I check the party one more time—no Theo, no surprise—and then text Sabrina for his number while I head back toward our room one more time.
But as I’m passing the bistro, I realize there’s a light on in the kitchen.
And I smell something sweet.
I start to thinkhe wouldn’t, remember this is Theo we’re talking about, and I circle the building.
When I poke my head in the back door, I’m both surprised and also not to see him inside.
He’s stripped off his shirt and only flipped on a single light in the white-and-steel kitchen. The prep table is a mess of flour and sugar, butter, eggs, chocolate chips, and dirty spoons and bowls. He’s pulling a tray of cookies out of the oven.
And it smells like heaven.
Also like my hangover cure this morning.
Emma knew. She knew he found a place to make homemade cookies.
I slip in the back door and let it close behind me.
His shoulders bunch like he heard me.
“Cross my heart, I won’t freak out about rules,” I say quietly. “Those smell too good.”
“You missed dinner.”
“Eh. I had tacos yesterday.Youmissed dinner.”
“Shouldn’t be here.”
“Me? You? Both of us?”
“You.”
“It shouldn’t be only your responsibility to play nice with your sister’s fiancé. He should’ve said thank you. You’ve done a lot for them this week, and I don’t care what his reason might be, it’s not right that he’s being an ass about it.”
“Go away, Laney.”
His gruff dismissal is a cannonball to the heart, which is the last thing I’d expect.
Theo has been a pain in my ass for years. But I’m realizing I’ve misjudged him. Or at least never taken the time to look at the man he’s grown into instead of the boy I assumed he’d stay his whole life.
Never thought aboutwhyhe does what he does.
What matters to him. The things that he’s been through that no one talks about. That he’s allowed to live his life on his own terms, but even when you’re happy with where you’re at and happy with what you’re doing, people will judge you for it.
And they shouldn’t.
Ishouldn’t.
That’s on me. That’s my bad.
He won’t look atmedifferently if I never give him a chance to do it either.
And honestly? I think he’s making me look at myself differently too.
Not all rules are necessary. People change. Beinggoodisn’t necessarilybetter.
Not when it makes me feel like I’m notliving.
