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Chapter Twenty-Three

AURORA

“ C an you stop fake gagging every time you look at my coffee?”

Last night was wonderful. This morning, Theo is back to being Theo. I’m not sure if that’s a blessing or a curse.

“That is not coffee, Roo,” he shoots back, looking over at me. He has one hand on the steering wheel of his rental, the other resting on his thigh. “That’s sugar. You’re not drinking caffeine; you’re getting a goddamn sugar high.”

I roll my eyes. He’s been bitching about my coffee order since we picked it up this morning. “You are a delight in the morning, Theo.”

I should be thankful that he’s hyper-focusing on my coffee instead of not shutting up about my outfit. That was the running commentary until we got coffee. I suppose it’s my fault, though.

Since this was sprung on me last minute, and Theo seems picky about my appearance, I didn’t want to repeat the dress I wore last night or ask him to buy something else. Instead, I grabbed one of his merch shirts, cut it into a crop top, and paired it with denim shorts .

‘My face looks good on your tits.’ Those were the first words out of his mouth after I got ready this morning. So, Theo is obviously in prime Theo mode.

“It’s early. I slept like shit. You take up the whole goddamn bed, by the way,” he defends himself. He reaches for his coffee, a hazelnut Americano—black. “I have to go deal with fans who likely smell and are going to pay money to meet me just to try and talk shit.” Another sip of his coffee. “At least you wearing my merch is a highlight of my day.”

I roll my eyes—again. “Why do you agree to do the conventions if you hate them so much?”

“Money,” he answers.

I don’t believe him. I saw something on his face. It was there for a brief moment. Not long enough for me to truly figure it out, but it was there.

I think Theo loves this—the attention, but more than that, the fans. Jules said he takes wrestling very seriously, and underneath his jagged edges, I think he enjoys what he does. Even when that includes fan interactions.

Pointing that out will result in one of those annoying rants about how he’s definitely just an asshole who doesn’t like people.

“Whatever you say.”

We fall silent again. Spending this time with Theo isn’t nearly as grating as I thought it would be. I was dreading today before last night. He was…nice. He actually cuddled me without trying to feel me up. There was that one moment last night.

He called me beautiful, and the look on his face was so goddamn genuine. A part of me wanted to kiss him. More than I had when our eyes locked in the ring. I’m still chalking all of these uncomfortable Theodore-related feelings up to needing a night with a vibrator and investing more time in my love life. Thinking about what these feelings mean beyond that is terrifying.

We pull into the parking garage of the convention center and Theo kills the engine before we get out and fall into step together. He eyes my coffee and once again fakes a gag. I groan, rolling my eyes. “Fucking Christ. You are impossible . ”

He grins over at me, a boyish light to his brown eyes and he elbows me in the ribs. “Admit it, you’re starting to love me.

There is no way in hell I’m admitting to that—because I don’t love him. Definitely not. I side-eye him as we walk. “Love is a very strong word, Abrams,” I say as he opens the door for me. I step through and wait for him to rejoin my side. “I would be sad if you died, though, so I think that’s a good start.” I smile over at him.

He raises an eyebrow before lazily wrapping his arm around my waist as we walk. I don’t fight him on it. “Wanna know a secret?” he asks, leaning down to speak against the side of my head as if we’re not the only ones currently in the back hallway of the convention center. “I’d be sad if you died too, baby doll.”

I think that’s progress for the two of us. I offer him my cup of coffee. “At least try some.”

Theo eyes it as if I’m offering him piss in a cup, but then his hand wraps around it. He takes it, makes sure his lips can hover over the spot that mine had just touched, and sips from it. His eyes lock onto mine and I never knew that drinking coffee could look so seductive. His nose wrinkles as he hands it back to me. “It tastes like a burnt marshmallow.”

“I know; that’s the appeal.” I grin. Looking up at him, I raise an eyebrow. “You have some of my lip gloss on your lips.”

When I reach up to wipe it from his lips, Theo grabs my wrist and stops me. “Leave it.” He smirks as he swipes his tongue over his bottom lip.

My pussy clenches. Fucking stop, Aurora. Fucking stop thinking of Theo like that. It’s exactly what he wants. I swallow and try to ignore it, needing to focus on something else right now. Anything but my unrelenting desire to fuck him. Reaching into my pocket, I grab my phone so I can make a quick call to check on my dad .

