Page 60 of Caden & Theo
I roll my eyes. “He’s got games pretty much all the time. Even if I wanted to, which I don’t, he’s swamped.”
Jordan arches a brow. “Uh-huh. Just checking. You talk about him like he’s a second major.”
“I’ve told you,” I say, trying to keep it light, “we’ve been friends forever. That’s all.”
They hold my gaze a beat longer, but thankfully they let it go. “Sure, Theo. You know you don’t have to play it cool with us, right? If you were into someone?—”
“I’m not,” I cut in gently. “I’ve got school, field hours, barely enough time to breathe. Dating’s not exactly high on the priority list right now.”
Jordan sips their drink, then shrugs. “Fair enough. Just don’t forget to make space for fun.”
“Fun I can do,” I say, raising my glass.
They tap theirs against mine. “To fun, distractions, and dancing like nobody’s filming.”
The DJ shifts into a remix of Beyoncé, and the dance floor pulses like a heartbeat. I let myself get pulled toward it, laughter bubbling up before I can stop it. Because tonight, I’m Theo. Just Theo.
The floor is packed. Sweat-slick bodies sway under the strobes, and the bass rumbles through the soles of my shoes. Someone’s blowing bubbles from a wand near the DJ booth—tiny, glimmering orbs catching in the lights before they pop midair. It’s all so ridiculously joyful, and for the first time in weeks, I let my muscles relax. I let go of the weight I’ve been carrying. Spring midterms, my field hours, the constant ache of wanting more time with Caden.
Jordan loops their arm through mine, pulling me into the middle of our group. There’s Tiff, their partner, Jules, and Kiera—whose boyfriend, Caleb, is already spinning her in lazy, half-drunken circles like they’re in a club scene from a teen movie. It’s messy and affectionate and pure serotonin. I grin, my head light, the vodka still warm in my blood.
We dance, laugh, shout lyrics to songs we only half know. When the beat shifts to something with a filthy synth line and a driving tempo, I throw my arms up and let my hips follow the music. For a second, I’m not a student or a boyfriend or the guy keeping a secret. I’m just a body in motion. Happy.
And then I feel someone slide into the space beside me.
“Hey.” The word’s said close to my ear but low enough to not feel invasive.
I glance sideways and find Elias there.
Of course.
Tall, confident, and handsome in that “absolutely knows it” kind of way. His cheekbones catch the blue light like glass,and his shirt is unbuttoned just enough to be suggestive. I’ve met him twice before—once at Jordan’s birthday and another time at a game night they hosted. He’s always been flirty. Last time, after a few drinks, he asked if I wanted to grab dinner sometime. I’d said no, gently. He’d taken it with a shrug and a smile, no pressure. Still, I didn’t expect to see him again so soon. Definitely didn’t expect him to move into my orbit tonight.
“Elias,” I say, raising my voice to be heard. “Didn’t know you were coming.”
“Jordan mentioned everyone was here,” he replies, his smile easy and not overplayed. “Figured I’d come dance.”
His eyes flick over my face, checking in, not pressing. I appreciate that more than I can say. Some people flirt like they’re owed something. Elias? He flirts like it’s a conversation you can step into—or out of—without consequence.
“Looks like you needed this,” he adds, nodding toward the floor.
“Yeah,” I say, breathless. “Kinda did.”
We keep dancing. He doesn’t push closer. Doesn’t grab my waist or try to steer my hips. He just dances next to me, his smile bright and his energy infectious. It’s… nice. Nice enough that I don’t realize how long we’ve been out here until my shirt is sticking to my chest and I’m blinking sweat from my eyes.
I lean in, raising my voice again. “I need water.”
Elias nods. “I’ll come with. Hydration solidarity.”
We head off the floor, weaving through the crowd until we reach the bar. The air is slightly cooler here, the fans overhead doing their best.
He leans on the bar while I flag down the bartender. I glance over at him, and he’s looking at me again—not in that casual way people do when they’re just making conversation.
“You know,” he says slowly, “I still think dinner would be fun.”
I pause. And yeah, it’s tempting—for a fraction of a second. Someone this attractive wanting my attention? It’s flattering as hell. Especially with how quiet things have been with Caden lately. Busy schedules. Missed calls. Me, jacking off to the sound of his voicemail. It’s not exactly glamorous.
But I know where my heart is.
