All the warmth was sucked out of the room with my words, and suddenly I was ice cold beneath him.
Theo looked like I’d slapped him. “I can’t?”
He was still in that same aching spot. I was riding a wicked, dangerous edge, my heartbeat too loud in my ears. The throbbing between my thighs, the one in my heart, and the one rising in my throat all distort to one twisted feeling.
“I mean—” I could feel him pulling away and I didn’t want him to do it physically so I grappled onto his shoulders. “I don’t know why I said that.”
Yes, I did.
Theo Hound couldn’t love me. It would be so much harder to keep him separate. To keep him safe.
Keep me safe.
Theo pushed off me and my heart rushed and pounded as he got farther away. I was screwing this up. I was fucking up everything. He was yanking on his jeans, throwing on his shirt, and I couldn’t think of the right words to fix it.
“Theo, wait—”
He stopped, his jeans unbuttoned, giving me one last chance.
I had nothing. Nothing could make what he’d said okay. If the one boy—the one person—I couldn’t lose in this world started to love me, then I could lose him forever.
The door slammed behind him. I should run after him and tell him how much I love him. I never stopped loving him. He was as essential to my heart as the blood that made it beat.
Instead I fell to my back.
The feel of our almost still lingered between my thighs, a deep-rooted, unsatisfied ache that now matched the one spreading from my chest. I was drowning. Wet, like he’d made me. Wet, from my tears.
Tears fell down my cheeks, but I didn’t sob. I couldn’t. I was too shocked. Of all the fuckups I’d ever made, this was the worst. I didn’t just make him think it was okay to love me… I made him think I was worth it.
Twenty-Three
ABIGAIL
I’d fucked up so much. Theo and I hadn’t spoken since last night, and now he just stood guard outside my room, like nothing happened. I’d opened my mouth so many times to speak, and each time closed it. I didn’t know what to say or do to fix it.
Edward was the perfect needle to pop our rose-tinted bubble.
I was the perfect needle.
“Ten minutes until breakfast.”
I slammed my laptop shut at his voice.
He eyed the action, pain flickering in his eyes, but said nothing, stepping back to position. Guilt slammed into me.
I’d caved and emailed a PI, and they’d messaged me back, told me they thought they weren’t sure they could find Theo’s mother, not with the little information I’d given them, but they’d try. I didn’t know how to tell him. Theo had made it clear he didn’t want to look for her, and I was worried he’d be mad, especially after last night.
“Theo, wait!” I threw my laptop off my lap, jumping off the bed. “Let me explain.”
He stared forward. “You don’t owe me any explanations.”
“But—”
“You’re going to be late for breakfast, Ms. Crowne.”
Ms. Crowne. It was like the past months never happened. Last night never happened.
I sighed and walked back into my bedroom to get dressed. In Switzerland, we always had to dress up, but at least for breakfast a tea-length periwinkle tulle dress would do, rather than a gown. Theo was in another mouthwatering slate-gray suit.