Page 115 of Fake Out Hearts

He kisses me, a deep, lingering kiss that seems to go on forever. When we finally break apart, be helps me climb down off the sink and get my clothes back on. Once I’m put back together, he pulls his own pants up and offers me a hand.

“Better?” he asks, studying my face carefully.

“Yeah.”

“You don’t have to see her if you don’t want. You can hang out in your room until I get rid of her.”

“No, it’s okay.” I give him a little smile, squeezing his hand. “I’ll go with you. We’re in this together, right?”

Warmth gleams in his eyes, and he cups my cheek with his free hand, pressing his lips to mine again. It’s soft and tender this time, but it rocks me just as hard as our last kiss. Because there are so many unspoken words contained inside it.

“Together,” he murmurs.

His palm is reassuringly warm against mine as I link my fingers with his and follow him out of the bathroom to face Valerie.

Chapter 35

Becca

Valerie is waiting on the couch in the living room when we enter, and when she spots my hand in Theo’s, I don’t miss the flash of jealousy that passes on her face as we pass. Theo sits down across from her, never taking his hand out of mine, so I join him.

“What do you want?” he asks her point blank.

“I came to get my motorcycle,” she says.

Theo’s eyebrows shoot up. “Are you serious? You let yourself into my house for that?”

“I’m one hundred percent serious.” She waves a hand airily. “It’s been in your garage ever since we split, and now I need it back.”

“Well, you can’t just come into my fucking house, Valerie. We’re not together anymore. And in case you missed the news, I’m with someone.”

Her gaze flits to me and then back to him, her lips pressing into a line. “Yeah, I noticed. I’m sorry to interrupt you and whatever puck bunny you brought home today, but—”

“She’s not a puck bunny.” Theo’s voice hardens, taking on an edge that makes Valerie’s jaw snap shut. “Becca is my wife. So I’d think very carefully before you say another word about her.”

Genuine surprise flashes across Valerie’s face, and she looks back at me, her gaze lingering longer this time. When she shifts her focus back to Theo, she seems a bit subdued.

“I’m… I didn’t know. I’ve been travelling overseas for months and haven’t kept up with the news. I had no idea you were even seeing anyone, let alone that you’d gotten married.”

Theo wraps an arm around my shoulder possessively. “Well, we did. Now, if all you want is your bike, you can get it and leave.” He glances down at me, his lips curving into the smile that always makes my heart beat faster. “I’ve got big plans for my wife today, and we were just getting started when you interrupted us. So we don’t have a lot of time to spare.”

“Right.” Valerie clears her throat, looking like she ate something sour. “Can you get it out of the garage for me?”

“If it gets you out of here faster, of course.” He shrugs and stands. Before he leaves, he leans over to murmur in my ear, “Will you be okay alone with her for a second?”

“We’ll be fine,” I say, trying to infuse my voice with confidence.

He kisses my forehead and leaves the condo for the garage. I vaguely remember seeing a motorcycle in one corner of it, but I had no idea it was his ex-wife’s. I did notice that it was set far out of the way, mostly hidden by a stack of boxes. Theo probably made sure it wasn’t visible because he didn’t want to be reminded of it or her.

“Congrats on the wedding,” Valerie says, flashing me a somewhat strained smile once it’s just the two of us. “You’re lucky. Theo is a great guy.”

She’s right, but there’s something about the way she says it that gets under my skin. I don’t know what she’s trying to imply, but I don’t like it. And I decide I don’t particularly like her either.

“Yeah, he is,” I say simply.

Milo appears at the top of the loft stairs, and when he spots a new person in the house, he comes bounding down to sniff her. But unlike Theo’s parents, our dog seems on the fence about Valerie. I can’t say I blame him.

She holds a hand out gingerly for him to sniff, and she smiles.

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