“Sorry, I just wanted—” I drag a hand down my face. “I don’t know what I wanted, but for some reason I thought you wanted it too.”
A pained noise rushes out of him. “It isn’t a matter ofwanting,” he says with a tortured expression. “The way I want you, Fabes... the way I’ve always wanted you.” He drops his forehead to mine, subtly shaking his head back and forth. “Of course I’ve dreamt of kissing you. Thoroughly and enthusiastically.”
I sigh, folding my hands in the front of his shirt. “Then why aren’t we kissing right now? I bet we’d be great at it. We’d have good chemistry. Ifeel it in my bones.” Kissing him sounds exhilarating. Just the right amount of reckless.
He groans, a bitten-off, jagged sound from the back of his throat. “Because you’ve been drinking.” His head lifts, his heavy gaze meeting mine. “And if we’re going to do this—give in to this thing between us—I want it to be a conscious choice. Idon’t want to be something you regret tomorrow morning. My heartcouldn’t handle that.”
“But... I’ve been wanting you longer than just tonight.”
His fingers graze my cheek and tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “Then tomorrow. If you still want this. Okay?”
My whole body droops as exhaustion sweeps in. “Okay.”
A ghost of a smile flickers over his mouth. “Time for bed.” He nudges me to turn and continue upstairs.
I trip over the next step, and he mutters under his breath—something aboutfucking railingandunsafe. He keeps one hand anchored on my waist the whole time, like he’s worried I might fall at any moment.
When we reach the loft, he sits on the edge of the bed while I go the bathroom. Idrop the toothpaste once and bang my elbow on the wall while trying to get my bra off, but I manage. By the time I reemerge—sans makeup and wearing my favorite shorts-and-tank sleep set and socks—Theo’s elbows are on his thighs, his focus on the ground.
As I step out, his eyes lift. It’s a slow drag, all the way from my toes to my face. His throat bobs on a swallow. His gaze falls behind me, to the lacy bra and panties set lying on the ground. He squeezes his eyes shut.
“I’m going to get some water.” I take a step toward the stairs, and he jumps up.
“No. No way in hell I’m letting you walk down those steps in your current state. They’re basically a death trap.” He points to the bed. “Sit. Stay.”
I arch a brow. “Woof?”
One dimple appears. “Lie down,” he orders before descending the stairs.
I’m half asleep by the time he returns but sit up long enough to take a big drink of water before falling back to the mattress. Icatch his hand after he sets the cup on the nightstand. “Sit. Stay.”
He gives my fingers an affectionate squeeze. “I can’t.”
“I might try to go down the steps again.”
“That wouldn’t be very wise.”
I try pleading with my eyes now. “Lie down. You already know I’m prone to crying while drunk. You don’t want that, do you?”
A muscle ticks in his jaw. “Sweetheart,please.”
The endearment lodges somewhere in my chest. He says it like that word was made for him and me. Like it never existed before it dripped from his lips, syrupy and thick. Ihave half a mind to tell him I’m not sweet at all, but the way he’s looking at me—full of affection and longing—I think maybe I could be.
If he thought thatsweetheartwas going to make me give up, he was so wrong. Ipull harder, wrapping both hands around his elbow and yanking him over me. He falls easily—like he’s a house of cards tumbling over—landing sideways across my body.
It takes a minute for him to get situated. He kicks off his shoes and sends a quick text before he lies flat on his back beside me, on top of the covers. Long legs stretch down to the end of the mattress. Idon’t think he’s breathing.
“Theo?”
“Mm-hmm?”
A yawn. “Thanks for staying.”
His pinky slides over and curls around mine on the blanket. “Fabes?”
“Theo?”
“Happy birthday.”
