth quirks up as I watch him sleep. The bright color brings his age down a decade, softening the hard edges of his features. He doesn’t look so scary when he’s fast asleep, swaddled in a pale pink blanket. His arm moves to drag it over his shoulders, but other than that he doesn’t stir. Not even when I ram my foot into the coffee table on my way to my bedroom, or when I let out a whispered, high-pitched curse.
But just as I reach the door to my bedroom, I hear him say something that sounds like my name. I turn around, taking careful steps back toward the couch so as not to wake him in case I’m just hearing things. His eyes are still closed, his facial features relaxed. I linger in the living room for a moment, and just when I’m about to leave again he gives a mumbled “thank you” that barely moves his lips.
At the sight of my warm, inviting bed, the exhaustion of tonight settles in my bones. I take a quick shower and change into an old T-shirt and plaid pajama shorts, before finally throwing back the blue covers of my bedspread and curling myself inside the cocoon of blankets. But as I try to fall asleep, my thoughts won’t stop reeling. There’s no doubt in my mind that I did the right thing tonight, but I selfishly can’t stop thinking about what would’ve happened if I hadn’t intervened and let Theo talk to Alice.
