Page 121 of Caden & Theo
My chest feels too full as I head for the shower, knowing he’ll follow me into this day, into my city, into the life I carved out of ruin. Nervous, yeah. But eager. Because if last night had been another night of reclaiming us, today is about showing him the man I became.
The drive to the Mission District is short. Early enough that the traffic hasn’t stacked yet, the streets still quiet, shops pulling up their security rollers. Theo sits in the passenger seat, watching the city with that wide-eyed attention that makes me remember he hasn’t ever been here. His hand rests on his thigh, which is so close to mine, I can feel the warmth radiating.
When we pull up in front of the studio, I see him take it in. Three stories, glass front, the name stenciled cleanly across the door: North Performance & Rehabilitation. Five years in, and the sign still makes my chest thrum with pride.
“You own this whole building?” Theo asks, voice caught somewhere between impressed and skeptical.
“Not the whole thing,” I admit, cutting the engine. “Top floor’s apartments. First two are mine.”
“That’s still….” He shakes his head, a smile tugging at his mouth. “Jesus, Caden.”
“Come on.”
Inside, the air smells like eucalyptus oil and the faint tang of disinfectant. Early-morning light streams through wide windows, falling across polished floors, racks of equipment, treatment tables. It’s quiet now, before clients arrive, and I love it like this. The calm before the grind.
Theo turns in a slow circle, taking it all in. I can’t stop watching his face.
“You built this,” he says finally, soft with awe.
“Brick by brick,” I answer.
Before he can reply, a voice calls from the reception desk, “Morning, boss.”
Lacey stands, tablet in hand, her dark curls piled on top of her head. Tall, poised, with warm brown skin and a presence that keeps this whole place running, she’s been with me since I opened this location. She’s organized, unflappable, and the reason the studio doesn’t burn down when I’m juggling too much. Her eyes flick to Theo, and for once, I see her actually startled.
“Oh.” She blinks, then recovers fast, offering a polite smile. “And you must be…?”
Theo steps forward, hand out, grin easy. “Theo.”
Lacey takes it, then shoots me a look that’s equal parts curious and amused. She’s never seen me bring anyone here. Never had reason to. I’ve only ever talked about him with my parents.
I clear my throat. “Old… friend. Visiting.”
Her brow quirks, but she doesn’t press. “Well, welcome. If you need anything—coffee, tea, an escape route—let me know.”
Theo chuckles. “Good to know.”
We move past the desk and into the gym space. I head for the mats, start stretching out, and to my surprise, Theo kicks off his shoes and drops down beside me. He mirrors my movements. He’s a little stiffer, but game. The sight makes something sharp and warm twist in my chest.
Soon we’re side by side—push-ups, squats, resistance drills—my morning ritual expanded to include him. His form isn’t perfect, but his determination is, and his gaze keeps catching mine between sets, daring me to push harder. Sweat drips from me, strength humming in my limbs, but this time I’m not just showing him I can thrive. I’m moving with him, the rhythm of us syncing like it hasn’t in years.
By the time I towel off, I hear the door open, followed by “Well, well, if it isn’t our fearless leader actually on time for once.”
I turn to see Peppa breezing in. Dark hair in a high ponytail, leggings in some outrageous pattern, grin wide enough to blind. She’s been with me three years and is irreverent and competent in equal measure. She flirts with me constantly, but it’s never serious. Just part of who she is.
Today, though, her attention snags immediately on Theo.
“And who is this snack?” she demands, striding over and extending a hand. “I’m Peppa. Don’t worry, the name’s real. You can imagine the jokes I’ve heard.”
Theo laughs, shaking her hand. “Theo. And, uh, noted.”
She gives him an exaggerated once-over, then glances at me. “You’ve been holding out on us, boss.”
“Pepp—” I warn, but she waves me off.
“Oh, relax. I never flirt with the clients. Clearly I’ve been saving it all up for this moment.” She winks at Theo, leaning in conspiratorially. “You’re safe, though. My taste runs toward bad decisions, not men who look like they’ve actually got their life together.”
Theo grins, eyes bright with amusement. “Then I guess I’m flattered?”
