Page 172 of The Night Shift
Theo lets out a short, breathy laugh, shaking his head. It’s a nice sound. A great sound, actually. “I ordered some backup pizza in case things went wrong. But thank you for being so mindful about protecting my feelings.”
His fingers idly play with my earlobe before moving to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. The touch is gentle and absentminded. Like he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it.
Touching me is second nature to Theo.
Being touched by him is starting to become my first.
His fingers twirl a loose tendril of my hair, curling it around his finger, then uncurling it. His eyes are on mine, searching, steady. The whole world feels still.
“How do you do that?”
“Do what?” he asks as he goes on looking at me like I hung the moon. I don’t think anyone has ever looked at me the way Theo does. It feels like I’m lying on the operating table and he’s using my favorite scalpel to slice me open, my darkened soul bare for him to inspect.
It triggers a confusing flurry of emotions in my chest.
“Just…handle everything so calmly. Like it’s nothing.”
His gaze softens. “It’s not nothing.You’renot nothing. I like taking care of you. It makes me happy.”
“I’m glad my suffering makes you happy.”
Theo smiles and presses a firm kiss to my cheek. “I know. I’m the worst.”
I huff out something close to a laugh, resting my forehead against his. His fingers trail down my cheek, brushing lightly against my jaw. Mine curl and uncurl into the fabric of his sweater, holding onto him like he’s the only solid thing keeping me upright. He is. “Theo?”
“Yes, my love?”
“I don’t know what to do anymore.”
Another kiss to the skin under my eye. “Me neither, Hollister,” he murmurs. “But maybe we could figure it out together?”
The words settle over me like a weight and a relief all at once.
Together.
“I told you to stop calling me that,” I say.
He smiles. “What would you like me to call you instead?”
I look at him. Into those impossibly blue eyes, clear and unwavering.
I don’t know who moves first. Maybe I do. Maybe he does. It doesn’t matter.
This kiss isn’t soft or slow. It’s desperate and messy and all-consuming. Theo meets me without hesitation, his hand slidinginto my hair, fingers tangling at the nape of my neck like he’s afraid I’ll pull away. I don’t. Not when his lips taste of warmth and recklessness. A taste that’s slowly becoming my idea of luxury. I press closer, my other hand fisting the fabric of his sweater.
Theo makes a low sound in his throat and deepens the kiss. His fingers tighten in my hair, making me gasp. We keep pressing against each other, closer and closer, until there’s nothing left between us but heat and breath and the faintest tremble in my limbs.
I kiss him harder. Desperation coils tight in my chest, pouring into the way my teeth catch his bottom lip. His mouth brushes over my jaw as I arch into him, inviting him to kiss me everywhere. “This is the last time, I swear.”
I feel his mouth curve against the nape of my neck before he bites down on it.
Chapter 34
Theo
The next morning
Somewhere in Upstate New York
