Page 95 of Twisted Shot
“Janet Eagan-Tilbury,” the woman says, offering a perfectly manicured hand. “And you are?”
Mila smiles tightly. “Mila Anderson, event organizer.”
Janet’s brows lift. “Ah. And how do you know Conrad?”
“Oh,” Mila replies, her smile sharpening, “I don’t. I know your other son. The one everyone wants to celebrate.”
There’s the briefest flicker across Janet’s face, a momentarycrack in her composure that vanishes almost as quickly as it appears. “Of course. Theodore.”
There’s something cool in her tone, just enough to make Mila want to claw at it.
Janet offers a polite smile. “He was always…sensitive.”
“He’s remarkable,” Mila says, tilting her head. “Not just on the ice, but in every way that matters.”
Janet’s gaze softens by a fraction, her fingers adjusting the drape of her shawl. “I do wish I saw more of him. He avoids me, I’m afraid.”
“Perhaps he shows up for the people who see him,” Mila replies sweetly.
Janet’s mouth flattens.
Mila steps back with a gracious nod. “Enjoy the gala.”
She turns and walks away, pulse thrumming. She doesn’t look back.
The only thing running through her mind is how much better Theo is than the family that raised him.
And it’s about damn time someone said it out loud.
Her dress swishes as she walks, but she doesn’t slow down. She needs to find him. Needs to put her hands on him. Needs to make sure he’s okay, not just physically, but truly okay, because she knows Theo holds onto things in silence. He tucks his hurt under his ribs and lets it calcify.
She moves fast, weaving through glittering gowns and tuxedo jackets. As she scans the crowd, her eyes flit to the coat check. Maybe he ducked in there to breathe.
She changes course, heels whispering on the carpet, heart thumping harder the closer she gets—only to pause when she hears a soft thud and a startled yelp from inside.
The door swings open.
Naomi tumbles out, visibly flustered, tugging the neckline of her dress back into place and smoothing her sleek ponytail. Right behind her, Tall emerges, all six-foot-something of him, with wild curls, tattoos peeking out from under his dress shirt, and the dazed grin of a man who’s just had his world rocked.
They clock Mila at the same time and freeze.
Naomi looks like she might actually vomit. Tall scratches the back of his neck and mutters something before veering off in the opposite direction.
Mila’s jaw slackens.
Those two?
Naomi, the pint-size firecracker who can reduce a grown man to dust with a look, and Tall, who once wore pajama pants to a team meeting because “they spoke to him”? What in the world could they possibly talk about? Ornottalk about?
Mila blinks, stunned. Mentally bookmarks it underAbsolutely Need to Revisit Later.
But right now—Theo. There’s only Theo.
CHAPTER 35
THEO
Theo waits in Mila’s hotel room like he’s standing on the edge of a cliff, heart hammering in his chest, nerves tangled up with something dangerous—hope.
