You, With a View(72)

It’s hard to remember that this isn’t home.

I pull Theo down until most of his weight is on me, wrapping my arms around his neck. He burrows his face against my throat, pressing whisper-soft kisses there. His back moves up and down in a long sigh, and I echo the movement until we’re breathing in sync.

A knock breaks the peace between us. Theo’s head pops up, a dark wave of hair cresting over his forehead, his eyes flying to the door.

Paul’s voice calls out, “Hate to bother you, but I just put a fresh pot of coffee out and cut up some fruit. Shall I make some eggs?”

I don’t answer immediately, panicked, and Theo presses his hips into mine. “Your room,” he mouths, graciously omitting the very deserved dipshit.

“Oh!” I squeak out, pinching his ass when he starts laughing silently. “Um, yeah, that’d be amazing. I’ll be out in just a few minutes.”

Theo frowns, pressing his hips forward again, sharing his ambitious erection. “Fifteen, minimum,” he whispers.

“Two minutes, tops,” I call, shooting him a triumphant grin even though my body is screaming for his again.

“That sounds fine, sweetheart, don’t rush,” Paul says.

“You’re gonna get it later,” Theo whispers against my ear.

“Oh,” Paul continues, the smile clear in his voice, “and don’t worry, Teddy. I’ll make your eggs over easy the way you like them.”



* * *





So, the cat is out of the bag.

When Theo asks how long he’s known, Paul gives him a look over his readers and says, “Since the beginning. You’ve been downright cheerful.”

I nearly choke on a slice of pineapple. Paul gives me a wink.

Theo’s gaze moves to me, as if he’s gauging what I think of that. But I want to know what he thinks before I determine whether I should worry. It’s been a little over a week since that night in Vegas when I said we couldn’t hook up. When I was sure whatever happened between us would ruin my chances to form a relationship with Paul. I thought the foundation of what Theo and I would create together would be too shaky. Maybe I thought the foundation of what Paul and I had was, too. But my relationships with both of them, separate from each other and intertwined, feel strong enough to take this, even if it doesn’t last.

I lift a shoulder, like, what can you do? Theo’s mouth pulls into a quiet smile, and he ducks his head, focusing on his eggs with his bottom lip caught between his teeth.

For his part, Paul seems unfazed, serenely crunching on multigrain toast while he reads the newspaper.

There’s no earth shifting. No avalanche of questions or concerned looks now that my relationship with Theo is out in the open. It gives me hope that maybe with time, all of my secrets will be revealed with this level of acceptance.

After breakfast, we go our separate ways to get ready for the day. But Theo corners me outside my door, giving me a long, lingering kiss.

“Gosh, you really are cheerful,” I say smugly. “I wonder why that is.”

“You knew why that was last night when I had your legs hooked over my arms,” he murmurs back, pressing his hips into mine. One corner of his mouth pulls into a lopsided grin. “You liked that, huh?”

“I’d ask you the same question, but you barely lasted two minutes, so clearly you did.”

He tsks. “Don’t discount all the minutes before that. Besides, you’d already come. At that point, you were just along for the ride. Literally.”

I grip the hair at the nape of his neck, just to watch his expression slacken with desire. “My point is, who knew all it took was regular sex to turn that perma-frown upside down?”

“That’s not all it’s taking, Shepard.”

The timbre of his voice is so low I barely hear it. But the look on his face tells me I didn’t mishear him.

“I’m feeling pretty cheerful, too,” I admit. Our gazes lock and hold, and the warmth in his spirals down my spine.

It’s not just the sex for me either, even though that part is the best I’ve ever had. It’s all of it. I’ve never been less able to distinguish the emotional connection from the physical one. With Theo, one thing feeds the other. The sex is so good because the emotional connection gets stronger every day. The more he shares with me, the more I want him, and the more he touches me, the more secrets I want to reveal.

The truth is, I want him to know everything. Not just about what my life has been like, but what I want it to be. The hopes I have for it. When we get back on Friday, I’ll be walking back into the life I left behind. But I’m realizing that I’m not only prepared to do something different, I want to.

Is it possible he wants to be part of that?

“Are you okay with Paul knowing?” I ask, testing him.

“Are you?”

“I think so. He didn’t look like he was about to plan our wedding or anything.” Theo’s eyebrows raise, and panicked, I rush on. “There’s no wedding, obviously. I just mean, it seemed like he had expectations from the start, and he isn’t making a big deal out of them coming to pass. Why are you smiling like that?”

He’s all perfect, shiny teeth. “I love seeing you flustered because you think you said something too revealing. Like you have a binder full of wedding shit with a picture of my face pasted on every page.”