grabbed my phone and lifted it to the painting before snapping a photo and texting the only person I wanted to see it.
He responded instantly.
Theo: Almost as stunning as the real thing.
I blushed and reread the text again before replying. What are you doing up?
Theo: Running
I double checked the time and shook my head, knowing he got up to work out early but still judging him for it. How many times had he told me he wished I would have waited and gotten more sleep? It seemed pointless to bring up how he rarely did the same.
Theo: What are you doing up?
I laughed at the irony of the question. I couldn’t sleep. Nightmare
The three bubbles I expected to see pop up didn’t appear at all, making me frown as I stared at the screen. A few seconds passed before I started typing something out, only to be stopped by three taps on the front door. Body locking, I stared at the door like someone was about to burst through it.
Theo: Make sure to check the peephole
Make sure to check the—
Grinning, I walked to the door, tossing the phone on the counter and did the exact opposite of what he told me to. When I opened it, I was met by Theo’s disapproving but unsurprised scowl. “What did I just tell you?”
He didn’t get to scold me any further before I was on my tiptoes and tugging his face down to mine until our lips brushed. I stepped back the same time he moved forward, closing the door behind him, and locking it without breaking the kiss. One of his arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me tighter into his body while I rested my hands on his broad shoulders.
Drawing back with a smile on my lips, I looked up at him and saw a similar curve to his own mouth. “When you said you were running, I thought you meant in your home gym.”
He chuckled, smoothing hair out of my face before plucking my bottom lip with his thumb. “Found myself needing fresh air. It’s quieter this time of night.”
“Morning,” I corrected.
“Same thing.”
“Not when I’m up and you tell me that I should still be asleep,” I pointed out, eyeing him with the expectation of his argument.
“What was your nightmare about?”
My lips parted for a second before closing. I didn’t normally dream of my mother. At least, it wasn’t the first thing my mind liked tormenting me with. And her looking at me like she’d been disappointed? It punched a hole in my heart that still ached. “My mom,” I answered quietly, collecting my phone from where I’d tossed it and powering it off.
He came up behind me, gipping my shoulders with his masculine hands, massaging them until my head dipped back onto his chest. “I won’t push, but if you want to talk about it, I’m here.”
A hefty sigh escaped my lips. “That feels nice.” Closing my eyes, I eased into his touch as he worked out the tension that had built up over the past couple of weeks. “I don’t really want to talk about it. It was just…sad. It’s one thing to dream about dancing or the stuff that’s happened, but seeing my parents makes it harder when I wake up and they’re not here.”
I was sure he was nodding, but I didn’t look. Instead, I absorbed the soft kiss he planted on my head before squeezing my shoulders and adding more pressure. “I get it, Della. You haven’t had one about her in a while.”
I’d told him about the other dreams. Not always after they happened, but he found out whenever I was extra quiet on the days we saw each other. Which, for the most part, was daily now. He’d given me some space to study for finals, but always showed up to make sure I was fed and happy. Even though I always wanted it to lead to more, it never did.
“Study,” he demanded when he saw me staring at him with my lip between my teeth and not so innocent thoughts lingering in my eyes for him to see.
“Yes, Daddy.”
I grinned thinking about the way he groaned when I called him that. Not surprisingly, he hated it. It probably would have been funnier if my father hadn’t once been his best friend, or if he weren’t so obsessed with the repercussions of our changing relationship. It didn’t stop me from getting a rise out of him when I could, though.