Page 58 of Press Play

I grab my phone and groan when I see it’s only 9:00 a.m.

“Why?” I whine while flipping onto my side.

I was never a morning person, and people who are make me question their sanity. For example, Mom thrived when the sun rose, but if you had the audacity to still be asleep when she was awake, you were the asshole.

Apparently, cleaning can be loud, and she made it her mission to tidy up while making as much noise as possible. To this day, I still wonder how she made dusting so rampageous. Not wanting to take a trip down memory lane, I direct my attention to taking a shower.

With a pair of navy lounge pants and a white tee, I opt out of a bra since Theo will be indisposed for the majority of the day anyway. The tiles are cold when I step over the threshold, and I shiver slightly. Turning the nozzle, I set the water’s temperature to a comfortable heat and take my clothes off. Most of my time in the shower involves thinking, and as I wash my hair, one thought runs on a loop through my mind.

It’s been a little over a week since I moved in, and within that short amount of time, Theo and I managed to flip the switch in our friendship. We’ve shared many things over the years, memories, laughter, and tears, but we never crossed the romantic boundary until yesterday. It shouldn’t feel this normal. Kissing him was like second nature, and a weight settled in my belly because I feared I was the only one who felt it.

Then, the logical part of my brain kicks in, and I remember that he kissed me first. He was the one who laid himself on top of me and caved. I held strong for years, never believing we could be more because I’m me, and he’s him. Yet, here we are, and I allow myself to be giddy until I remember the woman stealing it from me.

Amanda came back, and she wants to record with Theo. Why would he decline? What was their argument about? And why did he look so upset after their conversation?

With my head in the clouds, I finish cleaning myself and brushing my teeth. Turning the water off, I step out and work on drying my body with a large towel. The scent of laundry detergent envelops me, eliciting a sense of home. Growing up, I always felt the need to be home, but the home I lived in wasn’t mine. It’s a confusing concept, but I’m starting to understand now because I feel at home with Theo. He is and will always be my rock, stability, myhome.

A series of taps sounds from the front door, and I furrow my brow. I drop my brush, and scramble to the front door. I tripover my own two feet when I pass Theo’s room, but thankfully, I don’t fall flat on my face.

Slowing my pace, I gather my breath and open the front door. “What the?—?”

Someone left a couple large boxes outside in the hall. I didn’t order anything, and if Theo did, the contents are probably expensive. It’ll most likely be safe to leave it outside, but I don’t know. . .

“Okay, how am I going to do this?” I walk around the first box, eyeing it up with a tilt of my head.

With a few steps back, I stretch my arms, and with a determined exhale, I go for it. I bend my knees and wrap my fingers around the edges while mentally preparing myself.

“On the count of three. One, two, three—” As I heave upward, the box remains rooted to the ground, refusing to budge. “Shit.”

I glance back into the penthouse and contemplate letting Theo know, but if I do that, it’s possible he’s already—well, I can’t do that.

I could always push the box. Yeah, that could work. Maybe if I had a running start?—

“Ms. Wren?”

With a jump, my hand flies to my chest at the voice. “Robbie, you scared me,” I laugh.

“My apologies,” he chuckles while approaching me. “What are you doing?”

He must be headed to the gym. The sleeveless shirt is a dead giveaway.

“Trying not to pull a muscle,” I say with a smile.

“Where’s Theo?” he asks with an arched brow.

“Uhh—”

He raises his hands and says, “Say no more. I would be honored to assist.”

Does he know what Theo does? There’s a chance. They seem to be decent friends.

“Thank you. I appreciate it.”

Not needing my help, he deadlifts the first box and places it in the living room. He makes it look like the boxes are weightless, and I purse my lips when he places the final one down without a sweat.

“There you go, my lady.” He brushes his hands off and beams that flawless smile toward me.

“I really can’t thank you enough. You’re a lifesaver.”

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