Chapter 16

Sweat coats my skin, and it feels like I'm being blasted with a space heater, but as I open my eyes and come face to face with Theo…I realize—it's his body heat. First of all, holy shit, he runs hot. Secondly, what the fuck have I done?

His eyes are closed, and his breathing is heavy, which tells me he's clearly sleeping. Even through my racing heart and shaking hands, I admire the way his thick, black eyelashes caress his cheekbones. His nostrils slightly flaring as he breathes. Full lips pursing, making me want to kiss him all over again.

And oh my God.

That kiss.

It's honestly criminal how good it was. I can't even believe it happened—or that I let it. And that's the biggest problem of all. I should've known better than to get involved to this degree. But I still remember the way his hand tangled in my hair, tilting my face up to his. And his tongue pushing through my lips, tangling with mine. But mostly, I remember the way my body was lit on fire the moment he flipped me onto my back. My hips had a mind of their own—and so did my lips, my hands, all of me. This whole mind-body connection I've always been in control of…poof—freaking gone.

I was no longer in control of my body, my thoughts, or my feelings. I'm still confused because my brain tells me I need to get the hell out of here and never come back. But my heart tells me to stay and admire him some more. Possibly repeat last night for the rest of my life, because even I can admit to myself that I have never felt this way with anyone, and definitely not over a simple kiss.

That's the thing, though; there was nothing simple about it. It was the single most erotic thing I've ever experienced. And now I want to know what it feels like to be under him instead of on top, to give him the reins and let him play me like an instrument. I want him all over me. Lips, tongue, hands, teeth. But I'll probably never know how any of it feels…because I can't do that to him.

So, as much as it pains me, I untangle our limbs and hold my breath, dreading the wait. Hoping his eyelashes flutter open so I can't escape, while also begging whatever superior being that watches over me to please not let him wake up. To my chagrin, he stirs but doesn't wake, and I use that as a sign from the universe that this choice is the right one.

I quietly get up from the ground, my hips screaming in protest, and tiptoe all the way to the living room, where my bag and shoes are. Not even bothering to change or caring that I'm only wearing his oversized T-shirt, I grab my things and slip out of the apartment like a mouse in the night. I don't even know how I managed not to wake him, but now is not the time to overthink.

Once in the car, I look at the time on my phone, which was in my bag thankfully. It's almost noon—which means I have forty-five minutes to make it to my therapy appointment. By some miracle, I brought a change of clothes with me since I was going to spend the night at Cheyenne's…which brings me to now—a million text messages from her littering my inbox.

Chey

Hey, where are you? I thought you were coming over.

Chey

Call me. I'm getting worried.

Chey

Do I need to call the cops?

Chey

Seriously, Bai. Stop playing fucking games.

Chey

What the actual fuck, Bailey? TELL ME WHERE YOU ARE.

Chey

ANSWER ME. NOW.

Chey

That's it, bitch. I'm calling the cops.

I dial her number, my hands shaking, and put her on speaker as I put pants on and get out of this shirt that smells just like Theo. Like a freaking forest.

"You have got to be joking with me right now," Chey mutters after only letting the phone ring twice. "Where are you? I filed a missing person's report."

"You did what?" I screech.

"Yeah, well, I didn't know if Robert took you." My stomach drops at that suggestion, not liking that I'm keeping secrets from her but also not willing to talk about them. "Can you honestly blame me? You have never disappeared on me or not answered the phone. And in the literal fifteen years we've been best friends, you have never ditched me."

"First of all. Please tell the police you found me." I sigh, smoothing my hair down while looking in the mirror. I should've brushed my teeth and maybe washed my face too. Now I have to go see my therapist, looking like the hot mess I am. "And I am so fucking sorry, Chey." Tears prick my eyes, and I let them fall. With a choked-up voice, I continue, "I lost track of time, and I fell asleep and—I was with Theo."

"Ah." She sighs. "That explains a lot."

"What does it explain?"

"That you like him, Bailey." It's not an accusation. She's so matter-of-fact about it that it's scary. Because if she has noticed, then he probably has, too. And I can't have him believing we have a chance. "You should probably tell him."

"After last night…he knows." He more than knows. And I'm the worst person ever to leave him in that room all alone. To wake up without me, wondering what he did wrong. The answer is nothing at all and simultaneously everything. "We kissed."

"Oh my fucking God!" she squeals, and I can just imagine her jumping off her couch to bounce on her feet up and down. "Tell me everything."

I clear my throat, trying to get the lump out of it, to no avail. "It was storming out…and you know how much that scares me. So I laid down on the floor next to his bed while he was showering. But he came out and put all the pillows on the floor for me, along with his blankets. Then stayed, Chey." I sob, "He stayed. And then he kissed me—and it was the most amazing kiss of my entire life."

"And then?"

"Then I left him." Tears fall faster down my face, and I look back at the parking garage elevators. I could go back—it's not too late. I could say I left something in my car. I could make up an excuse. Anything, and he would believe it. "I left him all alone, sleeping."

"What the hell is wrong with you, Bailey Russell?"

"Thomas now," I mutter.

"Don't deflect." She growls. "Not with me. You know fucking better. And let me tell you something, dumbass. That right there was the biggest mistake of your life, and I want you to never forget these words. You will regret this until the day you die. If you never see him again the way I know you plan to do…a part of you will never be whole again. That man is crazy about you. Why are you letting him go? Are you stupid?"

I. Am. So. Stupid.

"Yes, I am. But Cheyenne, I can't give him what he wants." I shake my head, catching my tears and snot with the back of my hand. "What he deserves. He needs more than I can offer him. He doesn't deserve someone who runs away in the morning, who won't be there to catch him."

