Page 20 of Press Play

“Theodore Torres,” she snaps at me, but there’s no bite to her words.

“What? I’m just saying?—”

She places her finger on my lips to stop me. I smile against it and hold my hands up in defeat. “Meet me in the living room when you’re done,” I say while backpedaling.

“No peeking.” She points at me, and a mischievous gleam spreads across my face. “Theo,” she says in warning.

“I won’t look!”

“You better not,” she calls as I approach my dresser.

“I’ll be good. . .maybe,” I mutter that last part with a smirk.

The shower turns on, and the sound of running water hitting the tile is like music to my ears. I walk past my bed and stop at the bathroom entryway.

Her laugh fills the room when she notices my eyes are closed.

“For you.” I offer her the black tee and gray cotton pajama pants.

“Thank you,” she chuckles.

“My lady.” I bow and take my leave, stumbling backward and eliciting another laugh from my best friend. “I’ll order some food!” I manage to say before she closes the door.

“All the food!”

As I step into the living room, I grab my phone and start browsing for takeout options. It’s not long before the bedroom door opens, and Wren steps out, her damp hair falling loosely over the oversized shirt.

She looks . . . comfortable.

At home.

“All the food, right?” I ask, waving my phone at her, trying to keep the mood light.

She rolls her eyes but smiles. “You know me too well.”

I chuckle, then glance back down at the screen. “So... Thai or pizza? I mean, I could order both. It’s a special occasion—my best friend moving in and all.”

She snorts, plopping down onto the couch with her blanket. “Oh, so I’m a special occasion now? I’m honored.”

I settle beside her, the tension from earlier completely washes away by her laughter and easygoing attitude. “You’ve always been a special occasion,” I say quietly, more seriously than I meant to.

Wren turns to look at me, her smile softening as she meets my gaze. There’s a beat of silence, the air between us charged with something unspoken.

“I’m glad I’m here,” she finally says, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Me too,” I reply, warmth blooming in my chest. “You belong here, Wren.”

She doesn’t say anything for a moment. She simply looks at me. Then, with a small smile, she pulls the blanket over her lap and leans back into the couch.

“Well, if I belong here, then you better order pizzaandThai,” she says, her playful tone back.

I laugh, shaking my head. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love it.”

I grin as I tap the order into my phone. “Yeah,” I say softly, glancing over at her. “Yeah, I do.”

As I hit the final button on the order, her natural scent blankets me, and I realize that, for the first time in a while, everything is exactly as it should be. Wren’s here. With me. And I’m going to do everything I can to keep it that way.

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