A deep chuckle sounds behind me. “Don’t think it was his first choice, but Mia wasn’t letting it go.”
I stumble again. Damn these two left feet. “I love Mia. She’s the best friend ever.”
“Good, because I think you’re stuck with her.” The world stops moving and keys jangle at my side. He must be unlocking the door. Thank goodness, because I think I’m tilting.
“Whoa.” I land against a warm wall of muscle and let it hold me up for a minute. It smells nice here. Like trees and manly things. Icould live here on this wall, I decide. I’m never moving from this spot. Doesn’t matter if *NSYNC shows up in the flesh and tells me I must move, I’m not doing it. This wall is my homenow.
The wall pushes into me. “In you go,” it says.
I resist the urge to stomp my foot like a toddler. “I amnotleaving this spot.”
“Did you just stomp your foot?” Theo asks, grabbing my arms to steer me inside.
“No, I didn’t. I’m twenty-nine years old.” I transform my voice into an absolutely horrendous rendition of a Jane Austen–era heroine. “I have no money and no prospects.” I hiccup once. I’m butchering this, but I keep going anyway. “I’m a burden to my parents and... and I’mfrightened. So don’t judge me, Theo. Don’t you dare judge me!”
“The fact that you can quote the 2005Pride and Prejudicebut not walk in a straight line is really an accomplishment,” he says, herding me around the couch.
I whirl to face him. “You’ve seen that movie?” The room keeps spinning even when he grabs my elbows.
“Yep. You and Mia watched it a lot growing up, remember?”Oh, yeah.Knocks pushes himself against my ankle and Theo bends to pick him up. “This little guy needs food, I bet.”
I gasp. “Food! Yes! I need that too.” I tumble toward the kitchenand rip open the fridge. Damn past-me for not going grocery shopping again. As much as I want to be able to survive on tea and audiobooks, it’s just not cutting it. “Where are thesnacks?”
Theo chuckles as he flips on the light and scoops out food for Knocks. “We’re going grocery shopping tomorrow.”
“We?”
“We.” He rummages around in the cabinet for a moment. “I’m taking you. To make sure you actually do it. You can’t live on hazelnut spread and Ritz crackers.”
“Excuse me,sir,” I say, reaching into the cabinet beside him. “You take that back. Iabsolutelycan.” I tear into the cracker package like a starving raccoon. The silverware drawer screeches as I yank it open and pull out a butter knife. Then I sit on the counter, swinging my feet, as I spread the chocolate-y, hazelnut-y goodness on crackers and shove them in my mouth.
Theo watches me, his eyes crinkling on the edges with amusement.
“You wanna try?” I offer, dipping the knife into the jar.
“Sure.” I fix it up for him, and he chews with a thoughtful expression. Finally, he says, “All right. Iconcede. It’s really good.”
“Dark chocolate is where it’s at,” I inform him, holding up the container.
“We’ll be sure to get some more at the store tomorrow, then.” He reaches around me for a water glass, fills it, and hands it to me. Idown half of it in one go.
Tipping my head, I stare up at the ceiling. The beams sway a little, making me feel even more dizzy, so I look back at Theo instead. He’s watching me intently, dimples carved out in his cheeks and mocha eyes dialed-in. Ihave all his attention.
But that makes me feel swirly and upside down, so I focus on my snacks again. Snacks are safe. Snacks are good. Snacks don’thave lopsided grins that make my stomach curl into knots. I eat two crackers in a row without looking up.
All of a sudden, Theo is on his knees in front of me. One hand grabs my ankle and my drunk–lizard brain screeches in the back of my head.What is happening? Is he about to lift up my dress?
Ohhhh. He’s unlacing my shoes. Cool.Iam very cool and not at all warm at the sight of him on his knees in front of me.
I need to get a grip.
He unties both of my shoes and pulls them off, leaving me in short wool socks, before he leans against the other counter.
“Thank you,” I whisper. Or croak, rather. Idon’t know, it comes out weird. Iclear my throat, trying to think of something funny to say to alleviate this tension somehow. “It’s been a long time since I drank this much, but you’re pretty lucky. Normally after alcohol, I’m hungry, turned-on,andcrying.” I shake my head, shoving one more cracker into my mouth and garbling around it, “Tonight it’s only two out of three.”
A choking sound leaves the back of his throat. Then silence drenches the room, only punctuated by the slow crunching inside my mouth. Maybe that wasn’t nearly as funny as I thought. His pupils are blown wide, which is odd because I’m the drunk one—he was nursing a water glass all night. His knuckles are white as he squeezes the edge of the counter.
I swallow hard and wash it down with the rest of my water. “There’s still time for tears though.” I laugh, twisting the lid onto the hazelnut spread.
