But for the last three days, the gazebo has been forced to bear witness to hours of my mental roller coaster over that rental space. Every lunch break, I scurry out the door of Hawkins Hardware and plant myself on this bench with a book. Itry my best to read Gramps’s worn copy ofMy Side of the Mountain, but the building across the street steals all my attention.
The ornate double doors. The windows partially covered in paper from the inside. The cracked sidewalk. The small, red ForRent sign.
As much as I want to walk over there, I haven’t let myself. Idon’t feel brave enough for that. So, instead, I sit. Ithink. And I try my best to ignore that the bookshop idea is burrowing under my skin, headed straight for my heart.
“Want some company?” The familiar voice startles me as Theo appears in my line of vision, dark green scrubs stretched over those broad shoulders. He’s clutching a bag from the taco truck on the corner. “Or am I interrupting your staring contest with that building?”
The gazebo now witnesses at least five seconds of me gazing longingly at those damn lips—the ones that kissed me three days ago.Reallykissed. Like the kind of kiss that lit up my entire body and had me finally giving up on the vibrator ban I instated after the hospital incident.
It might actually be unhealthy how much time I’ve spent thinking about those lips.
“I’m not having a staring contest,” I lie as he sits on the bench beside me.
“This is the third time I’ve seen you doing this on your lunch break.”
Shit.“So you’ve been spying on me from the clinic windows, then?”
Instead of answering, he hands me a drink. “Thought you could at least be hydrated and fed while you stare,” he says, offering me two foil-wrapped tacos.
Suddenly ravenous at the sight, I peel back the foil and take a huge bite. The spice sparks on my tongue, and I sigh with pleasure. When my eyes cut over to Theo, his focus is pinned to me.
“Thank you,” I mutter around my bite.
A warm grin curves his lips. “You’re welcome,” he replies, leaning over to press a kiss to my temple.
These temple kisses are going to have to stop. The kisses on the lips are hot and horny and all-consuming. But the soft kisses? The ones he whispers against me, gently and intimately. Those are the ones that feel out of my control. They feel so unfake that my heart can’t sort them out.
Theo has told me real relationships aren’t on the table, but when he kisses me like that, I wonder if he’s forgetting too. It’s easy to get swept up in the moment, but I’m trying my best to hold on to the boundary between us. Honestly, I don’t have the capacity for a relationship right now either. I’m barely keeping my life together, and I know for sure that romantic distractions wouldn’t help me focus one bit.
Physicaldistractions, though? Well, I might be able to make time for that. My body won’t stopwantinghim. I’m drawn to him in a way that seems threaded into the fabric of who I am. It’s a twisted, knotted feeling in my gut, pulling me closer to him all the time, and I’m starting to wonder if I might actually be more productive if I gave into that part.
Maybe it’s because I’ve known him for so long? Maybe it’s just that I know I’m safe with him? I trust Theo, and I know that whatever limits and boundaries I ask for, he would follow them explicitly.
I’m not quite sure I know how to have ajust physicalrelationship. Hell, I don’t even know what to call that. I’ve had one-night stands, and I’ve had relationships, but this would fall somewhere in between. Some sort of no-strings, friends-with-benefits situationship?
“Ran into Ethan at Coffee Cottage this morning,” he says, wadding up the foil from his first taco. “He told me the drive-in is doing a fundraiser this weekend. They’re trying to get a better sound system before the summer movie series, so they’re hosting an all-night marathon. The concession stand will be open, the Branch is setting up a bar, Mrs. LaGrande is bringing cupcakes. The whole nine yards.” His brows bounce in awe should gomotion.
“What movies?”
“It’ll be fun,” he says, ignoring my question.
“What movies, Theo?”
He winces. “Screamone through four?”
My lips press into a thin line. “Remember when I hid under the coffee table duringThe Sixth Sense? I can’t handle scary movies.”
“Right, but isScreamreallyscary? Or is it hilarious and... campy?”
“Scary!”
“But youlovemurder,” he insists, and I’ll give him half credit for that.
“I like murdermystery. True crime. The puzzle part, not the gory part.”
He nods like we’re talking about the same thing. “And I’ll be there to protect you.” He gives me a cocky grin, and dammit, he’s so fucking cute it hurts to look at him sometimes. Iwant to kiss that smirk right off his face.
That desperately horny part of my brain takes over and decides that cuddling up next to Theo all night sounds lovely. “Fine,” I concede. Ican close my eyes during the scary parts.
