“Unfortunately.” My throat is raw, the sound of my own voice making me wince.
He gestures toward the coffee pot. “Coffee? There’s creamer in the fridge.”
I nod, drawn in by the scent alone. He moves aside, and as I reach for a mug, my eyes catch on the collection stacked inside the cabinet.
I bite back a laugh. “Wow.”
His brows lift. “What?”
“Oh, nothing. Just admiring your taste in aggressively corny mugs.”
I grab one that readsJolly AFand pour myself a cup. No creamer. Just black, the way I like it.
The counter in front of me is cluttered with unopened mail. My gaze flickers over the top envelope, catching the printed name.
Theo Hayes.
Theo.
It suits him. And I do a little dance inside, now knowing his name.
I settle onto a stool at the counter, leaving one between us. A buffer. The coffee is strong and smooth, warming my insides as I take a sip. I close my eyes, humming in appreciation before I can stop myself.
Beside me, he stiffens.
I blink at him. “What?”
His jaw ticks as he looks away and changes the subject. “So… how much do you remember?”
I trace the rim of my mug with a finger, eyes flicking toward him, then back to my coffee.
I remember enough.
The solid warmth of his chest as he carried me inside, the gentle way he tucked the blanket over me, the way he looked at me… like he was torn between wanting to protect me and forcing himself not to touch.
Like he was holding back.
A shiver trails down my spine, barely noticeable, but his eyes catch it.
I force a small, wry smile. “Enough to be embarrassed.”
He exhales through his nose, slow and measured. “You don’t need to be.”
I huff a humourless laugh. “Easy for you to say. You weren’t the one who passed out in their teacher’s car after getting shit-faced at a stupid party.”
His jaw tightens at the word.Teacher.
I don’t miss it.
Emotion flickers behind his eyes, but it's quickly buried. Like he needed the reminder. LikeIneeded the reminder.
I take another sip of coffee, letting the bitter heat roll over my tongue.
“You carried me in, didn’t you?”
His fingers curl around his mug, knuckles white. He doesn’t answer right away, and I know that meansyes.
“What else was I supposed to do?” His voice is rougher now. “Leave you in the driveway?”
