Page 21

Chapter Twenty-One

AURORA

A nother crash of thunder causes the hotel to shake and sends my heart lurching in my chest. I hate it. I hate it so damn much. There’s nothing cute about a grown woman who has panic attacks over storms. It’s not fun. It’s not quirky. It makes me feel like a kid who never grew up. It’s not the storms that I’m scared of. It’s the memories of what happened on a night just like this. Rain batters the window of my hotel room, and I pull the paper-thin blanket tighter around me as if that’s going to protect me from my thoughts.

When there’s a knock on the door, I get up and go to it. After peeking through the peephole to check that it’s not some monster prowling in the night, I open the door.

Maybe it’s worse.

Theo stands there, one hand in his pocket. His brown eyes are trained on me, like usual, except they look more intense. “What do you need?”

If I look too deeply into it, I’d probably think about how frazzled he looks right now, as if he was concerned over my text. Theo wasn’t my first choice. I texted Jules but she was busy. Probably with Hext. Not touching that right now. I don’t think I’m close enough to Clara to ask her to come sit with me through a storm, and I don’t talk to anyone else. Theo was the only other option.

I swallow. “I don’t like storms.” Understatement of the year. I hate them.

He doesn’t laugh. I was thoroughly convinced that Theo would laugh his ass off once I told him. He gestures for me to step aside as he enters my hotel room. The door closes behind him and he’s quiet as he slips off his shoes. “What do you need me to do?”

“Can you sit with me?”

“Yeah, I can do that.”

It’s tempting to make a joke about how this is the first time we’ve spent more than a few seconds together without Theo making it sexual, but I don’t want to ruin what we have going on. I climb onto one side of the queen bed, sitting with my back against the pillows. He sits on the other, almost in the same position.

Silence washes over us. I worry with a loose thread on the sheet before breaking it off. “I’m sorry if I interrupted your night.”

“I wasn’t doing anything—or anyone—important,” Theo scoffs. He’s quiet before adding, “I was worried you were hurt or something.”

“Nope. I’m okay.”

Sort of a lie. I’m not okay right now. I’m keeping my shit together because that’s what I have to do. A crack of lightning strikes something in the distance, making another loud boom ring out as if something’s exploding. I jump, curling into myself.

And then Theo’s arm comes around me. One muscular arm wraps around my shoulder and pulls me across the bed and to his chest. I don’t flinch and pull away. Presented with this situation before tonight, I definitely would’ve pulled away.

Comfort settles over me, and I’m not sure how I feel about that, finding comfort in Theo. I tell myself it’s because he’s a warm body in the middle of a storm. My eyes close and I lean against his broad chest, feeling the hardness of his muscles underneath his shirt. His callused fingertips lightly run over my arm.

We’re co-workers who are working closely together. Being comfortable around him is a good thing. That’s all this is.

“What would you do if you weren’t a wrestler?” he asks, breaking me from my thoughts. Thankfully.

“Huh?”

“I’m trying to distract you from the storm. Get you talking. What would you do if you weren’t wrestling?”

I want to say that I don’t have a backup plan. Wrestling is the end all, be all for me. I never wanted anything else. But I also knew I had to have something in the back of my mind, just in case. Wasn’t like I could do nothing for the rest of my life if I didn’t make my dreams come true.

“Baking,” I answer. “I’d want to bake. I worked at a local bakery to make ends meet when I was on the indies. I actually like it.”

“I can’t imagine you baking,” Theo snorts. “Were you any good?”

“I like to think so. No one’s ever complained when I’ve baked them something.”

His fingers still idly run down my arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “Bake me something sometime,” Theo commands.

“Maybe.” I leave it at that before turning the question on him. “What about you? What would you be doing?”

His fingers leave my arm. They go up to my hair, letting the strands slip through his fingers. Why am I letting him? Why aren’t I stopping him?

He sighs. “Probably…I don’t know, work with animals? Maybe run an animal rescue or something? Is that a viable option?” Theo pauses before answering his own question. “Probably not, but that’s what I’d want to do.”

His answer takes me by surprise. I was expecting ‘strip club DJ’ or ‘porn star’ not rescuing animals. “Really?” I can’t help but sound a little skeptical.

“I like cats. My parents wanted me to be a vet, but I dropped out of college after two years to pursue wrestling full-time.” His brown eyes are so much softer when he says that, the genuineness coming through. For a moment, I think I catch a glimpse of the man underneath all the bravado.

Or is the bravado all Theo is?

“I bet they’re really happy about that one.”

Theo chuckles. “Eh. Give or take it. They like the fact that I’m successful.” There’s a bitterness in his voice. “Mom wouldn’t talk to me for a few years. Only really started to come around when I won the title. It makes me look successful, and my merch sells better, which means more money.”

Oh.

I want to press a little bit more about that.

Theo doesn’t give me the chance. He’s very good at avoiding things he doesn’t want to linger on. “What about you? Your folks supportive?”

“My dad’s always been,” I tell him. “My mom died when I was six, but I like to imagine that she would’ve been supportive too. That could just be me being hopeful. My stepmom was supportive.”

