Page 32 of Twisted Shot
Jesse salutes her with a flourish. “No phones. No regrets. No pants!” He strikes a pose that lifts his overalls a little too high on one side.
He spins toward Mila, beaming. “Yo, how’d it go today? I bet you crushed it. Big boss energy, for realsies.”
“We’re supposed to hear by the end of next week,” Mila says, the words coming out crisp and business-like, but Theo catches the tension behind them. The tight hold she has on her wine glass. “Jim said they’d vote internally Monday. Legal would follow up.”
“Bro. If you get this gig? So iconic. Think of how awesome it would be if you’re running our marketing. I’m thinking theme nights. Matching game day outfits.”
Theo watches her carefully as she offers a tightsmile. “I don’t want to get my hopes up.”
Buthedoes.
He keeps that to himself, obviously. But the thought’s been echoing in his chest ever since the pitch meeting. He wants her around. Not just for Jesse, not for the team.
For him.
Even if he doesn’t know what to do with that want.
“Manifesting,” Jesse says, waving a hand in the air like he’s summoning magic. “Positive vibes. Big wins. We’ll get you a locker next to mine. You can hang your fancy blazers and stuff.”
Before she can answer, he swivels to Theo and slings an arm across his shoulders, hanging off of him like he’s a human jungle gym. Theo huffs but doesn’t resist.
Jesse’s beer-soaked breath and fake mustache tickle Theo’s cheek. His voice is low, like he’s trying to whisper but failing spectacularly. “And you, my guy—when are you gonna shoot your shot?”
Theo stiffens slightly, his eyes flicking to Mila before he can stop them.
Jesse grins like the devil. “Bro, say less. She’s a literal ten, and you stare at her, like, all the time.”
Theo mutters something under his breath and gently shrugs Jesse off.
But his heart’s still hammering.
“Doesn’t this guy look good,” Jesse hoots, turning to Mila and Natalie. “Luigi’s gonna lay some pipe tonight, for sure.”
Theo grimaces as Mila giggles, covering her mouth with one gloved hand. Her eyes travel, slow and unhurried, down the length of his green overalls, then up his bare chest, lingering on the tattoos swirling on his shoulders and chest.
Theo’s ears burn. His face burns. Everything burns.
Jake leans in again and says for only Theo to hear, “You’re doing fine, man. Just breathe.”
Theo nods, grateful and humiliated in equal measure.
He chances another glance at Mila, who’s chatting with Natalie and Jesse, laughing at something Jesse’s pantomiming. She’s relaxed, glass in hand, head tilted back as she laughs. She belongs here.
The music fades into something with a slower beat and people shift around them,drifting off to refill drinks or yell to the new arrivals. Theo’s still standing near the front, hands awkwardly tucked into his too-shallow pockets when Mila turns back toward him.
She’s holding a fresh drink, glass stem twirling between her gloved fingers.
“So,” she says, eyes warm with mischief, “how’d Jesse convince you to go full Luigi?”
“Blackmail,” he says automatically.
She grins. “Knew it.”
He smiles too—relieved. Okay. That landed.
“I’ve gotta say,” she adds, reaching over and running a finger over the strap of his overalls. For a split second she grazes his chest, brushing over the nautical star and waves inked over his heart. A tribute to his hometown on the Gold Coast and his childhood love of sailing with his grandfather. “I kind of love it. The suspenders are really working for you.”
Theo’s pulse spikes. He doesn’t know where to look. Her eyes? Her mouth? Definitely not her mouth. That dress is already testing the limits of his focus. And now she’s flirting. He might be socially awkward and cringe, but he knows when a woman is flirting with him. Most of the time.
