Page 104 of Make Me Mean It

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

CONNOR

Steam follows me out of the bathroom, heat still clinging to my skin as I shove a hand through my damp hair, only to slow when I find Theo sitting on the edge of the bed, staring straight at me.

He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning back against his hands, green eyes sliding down my body with no attempt to hide where they’re going. By the time they make it back to my face, his nostrils flare around a deeper breath.

Heat rushes straight back into my face, and I look down, too aware of the shirt he gave me hanging loose from my shoulders and leaving my legs almost entirely bare.

The fabric still smells like him, and now that I’ve noticed it, I can’t stop. Every breath brings another trace of his detergent and that stupid cologne that seems to cling to everything he owns, while his body wash is still warm on my skin beneath it.

I’ve showered and somehow come out smelling more like Theo than I did when I went in.

“Thanks,” I mutter, looking down, my fingers curling into the hem.

A stupid little smile pulls at my mouth, and when I lift my eyes again, Theo’s fingers are twisted into the duvet, knuckles pale against the dark fabric, his gaze fixed on me.

I cross the room, not taking my eyes off him. The closer I get, the farther his head tips back to keep my gaze, until I’m standing right in front of him with his knees almost brushing my thighs.

Theo is usually the one looming over me, crowding into my space with that lazy confidence like he knows exactly what he’s doing to me. Now I’m the one standing over him while he sits there gripping the duvet, swollen lips parted slightly as he looks up at me.

Seeing him looking up at me drags me straight back to Theo on his knees with those same green eyes fixed on mine. My mouth goes dry when his tongue sweeps slowly over his bottom lip, and I close the last of the distance between us, stepping between his knees.

His thighs part around me without hesitation, and the ease of it sends another rush of heat through my stomach. Theo breathes in as I move closer, his eyes darkening before his hands come up and catch in the front of my shirt.

“I can take the couch,” he says quietly.

“No.”

Theo’s brows lift, but the thought of him leaving me here alone in his bed makes my chest ache. After everything we’ve done tonight, this is where he’s decided we need distance?

His mouth opens, probably to argue, and I plant both hands against his chest and shove.

Theo drops onto the mattress, surprise flashing across his face as I follow him down, climbing between his legs and moving over him until my hands sink into the bed on either side of his head.

His palms find my hips, biting deep into the skin, his eyes falling to my mouth.

“That’s just fucking unfair,” he rasps. “I’m trying not to fuck up more than I already have.”

My brows pull together. “Why do you keep talking about what we did like that?”

“Like what?”

I stare at him, irritation already crawling higher because he fucking knows.

“Like you’re the only one responsible.”

Theo gives a shrug that would probably work better if he could actually look at me while he does it. His eyes drop instead, hands slipping beneath the hem of my shirt until his palms settle against my sides.

My breath catches at the contact, goosebumps lifting beneath his rough hands, his fingers flexing against my skin, but his eyes stay lowered.

“Aren’t I?” he huffs. “I knew what I was doing-”

“And I didn’t?”

His eyes snap back to mine, and the irritation I’ve been trying to keep hold of sharpens as I move closer until there’s barely enough room left between our faces to breathe.

“Last I checked, I fucked you.”