If Thea is showing me I can believe what she says, maybe I should try something new: apologizing.
Idling outside her house in the morning, I drum my fingers on the back of the passenger seat, waiting for her and dreading that it’s a Wednesday.
What if she doesn’t want a ride? Should I give her space?
It’s not a concession I’d ever give anyone else. Things go my way, or they don’t at all. But with Thea, it’s different.
Once my anger faded, I was able to think clearer. I felt like a bastard because it wasn’t her fault. And there was no way she faked that kiss. I was wrong. She’s not playing me.
The kiss from yesterday repeats in my mind and I lick my lips. That wasn’t an act for me, either.
I just wanted her, my secret vixen.
She’s right about it. There’s no forgetting what we’ve done. I never wanted it to stop, but she can’t ignore what’s between us either.
No, we need to discuss this before the benefit dinner.
Thea seems surprised when she emerges from the house, darting a glance behind her before hurrying to the SUV and climbing in. Her cheeks are pink.
“Hi,” she says.
“Hey,” I respond, putting the car in gear.
The air goes stale for a few minutes while I navigate onto the main road out of our neighborhood.
Planning to talk and actually doing it? Two very different moods. I’m wasting precious minutes trying to start a conversation, not used to thinking how what I say can affect the girl I want to talk to instead of just laying it out like the law.
“Listen, I—” Clearing my throat, I squeeze the steering wheel. Come on, man, just spit it out. “I’m sorry for being angry. That wasn’t right or fair to you.”
“Okay. Thank you.”
She’s distracted by braiding her wild auburn curls. Sighing, I continue reluctantly.
Doctor Levitt always says once I’m calm, I need to express my anger. Even if I don’t want to be there, some things have stuck in my head.
“The thing is, I have trouble with my temper. You were right, I was jealous,” I admit. My stomach tightens. I haven’t told anyone other than Devlin about this. With a sidelong glance, I find Thea watching me. My throat bobs as I swallow. “I see a therapist. I have an appointment today. Every Wednesday.”
I leave out that it’s court-mandated therapy. It’s strange to give up one of my cards after spending so long hunting the ones that belong to others. I hold so many of hers between her secret blog and the nudes, it’s only fair to give her some of mine to prove I’m serious. I realize the tense set of my shoulders is because I’m bracing for Thea’s judgement, but it never comes.
After a long pause where she peers at me curiously, her hand rests on mine on the center console. “I’m glad you have someone to talk to about how you’re feeling.”
“Yeah.” I didn’t expect this. She just rolls with it, taking me at face value. She trusts that I’m being honest without question, even after I’ve tricked her multiple times. “So. I’m sorry for what I said and how I acted. You deserve better, so I’ll do my best.”
She hums and squeezes my hand. “If you ever want to talk about anything, you can tell me. I’ll listen if that’s what you need. We might not be a real couple, but I’m here.”
I don’t love the reminder this is all fake, by my own doing no less, but I’m glad we’re cool.
The acceptance feels so good, I’m out of it for the rest of the drive to school, my thoughts cleared and peaceful for the first time in I don’t know how long. Thea’s like a balm of warm light on my constantly shifting mind.
On my way to the office around mid-day, I curse, remembering an important thing I needed to tell Thea this morning. I got so caught up in sharing one of my own secrets with her, the benefit slipped my mind.
I thought we would have more time to ease into faking a relationship for the reporters and voters, but the event is this weekend. We’ve been wasting time with so much back and forth and fighting against the sexual connection distracting us.
I’m not supposed to text her, but I forgot to tell her this morning, too focused on apologizing. This is important and it can’t wait.
Don’t be too mad, sunshine.
Connor: Showtime this weekend. It’s a formal event. Do you have that covered, or do you need money to buy something?
It takes a long time before three dots appear.
Thea: Don’t think I don’t notice how you’re texting me. Your apology this morning doesn’t change your promise.
Connor: Yeah, well. Not much choice when you pull a disappearing act all day and I need to get a hold of you. Do you need to borrow my credit card or not?
Thea: Shopping spree on your dime? That’s big sugar daddy vibes. [laughing emoji]
My stomach dives off a cliff. Is she…flirting? She must not be that mad after all. Hope sparks to life in my chest.
Connor: You wanna be my sugar baby? Hell yes to those perks.
Thea: No! I don’t know why I said that. It was a JOKE!
She sends me an army of emojis, filling the screen with the monkey covering its eyes. My mouth quirks up. It’s cute when she embarrasses herself.
Connor: I’ll give you more details on the drive home.
Thea: Ok [peace sign emoji]
A second later, she sends a selfie. She’s in the library with Maisy Landry, a pair of earbuds shared between them. They make goofy faces for the camera. I’m warm all over, staring at Thea in wonder.
Since our kiss, things feel like they’re clicking into place more easily.
The good mood Thea put me in evaporates as I walk into the administrative office. A scowl settles on my face while I wait outside Dad’s office. My hands are shoved in the pockets of my black slacks, my school blazer tied around the strap of my messenger bag. The office secretary I flirted with to get Devlin out of a pinch when he was in the student records room eyes me in disapproval.
Suck it, Debbie.
I’d much rather drive myself over to the appointment, but Dad has always insisted. His door opens a minute later, and he emerges, buttoning his boring blue suit jacket. Seriously, whoever he’s been seeing must have standards through the floor for Dad to jump right over their bar.
“Ready to go?” Dad asks.
I grunt, whirling to trudge from the hive of offices. Dad falls into step beside me. Outside, he clears his throat and I roll my eyes. Here it comes. The weekly lecture.
“Dad, save it. Come on.”
We reach his Escalade and get in. He starts the ignition and sighs.
“I’m serious. This isn’t like a few weeks ago when you stole the car for a prank.” He pats the wheel in indication.
Devlin and I had the idea for mischief after school. Getting back at both our dads was glorious, stealing the Escalade from his parking space and going for a joyride to Denver to crash a college party. Dad was pissed. It fucking rocked.
I snort, slouching back in the leather seat. “What did I do wrong now?”