Page 27 of Press Play

“Girls!” Mom hollers while taking the stairs. “Enough!”

I snatch my phone off the table, slip on a pair of flip-flops, and dart out the front door.

I don’t know where I’m going; I just can’t be here. My feet take one step and then another as I fight the tears that threaten. A normal parent would text their daughter if she left abruptly after a fight like that, but my mom isn’t normal, and she doesn’tgive a damn about me. If she did, she would have answered the phone when I called.

“I hate her,” I mumble as a tear slips free, and I wrap my arms around myself. “I can’t do this anymore?—”

“Wren?” Mal’s voice brings me to a stop.

I glance to my right and quickly realize where my legs brought me.

“Are you okay?” She closes her car door and approaches me with a soft yet worried expression.

I’m about to lie and say I’m okay, but Malory always breaks down my walls. “I had a fight with my mom.”

With a gentle nod, she reaches for my hand and tilts her head toward the house. “Come inside.”

The moment I walk through the front door, the weight on my shoulders lifts. I glance up the stairs, wondering if Theo is home. I should have texted him, but my body was running faster than my mind.

“He might be taking a nap,” Malory says. “Why don’t you go wake him up? We can make cookies afterward and watch a movie.” My lips curl into a small, forlorn smile, but before I can say anything, she adds, “I have the proper ingredients, so they’ll be gluten-free.” She tousles my hair, and my heart lightens.

“Really?” I ask, my cheeks lifting with my grin.

“Really,” she says with a genuine smile.

“Okay, I’ll go wake him.” I start up the stairs and stop myself before walking right in. “Theo?” I call while knocking. “Are you decent?”

He doesn’t say anything, so I take my chance and crack the door open. His room is dark, but I can make out his figure under the blankets. I tiptoe in and admire him for a moment. Those dark curls are mussed, and his lips form a natural pout.

My stomach twists with nerves, and my heart is fluttering.

It’s been difficult to push aside my feelings, but I’ve been managing. It’s moments like this where my composure wavers. Theo is my best friend. I shouldn’t want more, but I do. Even if I know he’s too good for me—someone who’s always sick and seeking comfort. And I can’t run the risk of admitting my feelings and losing him.

“Theo?” I whisper, sitting beside him. “Wake up.”

He grumbles in his sleep and frowns. “Five more hours.”

I squeeze his shoulder and shake him. “Wake up.”

He grunts and blinks a few times before locking his eyes with mine. “Wren? When did you get here?”

“A few minutes ago?—”

Theo slides his arms around my waist, warm and solid, and pulls me into him. His scent—a mix of soap and something uniquely him—wraps around me, grounding me, and his low hum rumbles against my cheek as I settle into the curve of his neck. It’s such a simple touch, yet my heartbeat thrums, his heat easing the tension in my body, and for a moment, it seems like he’s holding me together.

Just friends.

“Are you okay?” he whispers in my ear, sending chills down my spine.

I nod with a sigh. His touch always makes me feel better. It’s like he knew I needed a hug; it’s like he knows I’m better when he’s around.

“I missed you.” His voice is still groggy from sleep, lower and almost darker. “I’d keep you here forever if I could.”

“And I’d stay if I could,” I admit, noticing my lips are against his neck.

His chest rises and falls with a long exhale, and even though I don’t want to, I let go. “Come on, we’re going to make cookies.”

He sits up and runs his fingers through his hair. “Okay, but only because you’re here.”

---