Page 52 of What We Don't Say: Part One

Theo tucks closer to Callie until his forehead rests against her shoulder. Her cheek settles over his hair, and his hand remains close enough to mine that his knuckles brush my thigh every time he breathes.

My chest hurts with how badly I want to keep it.

I touch Theo’s wrist. “Still with me?”

He turns back, eyes darker now, mouth swollen from my kiss. He nods, then taps once.

Green.

The next kiss is deeper. Still careful, but not as fragile. He answers me this time, fingers curling in my shirt while Callie’s hand stays in his hair. I keep one hand on his cheek and the other flat on the cushion where he can see it, because if I touch his waist right now, I might forget how new he is for one dangerous second.

He's the one who moves closer.

His knee presses against mine. His hand slides from my chest to my shoulder. The sound he makes into my mouth is soft and wanting, and my body surges so hard my scent fills the room.

Theo jerks back.

I release him instantly.

His breathing comes too fast. His eyes are wide, not terrified, but flooded. He looks at Callie, then Idris, then the cards, thenme. His fingers fumble in the air before he taps the cushion twice.

Yellow.

“Good,” Idris says at once. “We pause.”

I put both hands on my own knees and lean back until my spine hits the couch. It costs me. My body doesn't understand why we have stopped when Theo’s taste is still in my mouth and Callie’s scent is curled around both of us, but my body can go complain to the moon. Theo gave yellow.

Yellow means pause.

Callie strokes his hair once, then stops. “Do you want space, Star?”

Theo shakes his head.

“Do you want quiet?” Idris asks.

Theo nods.

The room changes around that one answer. Garrett picks up the remote and lowers the volume on the rain sounds Callie put on after dinner. Idris moves the plant book off Theo’s lap. I keep my mouth shut, which should earn me an award.

Theo leans sideways until his head rests against Callie’s shoulder. His hand stays near mine, close enough that his knuckles brush my thigh, but he doesn't reach again.

I let him have the almost-touch.

Theo’s breathing begins to slow against Callie’s shoulder. Once the tension leaves his fingers, Idris comes around the couch and touches his ankle through the blanket. “That was well done.”

Theo peeks at him.

“You told us yellow,” Idris says. “We stopped. That is the system working.”

Theo’s eyes fill again, and he hides his face against Callie’s cardigan.

Callie looks at me over his head, wrecked and beautiful and trying to hold still for him. I reach across Theo’s legs and takeher free hand, bringing her knuckles to my mouth. I kiss her there because she needs it and because I need to remind myself that she's still right here, part of this, the whole point of this.

Garrett stands after a while and stretches one hand toward the coffee table. “Movie?”

Theo lifts his head.

Sloane Rivera, known threat to household peace, doesn't make a single comment about Garrett using a movie as a therapeutic intervention. I want credit for that too.