Page 51 of Fairy Cakes in Winter

Theo sat up and put his hand on my wrist. “Seven years ago. That’s why you moved here.”

“Yeah, that’s part of the reason,” I admitted, sliding my hand through my hair. “He broke up with me and started dating a mutual friend…a woman. I couldn’t…I couldn’t cope.”

“Oh, Scott. That’s…”

“Pathetic,” I finished for him.

“No. I was going to say terrible,” Theo corrected.

“It was. I probably shouldn’t have left the way I did. I pumped up my London opportunity like I was one step removed from working for Gordon Ramsay. I wasn’t. I oversold it so no one back home would worry about me. I didn’t want pity. I didn’t want anyone to know I was in a bad place. A very bad place. I was so depressed I couldn’t get out of bed some days. I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t talk about how I felt either. And…I didn’t want to accidentally out Jack. My family were the only ones who knew about us, and they were safe. They were the only ones he’d felt comfortable with enough to come out to.”

“That’s sad. It is, but…how could he do that to you?”

“Which part?” I cracked a smile. “Leave me or date a friend of mine?”

“Date your friend,” he clarified with a huff. “That’s a low blow. You were together for so long. He should have had the decency to steer clear of mutual complications and—what are you laughing at?”

I scooted closer to his side and hooked an arm around him.

“You.” I kissed his cheek and his ear. “Theo, I’m over it. Seriously. My sister told me she ran into him and his pregnant wife a month ago and honestly, I was a little unsure how I felt. Years ago, he told me he wanted all that with me. It stung. But now…I don’t feel a thing. Not a smidge of hurt or jealousy or…anything. I hope he’s happy.”

Theo’s once-over was thorough as hell. I didn’t know what he was looking for, but I hoped he believed me. I’d hate for him to think I’d waste precious time dwelling on an old lover when I had him here. He was all I could see. The only man I wanted to be with and—

Shit. Okay, that wasn’t helpful. I couldn’t have Theo either.

He set his hand over mine, then lifted my fingers to his lips. “I’m sorry you were hurt. I’m sorry you suffered.”

It was on the tip of my tongue to deny it. I was tougher than that shit. I didn’t need Jack. I didn’t need anyone. I had a great life.

No, things weren’t always easy and yeah, I missed my family like crazy, but I was okay, damn it. I was just fucking fine. I didn’t need him to feel sorry for me. I needed him to think I was strong.

And…that was when it hit me.

Admitting I’d been hurt didn’t make me weak. Just the opposite was true. It freed me.

I reached out and traced his jawline, and sucked in a wobbly breath. “Thank you. I’m better now, Theo. I’m much better now.”

“I’m glad,” he whispered.

He closed his eyes and leaned into me, brushing his lips over mine in a featherlight touch. We lingered there, hovering in unspoken reverence.

Yeah, I know. I sounded like a wannabe poet, but you know what? It felt like a religious experience to see and be seen in all my ugly pieces. All my scars and wounds. The lies I’d told and the truths I’d covered. I’d been walking with armor for years. I’d forgotten what it felt like to put it down and let go.

And let me say, it felt really fucking amazing.

I held Theo’s chin tenderly and crushed my mouth over his.

We kissed passionately, pressing close as we tangled our tongues and let our hands roam. I touched his face, desperate to memorize every feature—the shape of his eyes, the feel of his evening scruff against my beard. But I had to feel, touch, see, have all of him.

I broke the kiss, gasping for oxygen as I pulled him to his feet. “Come.”

I led him to my bedroom, which was nearly twice the size of the one I had in Bath, with exposed beams and bay windows. In the morning, it was flooded with light. In the evening, neon signs and street lamps splashed color across my navy duvet. And if the sky was clear and the moon was full, it illuminated the space like a canvas.

Like tonight.

I undressed him in the moonlight, slipping his T-shirt over his head, kissing a path along his neck as I unbuckled his belt and unzipped his jeans. I slipped my thumb under the elastic of his boxer briefs and curled my fingers around his half-hard cock, stroking him as I licked his collarbone and nipped his shoulder.

When he moaned my name and begged for more, I went down on my knees and swallowed him whole. I didn’t bother with finesse. This was want and need. I wanted to give him pleasure and I needed to express something I wasn’t sure I had words for yet. Gratitude, admiration…yeah, but it was more than that.