A FaceTime request pops up on my computer, distracting me. I squint, trying to make out who it is. But I’m pulled away from my task when Theo grabs the hem of my tank top, whipping it off. I’m wearing a bralette underneath, but he looks at me like I’m naked.
“God, Noelle,” he breathes, pressing an open-mouth kiss to each slope of my breasts.
I run my fingers through his hair, pushing away the thought of whatever call I’m missing, sinking into the wet heat of his mouth.
The ringing starts again.
“What—” Theo looks over his shoulder toward my laptop. “The fuck?”
I lean over, wrapping my arms around his neck so I don’t fall over in my quest to see the screen.
The flashing name douses the flames we’ve been building, and my heart free-falls into my stomach.
“Oh shit, it’s my dad.” My parents have texted during the trip, and I’ve sent pictures regularly, but they’re otherwise hands-off. Two calls in a row could be an emergency.
Theo’s fingers close reflexively around me as I start to get up.
“I need to get it.” I pry his hands off my ass, nearly falling off the bed in my haste to untangle us.
“You need to get it?” he repeats. He’s intensely rumpled, his knees spread, very clearly hard with a swollen cherry mouth and finger-fucked hair.
I’m going to regret this. But I’ll regret it more if it’s an emergency and I ignore it.
“Sorry, I’m just not sure if it’s—” I grab my tank top from the floor, pulling it on. “It’s late and they don’t normally call repeatedly.”
His expression softens with understanding. “All right.”
I sit down at the desk, angling the laptop so the bed isn’t visible. But then I realize having a half-naked man in my room, visible or not, isn’t ideal. Especially when that half-naked man doesn’t know the story I sold to my parents.
“I—they can’t see you. You need to go into the bathroom.”
Theo blinks. “What?”
“Bathroom!” I wave my hands, panicked. The call cuts off, then starts almost immediately again. What the hell is going on? “Please, go. Now. And turn on the overhead fan. Um, in case it’s a private conversation.”
Theo wipes a hand over his face, dazed, but picks up his shirt. His gorgeous back disappears beneath the cotton material as he pulls it on, and my heart beats hard from the warring needs to have him and take this call. He looks at me as he closes the door, expression unreadable. A second later, the fan turns on.
With adrenaline-clumsy hands, I hit accept, stuffing earbuds into my ears.
My jaw drops at the scene greeting me: my family is crowded into the frame, laughing. My parents are seated at some restaurant patio table, Thomas and Sadie behind them.
“Are you joking?” I yelp.
“Beans!” they all yell in various states of drunkenness.
I place my hand over my racing heart. “You’re drunk dialing me? I thought someone died.”
Dad’s face falls, and he mouths sorry, but Mom leans in, oblivious. “How’s our favorite photographer doing? How’s the trip?”
“It—it’s great. It feels really good—I mean, it’s really, um, it’s been educational,” I stammer, staring at the bathroom door. Jesus, I have an aroused Theo Spencer in there and I’m talking to my drunk family? “Listen, I—”
“Educational?” Mom repeats quizzically.
I shake my head. “I just mean I’m learning a lot. About photography and the areas we’re visiting.” And Gram’s long-lost lover, oh, and also his beautiful grandson, who’s about to blow out my back.
“What are your chances of coming out of this with work lined up?” She picks up a tortilla chip, crunching happily.
Oh my god. “Probably pretty good, Mom.”
That part is true, at least. I’ve gotten more DMs from people inquiring about prints, and plenty of video comments raving about my photos. The traffic to my online shop, which I linked to my profile, is growing rapidly. It’s not enough to sustain me, but it’s more than what I had before.
It feels good. It feels right.
I swear a tear comes to Dad’s eye. “I’m not surprised. Mom and I are so proud of how you’ve gotten back on your feet. I know it hasn’t been easy.”
Sticky guilt coats my throat. “Thanks, Dad. It’s been nice getting back into it.”
Thomas turns to Dad, sensing I need a bailout. “Can you and Mom go get another round?”
Dad frowns, confused. “But we’re talking to Noelle—”
“We have some sibling matters to discuss.”
“Love you, honey, see you Friday!” Mom calls around Dad’s shoulder, then tows him out of the frame.
Thomas turns to me, eyes wide. “Oh my god, they would not shut up about calling. They’ve been bombarding me with questions, like I have a clue what you’re up to.” He pauses. “I mean, I do because of TikTok, but I can’t tell them that.”
A panic-inducing thought suddenly bubbles up. “You have to keep them away from TikTok.”
“First of all, no shit. Second of all, you think they’re going to somehow stumble across a video on a social media platform they don’t even know exists?”
“Just please play defense for me, okay?”
“He’s all over it,” Sadie assures me.
“I am, don’t worry,” Thomas agrees. “But the chances of Dad finding out what you’re doing via social media are slim to none, so chill.”
“Right.” I let out a breath, but it doesn’t release the pressure in my chest. I’ve been so busy inside my bubble that I haven’t let myself think of what I’ll have to do when I step out of it. Telling Dad everything sounds as appealing as going home.
“You should show them to him, though,” Thomas says. “After you tell him about this. They’re really good, Beans. It makes me feel closer to Gram watching them.”
“Yeah,” I say, and we share a twin smile shadowed by our sadness. “Me too.”
Sadie leans her cheek against Thomas’s arm. “Are you good over there? Are you getting what you need out of the trip?”
My cheeks flush even hotter than when I was on Theo’s lap minutes ago. “Yeah. I think so.”
Something in my tone must tip Thomas off, because he lets out a honking laugh, effectively killing our tender moment. “You’re fucking Theo Spencer.”
“No.” I cut myself off, because, well, hopefully yes. “I’m—we’re—it’s complicated.”
“So, you’re exorcising your grief by getting railed by Gram’s ex’s grandson?” Thomas nods, impressed. “That’s one way to do it.”
“If that’s true, you deserve it,” Sadie says. “And I want details later.”
I nod my affirmation, then turn back to my brother. “I’m not exorcising my grief that way, you dickhead.”
“It’s a perk, though,” Thomas says with a smirk.
“If you hadn’t called, it would be,” I mutter.
Thomas blinks as Sadie hops excitedly in place. “Okay, well. TMI, but on that note, we’ll let you go. I just have one request.”