"He knows that now." Cheyenne scoffs, "Clearly. He's probably broken, Bailey. You're breaking him."

"I can't be the one to put him back together."

"I love you, Bailey." She sighs, "But sometimes you are one dumb bitch. And if he comes to the rink to ask about you? What do I even say? Oh, she's fine. She just doesn't care about you?"

"I care!" I yell out, "That is why I'm doing this."

"Don't involve me, Bai." I can just imagine her shaking her head, pursing her lips. Her stubbornness is so potent I can feel it through the phone. "I won't lie to him."

"You're my best friend," I argue.

"I don't care." She yells, "You should give him a chance, and I won't be the one to get in the way of that. If he wants to go after you, I'll let him."

"Fucking traitor," I mutter, then hang up and toss the phone to the floor on the passenger side of the car. "Give him a chance." I mock, pulling on a new shirt, then out of the parking spot.

I drive fast, so fast I'm surprised I don't get pulled over before arriving at my destination. I take the first parking spot right in front of the clinic, ready to wait a few minutes before going in. I don't enjoy being in a waiting room; it makes me anxious. At least my therapist knows that and lets it slide, so as long as I park here, the receptionist sees my car and checks me in. I walk in right at the time of my appointment, since Katherine is always ready on time.

I started coming to therapy after a month of being in Seattle. I couldn't sleep, couldn't eat, couldn't even get a job. The way I was living my life wasn't what I wanted for myself, and although Cheyenne was being super patient with me, I didn't want that anymore. It's embarrassing to admit that one of the reasons I even got a job was for the health insurance—to pay for this and my anti-depressants.

But here I am, feeling astronomically better than I did seven months ago…even if more confused than ever.

My phone alarm rings, and I hit stop and get out of my car. The gravel crunches under my slippers, and I silently curse, just now realizing I have no other shoes. Oh well, I guess I'm doing the walk of shame all the way into Katherine's office. At least she won't judge me—too much. I bypass the reception desk and go directly to the back, where she is already waiting for me.

"Oh." Katherine frowns. "I'd ask you how you're doing—but you look like you're not well."

"You can say it." I grin at her, loving how friendly she is with me, and how I don't even mind her pointing this out. It's pathetic that she's my only friend besides Cheyenne and Theo. Not that Theo will want anything to do with me after this. "I look like shit."

"You said it, not me." She shrugs. "Sit, please."

I take a seat across from her and get comfortable on the loveseat. "I feel like shit." I sigh, "I did something really bad."

Katherine's eyebrows jump to her hairline. "Are you sure? We're talking about you." I chuckle, not missing her point. I don't take risks. Ever. "Not Cheyenne?"

"Definitely me." I sigh.

"Sooooo," she prompts. "What did you do?"

The thing I love about Katherine is that she's my age—twenty-six—and we have connected deeper than I thought we would. Which is why I don't feel shame when I say, "I stayed over at a guy's house last night, for the first time since Robert." I gulp, and she nods encouragingly. "It's different with him…I—it doesn't matter. I left before he woke up."

She visibly winces. "Ouch, my girl." She laughs, trying to lighten the mood. I'm grateful for it. "Heartless."

"No." I shake my head. "It hurts so bad, Kat." Then the dam breaks, tears bursting from my eyes at high velocity, soaking my cheeks and trailing down my chest. I'm a freaking mess. "I want him."

"So why are you crying?" She frowns. "Why did you leave him?"

"I'm broken." I smile through the tears, feeling that statement in my soul. "I can't even leave my house without being paranoid. With good fucking reason—Robert showed up at my work last week."

"And how did that make you feel, Bailey?"

I chuckle at her shrink question. "Don't shrink me now, Katherine. Of course, I'm freaking the hell out. He was hurting me, and the guy I like—Theo—stepped in. He choked him and called security."

"So the threat is gone." She nods once. "More than likely, he's in jail now. What I want to know more about is this Theo guy."

"He's, uh—Theo Anderson. The hockey player."

"Oh my, my, my." She laughs, clapping her hands together. "Go big or go home, yeah?"

"I guess so," I mutter. "I went so big I fucked him in the bathroom at work."

"Oh, shit," she whispers.

"That can't go in my chart, please."

"Fuck," she mutters. "You know I got you."

"Oh, thank God," I whisper. "Let's just say I couldn't think straight when it happened. He affects me so much. But then we decided to be friends, and I felt fine. Let me let you in on a little secret."

"What?" she asks, zipping her lips closed.

"I don't think it's working out."

She chuckles. "You don't say?"

"Nope." I wipe my tears again. "Because friends don't kiss the way we did last night, and friends definitely don't wake up tangled up with their faces against each other. He's scaring me. I know I can't give him what he needs."

"You can," she affirms. "You're just too scared to."

"He deserves better."

Katherine's face hardens as she sits up taller, smacking her hands on the top of the desk. "You are enough for him. He deserves you."

I sigh, long and loud. "I don't think I can do it."

"Think about a trial phase," she murmurs, and my ears perk up. "Maybe something casual with him—laying down some rules. Do you want just sex?"

"No." I shake my head. "I still want to be his friend."

"What about friends with benefits?"

"That sounds—so high school, Katherine."

"Yeah." She nods. "So what? If it works for you, then it works."

"Except there's nothing casual about fucking a friend," I point out, knowing he'll be hurt in the end. "It'll all be a mess in the end, especially when I cut things off."

"It's a risk you must ask yourself if you're willing to take. Being that I think if you like him, you should give him a chance."

"I do." More tears fall down my face. "He's a great guy."

She stays silent, letting me finish.

"Just not my guy."