Page 141 of Press Play

“I went to see my mom.” Theo brings my attention back to him. “I just. . .” He looks down before meeting my gaze again. “I needed her to set me straight. My brain was being, well, kind of a bitch.”

“Did it help?” I take his hand.

“I think so.” His voice is low, barely a whisper. “But I don’t want you to think you weren’t helping me. I just needed her?—”

“Tough love?” I ask with a slight laugh.

Those brown eyes sparkle when he cracks a smile. “Exactly.”

“I’m not upset.” I brush my knuckles over his cheek.

I’m glad Theo’s mom is there for him. He needs someone to rely on, someone he can go to when he needs wise advice. I can only do so much, and I certainly don’t have the wisdom she has.

“I’m sorry?—”

I shake my head. “Don’t be.”

He doesn’t have to say it. I know what’s going through his head.

Wren doesn’t have a mom to run to. I shouldn’t shove it in her face.

But I’ve been over this before, and I’ve come to accept that I never truly had a mother. It’s hard to mourn something you never had—someone who was never there.

“You need her just as much as she needs you,” I tell him as he presses his forehead to mine. “And there’s nothing wrong with that.”

The only sound between us is our breathing, and for the first time in days, the tension in my shoulders disappears. It’s over, and the only thing that’s left is us. We don’t have to worry anymore. . .

Except for the fact that you posted a sex tape with your boyfriend.

“Theo,” I murmur, my voice shaky. “The video. . . have you looked?”

“No.” His voice is smooth and comforting. “But I can if you want.”

I close my eyes and breathe out. Theo’s videos perform well. So I have no doubt it has views—and comments. Most people talk about his performance and how they wish it were them. Sometimes, they talk about the women and how beautiful they are. I can imagine what they may be saying about me, and after today, I don’t have the energy to face it.

I choose blissful ignorance.

“Not yet.” I force a smile. “I just want to be with you.”

“Sounds like heaven,” Theo whispers, brushing his nose over mine before he kisses me. “Let’s go, mi amor.”

Theo takes me to our room, and a soft smile spreads across my face. When did it become our room and not his? Was it when I crawled into his bed after I couldn’t sleep? When he asked me to stay and not go back to my old apartment? Or was it more recently—when we made the video and whispered how much welove each other on camera? I wish I could say I knew for sure, but what I know is that my home isn’t a place or room—it’s Theo.

It was always him.

The air is chilly, and the sheets are cool. With a relaxed sigh, I flip onto my side and inch closer to Theo. Normally, he sleeps on his side with his arm draped over my waist. He’s not a back sleeper, so when I bump into his arm, I can’t help but take a peek.

“What are you doing?” I ask, my voice thick with sleep.

His eyebrows shoot up while he stares at his phone. “Who is this woman? And why is she sostunning?”

My own brows knit together. “What are you talking about?”

“What I’d give to be her,” he says.

My confusion intensifies. I press my elbow into the mattress and glare at him in the dark. “Are you sleep scrolling? Who do you want to be?”

He tilts his head, and those dark eyes bore into mine. “Theo, I’ve been a fan since the beginning. This is the best and hottest video you’ve ever posted.”

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