Theo stops me. “Hold on. Let’s get set up at the table first, baby doll,” he says, guiding me into the open floor ballroom where there’s a line of tables along the back wall for the guests to sign at. “You can make your phone call later.”

I didn’t get a chance to make that phone call like I planned. The convention starts and then we’re thrown into signing. I’ll call and check on Dad at lunch. It’ll be fine.

People have more of an interest in Theo than they do me, and I get it. He’s the champion, the big star. His title belt is lazily draped over his shoulder as he signs autographs, looking as disinterested as possible. People expect that from him.

I won’t say I love being an afterthought. I don’t let it show on my face. Instead, I look at Theo like he puts the stars in the sky. All starry-eyed and schoolgirl because that’s my character. I worship the ground he walks on. While most wrestling fans understand how much of it is just character work, they don’t care about Aurora Bennet, the girl who likes to bake and watch home renovation shows and whose favorite color is sunshine yellow. They care about Aurora Dawn, the character.

That’s what I give them. Keepin’ it kayfabe.

I have my chin resting in my palm, when a mother ushers a little boy—I swear this kid is no older than four or five—up to the table toward Theo. My body tenses as I prepare for the shitstorm that’s about to unfurl.

Nathan gave me a rundown of Theo’s last convention, where he caught shit for being rude to a kid and defended himself by saying that the kid deserved it. My real job is to run interference and play the role of Theo’s handler. No more bad PR this year.

“Hi,” the kid says shyly. He won’t look up at Theo, his sandy blond hair falling across his forehead, obscuring his eyes slightly .

“Hi,” Theo responds and then waits.

The mom puts a hand on the kid's back, giving him another little shove forward. “Jacob, tell him what you wanted to say,” she urges.

Theo raises an expectant eyebrow, waiting, although I can’t say patiently. He taps his fingers against the table, keeping that bored, aloof expression on his face.

Jacob clears his throat. He still can’t look Theo in the eyes, keeping them on the plastic grey tablecloth. “I—I’m gonna be a wrestler one day, and then…then I’m gonna fight you for the championship.”

I suck in a breath as a faint flicker of amusement dances along Theo’s face. “Yeah? You gonna kick my ass someday, kid?”

Jacob’s mother doesn’t even seem bothered by the language as Jacob tentatively looks up at Theo. He nods in a slow, almost frightened motion.

There is nothing gentle about Theodore Abrams. He’s not a soft man who hides underneath the guise of a professional wrestler. He is hard edges and broken glass. You touch him and you will get hurt. He doesn’t sugarcoat his words. He doesn’t lessen himself to make people more comfortable.

In a way, I feel like we could all benefit from having a bit more of a toned-down version of him inside of us.

Not like I’d say that to his face.

When Jacob’s eyes meet his, Theo flashes him the barest hint of a smile. There one second, gone the next. “Get tough then,” he says. “I ain’t going down without a fight.” He stands up and puts the GRW championship belt on the table and taps his finger against it. “Touch it, kid. Closest you’re ever gonna get to touching real gold.”

Jacob reaches out and touches it gently, eyes going wide as his mom snaps a few pictures. Theo scribbles his signature on an action figure before his gaze lands on Jacob’s mom. “If you ever lose the kid, gimme a call,” he says with the most obnoxious wink.

I’ve done really well at minding my facial expressions this entire time, but that ? That causes me to roll my eyes, and Theo notices. Of course, he does. It feels like he’s always watching me.

As Jacob and his mom walk away, Theo leans back in the metal chair and kicks his feet up on the table. “Jealous, baby doll?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Mm. That felt a lot like jealousy. Don’t worry, Roo. You’re always my first choice, but hey, until you finally give in, a man’s gotta get his needs met.” He smirks, lazily dropping his hand down onto my bare thigh.

His hands are rough and calloused and send a shot of desire straight to my core. Heat creeps to my cheeks, and I want to run, but Theo’s grip tightens on my thigh. He doesn’t move it higher but a part of me wants him to. Even in a room full of people, I want his fingers to slip underneath my shorts and sink into— fuck .

I’m totally fucked, aren’t I?