It’s hard for me to imagine what it would be like to have parents who aren’t supportive of your dreams. When I told my dad I wanted to wrestle, he immediately gave me the money for wrestling school and told me to chase my dreams. Showed up to every shitty indie show that he could.

“Janet?” Theo pushes. “See, I knew you had a stepmom.”

“Janet is not my stepmom. Ruby was my stepmom. She’s also dead.”

He pauses and then laughs. The humor on his gorgeous face as the storm rages outside the hotel is surprisingly beautiful. “Fuck, your dad has the shittiest luck with women. ”

So unabashedly. So pointed. It makes me laugh too, even if it’s morbid. Dark humor is how I’ve survived my life up until this point. “I’m pretty sure my dad made the same joke a time or two.”

“Good man. At least he can laugh about it.”

Could . I want to correct him, but I don’t. Trauma dumping on Theo doesn’t feel like the right call. We’re getting along for the first time. Knowing him, that could change at any moment.

Sometimes, though, I can’t help myself and I ruin moments. Curiosity gets the best of me. What Jules said about Veronica not being the greatest partner has me curious. Maybe I’ve gotten Theo wrong the entire time.

After swallowing, I force the words past my lips as another flash of lightning makes me tense. It feels like an omen for what’s going to be the ultimate mood shift. “Why did you cheat on your ex? So publicly. You had to know that you were going to get caught.”

I feel it—Theo shutting down on me. The laughter is over. The joy vanishes and his brown eyes go dark. “Dunno what to tell you, baby doll. I’m just a selfish piece of shit.”

“Or is that what you want people to think?”

“No. I’m genuinely a piece of shit, Aurora. I get it. You want me to have some tragic backstory and some reason behind being the way I am. Oh, he was bullied in school. Oh, his ex was evil and manipulative and he couldn’t escape. No, I’m not a good guy. Never have been. Never will be. It’s not in my nature. At least I can be honest about it, unlike everyone else in the fucking world.”

I chew on my bottom lip. Looking into his eyes, I can see that Theo is telling the truth, or at least his version of it. It’s in the way he’s looking back at me. What’s better? The monster you know or the pretty lies that most people present?

“You still didn’t answer my question.”

He rolls his eyes. “ You are impossible.” His arm is still wrapped around me, and he pulls me against his side a little closer. “Because I wanted to. Because I was drunk and the other girl was sexy and I wanted to fuck her. Because I was forcing myself to be with Veronica because that’s what everyone expected. I wasn’t happy. I was fucking tired of her bitching all the time. I wasn’t home enough. She needed more from me. More time, more money. More . I got tired of fuckin’ giving.”

It sounds like Veronica was using him. It sounds like his mom uses him. Does anyone give him anything? But pushing for more information feels like a slippery slope with Theo. I worry if I push further, the wall will go up completely.

“At least you’re honest,” I murmur.

He tilts his head as he looks down at me. His fingers lazily run through my hair again, twirling a strand around his index finger as we recline on the bed. Rain is pouring outside, slapping against the window, sounding like machine gun fire.

He’s a wonderful distraction.

“Let me guess, you want a way to justify the monster,” he says, his voice soft. “You want to be able to say, ‘Theo isn’t so bad,’ but that’s the thing—I am. What you see is what you get with me.”

The softness of his voice screams honesty. This is Theo being completely honest with me. It should push me away more, I know that. So, why is this breaking down the walls between the two of us?

Maybe in the end, the truth is all that matters.

A crash of lightning strikes somewhere closer, lighting up the night sky. The loud noise that follows sends me practically on top of Theo. His arms tighten around me even more. I don’t fight it. I close my eyes and bury myself against him, breathing in all the safety and comfort that I can.

He doesn’t make a comment about my body on top of his. Surprisingly. His fingers continue to run through my hair. “Why are you so scared of storms?” Theo asks.

It’s my turn to face the truth. I can either lie to him or be as honest as he was with me. “A year ago, we had this really bad storm back home. I’ve always disliked them, but it was never a fear, you know? Anyway, I was going over to my dad’s. I tried to visit as much as possible after my stepmom died. I didn’t like him being alone. I get there and knock. No answer. I knock again. No answer. There was no reason for him not to answer. Dad always called if something came up. Since the door was unlocked, I let myself in. That’s when I found my dad in the living room. He had a stroke.”

“Is he—”

“He survived,” I answer. My eyes focus on a spot on the hotel wall as I lay my head against his chest. There’s a little chip in the eggshell-colored paint. Not looking at Theo makes this conversation so much easier. “He’s still in rehab. He hasn’t regained his speech.”

“Janet’s his nurse,” Theo murmurs as he puts the pieces together.

“Yeah. Even if he can’t talk, he’s still in there somewhere. I wanted him to see my big moment. I think he liked it,” I laugh softly, clinging to that instead of the sadness that the memory fills me with. “I don’t know, but Janet said that he watched the whole thing. Didn’t even go to bed early.”

It’s not the same, though. I wish he could’ve been able to be there in person. I know Dad. He would’ve been front row, screaming his head off for me, even as the rest of the crowd booed. He’d be my number one fan.

I swallow back emotions so I don’t cry in front of Theo, letting my gaze zone in on that chip in the paint on the wall. I won’t cry. I can’t.